It's nothing
Kekem tsa'ul
•—————•—————•—————•—————•

Tsu'tey began the process of making a grave with Kyra. They took digging tools and began measuring out a hole big enough to hold John. Coffin-less. Far from his home.

Hound opened his wallet to pay for drinks for the squad. Something folded up and old fell out as well as a more recent photo. I didn't mean to look, honestly. But there was a woman on the older photo. And on the newest, was two bundles. Definitely babies.

I didn't want to say anything but he got up, about to leave.

"Hound!" I caught his arm, "you dropped these." I held out his photos to him. Polaroids. Outdated, but very meaningful.

He turned with surprise, and smiled for a second.

"Thanks, Lieutenant."

"These are my daughters, Salem and Bria." He held up the recent photos of his twins to the team, a new Polaroid of them, their happy faces blurred from motion, they were clutching their sides from being tickled by their dad between them. John's new husband.

Monica, his previous wife couldn't afford treatment for her lungs, and she passed a few years ago. He took leave after and I was promoted to second lieutenant by the time he returned.

"They're beautiful, Hound, you must be a proud father." Badger complemented.

John smiled brightly at the photo before tucking it back into his wallet.

"They're a real pain in the ass. I love 'em." He said, causing the table to chuckle.

"'S good to have you back, Hound."

It was before this. Just before the mission. It felt like a month ago to Kyra despite being dead for years now. It didn't matter how many, she was dead. And whether the real John is or not, he may as well be. She just watched him die.

She lowered him into his grave with Tsu'tey's help. Before the first meal, Mo'at came to be with them over the grave. A few seeds, floating with dust-like elegance, settled in the air over the grave, glowing in the night. Mo'at took a seed in her palm and prayed over it for a few seconds, a common prayer for a common being on Pandora. She had no words or way of knowing what to say that pertained to John. Of course she wouldn't. But Kyra knew. She prayed silently that his family was okay, that his spirit passed into whatever realm was beyond this. She prayed the pain he felt wouldn't last through death, even though she knew it wouldn't.

Death was like sleep, she fell into it calmly because of her circumstances. She didn't die afraid like John did. He had fear in his eyes until there was nothing in his eyes. He slipped into the cold, dark sleep with fear in his heart. She couldn't fathom what that was like.

She just prayed it didn't last.

•—————•—————•—————•—————•

She was given their clothes, not made for her, but they gave it anyway.

For what?

She put it on and followed the stoic warrior to the fire below. Eyes fell on her, but she didn't think about it. He put warm hands on her shoulders to sit her down, she didn't think about it. He gave her food, and she ate while warriors talked, observing the people around her. A child reached out with curious eyes for her leg or tail, only to be pulled back by their parent, being told to eat.

It gave her a small chuckle, returning her to the present.

"Oel... tsyeym tìnomum." She tried to communicate. She said that she treasure curiosity. She didn't know that treasure was a noun rather than a verb. They have no word for value except for when it pertains to people. She earned a confused look which changed to realization on the parent's face.

"Irayo, ma ketuwong." The parent thanked for the compliment towards their child, who was now more curious than ever.

So far, these people were kind. It didn't matter what she was, they gave her a place to be.

Eyes lingered on her. Not in a dangerous sense, but Ka'un was keeping his eyes on her. She was curious. A woman from far away, a being of the stars in a familiar form. So precise in her abilities as an opponent. He'd hate to spar with her. But that only makes her more interesting.

Tsu'tey was responsible for her now, making her one of those pupils who would rise above expectations. Like Tarsem and Atan. They were both wise leaders and strong warriors. Ka'un wondered how Tsu'tey could change her like he did with them.

However, Tsu'tey never changed people. He only brought out their best through his grueling teachings.

•—————•—————•—————•—————•

In the morning, Jake is late. No doubt getting an earful. Hearing that he was a marine was a bit shocking, but it made sense to Kyra. She wasn't a marine herself, she was technically navy but more Special Operations than Navy since that's where she spent most of her service. And to study him, to study them both, they were training them.

Tsu'tey took her to a healer who treated the cuts on her back, simple scrapes and sliced through her skin on a surface level. It would be a while before they'd heal fully, and they would scar. But they had no time to waste.

"This is direhorse, Pa'li." Tsu'tey motioned to his mount. And then he pointed to the herd in the clearing.

"You will ride one." He said simply. He mounted his own, demonstrating the bond, and how effortless they moved together.

Kyra, wary of the danger a herd poses. She nimbly drifted between the pa'li before one came to her, offering its queue like a friend offers a hand.

She accepted, making the bond. A flood of warmth radiated throughout her body, permeating her skin like the sun's warmth. She felt the mare's heartbeat, her breath, the strength in her body. She hopped up on her back and began to walk. Slowly walking towards Tsu'tey, stopping short of him.

"Tsukmll'an." He says. Acceptable. Nothing further, she doesn't require more words. He looked at her with an understanding gleam in his eye, all too human to her. She couldn't see him as anything less than human.

He was just Tsu'tey. A strange warrior who teaches her as a consequence of his compassion. Maybe even empathy. He didn't need to say that her first bonding with something was acceptable, but he let her know anyway.

She pondered him for a moment before following him on the back of Peyanu. A warrior joining them shortly. The same one who she forced down the night prior.

"I see you, Kìra." He beamed, "you should know I have no anger for you." He let her know, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge his admission of neutrality at least.

"Ah, thank you." She mumbled, "I'm sorry for embarrassing you like that." She said.

"No need to apologize." He said optimistically, "it was... what is the word? ...informative." He said. Maybe he didn't notice the dead body she carried and buried, but he was exceptionally happy. Almost uncomfortably so.

He noticed her expression.

"Ngaytxoa, I had forgotten your pain." He offered.

"It's nothing." She shrugged it off. She knew it wasn't nothing, but she couldn't stand to think about it anymore.