Kamun te Tskaha had flown these forests countless times, yet each flight renewed his awe for the life below. The canopy shimmered in the morning light, a living sea of green punctuated by flowers that hung from the branches like droplets of colour. His Ikran, Vayul, soared with the grace and precision only a bonded creature could, wings slicing through the humid air. Kamun's eyes scanned the forest floor, alert for prey, for danger, or for signs of the spirits' presence.
It was during one such flight, as the first sun pierced the mist that clung to the massive trees, that something unusual caught his eye. Near the roots of a towering Tree of Souls, a small figure stirred. A Na'vi infant, no more than a few heartbeats old, lay swaddled in a cradle of moss and vines.
The child was entirely alone.
Kamun landed Vayul with practised care, his feet pressing into the damp earth. He crouched and studied the infant. Its skin shimmered with the faint luminescence of newborn Na'vi, hair dark and soft, eyes wide and deep, reflecting the world above like tiny pools of water. There were no parents nearby. No siblings. No sign that the child had come from a village or outpost. Only the forest—and the quiet, sacred presence of the Tree of Souls itself.
Kamun's heart tightened. "Eywa…" he whispered, a mixture of awe and fear in his voice. The child's tiny chest rose and fell with perfect rhythm. Life. Pure, untouched, sacred. Kamun could feel the pulse of Eywa in the child, faint but insistent, like a thread connecting it to all that lived and breathed in Pandora's forests.
Gently, Kamun lifted the child into his arms. The infant's small fingers curled instinctively around his thumb, a sign that life had already begun to bond, even with a stranger. Kamun looked around the clearing, searching for any clue as to how the child had come to be there—but the forest held its secrets close.
"This child… he is not yet of our people, and yet he belongs to Eywa," Kamun murmured. "He is ours to protect."
Vayul shifted beneath him, sensing the urgency and fragility in Kamun's voice. Carefully, Kamun climbed onto the Ikran's back, settling the infant against his chest. The wind rushed past, carrying scents of wet leaves, rich earth, and distant flowers, the familiar yet intoxicating perfume of Pandora. Kamun spoke softly, though the child could not yet understand. "Do not fear, little one. You are safe now. Eywa has led me to you."
The flight to the Omatikaya Home Tree was smooth, the wind guiding them through shafts of sunlight that pierced the canopy. Kamun's mind wandered in quiet contemplation. How had this child come to the Tree of Souls? Why had Eywa placed him here, alone? Questions fluttered in the back of his mind, but one certainty remained: the child was alive, and that was enough.
When the Home Tree finally came into view, Kamun guided Vayul down into a small clearing near the base. The tree towered above them, massive and sacred, roots sprawling like ancient veins, leaves glowing faintly with the light of the morning. Ilara, Kamun's mate, emerged from the shade of the tree, her eyes bright and questioning.
"Kamun," she said, voice gentle yet urgent. "What brings you here so early, with the wind like this?"
Kamun dismounted carefully, cradling the infant. The child stirred, blinking at the new world with the wide-eyed wonder of someone seeing light for the first time. Ilara's gaze softened as she approached, hands outstretched, both healer and mother in her bearing.
"There is a child," Kamun said slowly, reverent. "I found him at the Tree of Souls. Alone. No mother, no father, no one. Eywa guided me to him."
Ilara knelt, taking the child gently into her arms. She studied him with careful eyes, noting the fine blue of his skin, the faint patterns already forming along his arms and forehead, the way his small chest rose and fell steadily. "He is Na'vi," she said softly, almost to herself. "Entirely. And yet… There is something unusual about him. He carries a presence I cannot name."
Kamun nodded. "Yes. It is subtle, but I feel it too. His bond with Eywa is… profound. It is as if the forest itself recognizes him, even though he has no family here." He looked down at the child, who cooed softly, tiny fingers grasping at Ilara's braid. "We cannot leave him in the forest. Not even the Tree of Souls can protect him fully from the dangers outside."
Ilara's eyes softened, and she traced a finger along the child's cheek. "We will care for him. But we must be cautious. He is a child of no one, yet perhaps of all. The Omaticaya will need to see him, to offer guidance, to understand what Eywa intends."
Kamun's hand rested on Ilara's shoulder, steadying himself. "We will protect him, Ilara. Whatever his origin, whatever path Eywa has chosen for him, he is ours to safeguard. We will not fail him."
The child stirred again, pressing his tiny face against Ilara's shoulder. Kamun watched, awe and responsibility mingling in his chest. "Look," he whispered, "he responds to you. Already, he knows safety when he sees it. We have been given a gift and a duty."
Ilara nodded, lifting the child closer. "Then we begin. Together."
Kamun exhaled, the forest around them alive with distant calls of banshees and the rustling of ancient trees. Here, beneath the towering Home Tree, a new life had begun—a life born of Pandora itself, yet touched by mystery. Kamun felt the pull of destiny, a whisper of Eywa's will, threading through the child, threading through them all.
He looked down at baby Nessudle in his mate's arms—Kamun whispered, reverent and resolute: "Welcome to our people, little one. Welcome home."
(MAR, Btw, in lore Kamun is Eytukans father, yet the mother is not really stated, so I gave her a name. Btw Eytukan is Sylwanin and Neytiri's father.)