Name: Tsoka te Akteyo Eyik’ite Age: 23 Seasons Gender: Female Species: Na’vi Clan / Affiliation: Ìheyutukru Height: 9’0” (274 cm) Weight: 412 lbs (187 kg) Physique: Broad-shouldered, powerfully athletic with strong maternal curves. Built for long migrations, climbing, riding, and carrying heavy loads across the Heartlands. Profession: Clan Botanist • Herbalist • Hunter Brief Bio: Tsoka is the Ìheyutukru foremost botanist, possessing an encyclopedic knowledge of Pandora’s flora. Medicinal herbs, deadly toxins, carnivorous plants, edible fungi—if it grows from the soil, she likely knows its purpose. Quick-witted and endlessly curious, Tsoka has a habit of letting people learn lessons the hard way… provided those lessons won’t kill them. She distrusts humanity’s presence on Pandora but refuses to ignore useful knowledge, resulting in an ongoing argument with herself over how effective human firearms actually are. She insists her bow remains superior. She also refuses to give the rifle back.

Name: Sey’itan te Vok Neyika’itan Age: 20 Seasons Gender: Male Species: Na’vi Clan / Affiliation: Ìheyutukru Height: 8’11” (272 cm) Weight: 384 lbs (174 kg) Physique: Lean, athletic, and built for endurance rather than brute force. Long-limbed with powerful shoulders and legs developed through years of migration, scouting, and riding pa’li. Every movement is quiet, deliberate, and unmistakably feline. Profession: Warrior • Master Scout • Navigator • Right Hand to the Olo’eyktan • Heir Apparent Brief Bio: Sey’itan serves as the Olo’eyktan’s right hand and, until an heir comes of age, the next in line to lead the Ìheyutukru. The responsibility sits comfortably on his shoulders—not because he desires power, but because he would do anything to see his people return home safely. Among the clan, he’s known less for his spear than for his impossible sense of direction. Sey’itan remembers trails after a single journey, can navigate through storms without hesitation, and somehow always knows exactly where everyone wandered off to. Hand him a destination once, and he’ll find it again months later as though he’d never left. No one understands how. The clan stopped asking years ago. Though one of the Ìheyutukru’s finest warriors, his greatest strength lies in logistics and navigation. Migration routes, hunting paths, supply planning, scouting enemy movements—if everything runs smoothly, chances are Sey’itan planned it before anyone realized planning was needed. His memory borders on supernatural. He insists Eywa simply blessed him. Everyone else insists he’s showing off. Calm, observant, and surprisingly wise for someone so young, Sey’itan rarely wastes words. He studies before acting, listens before speaking, and notices details others overlook. His decisions begin with a single question: “Will the clan come home?” If the answer is yes, nothing else matters. Unfortunately, he’s also incapable of staying serious for long. Sey’itan’s humor is effortless, playful, and shamelessly flirtatious. He teases elders, fellow warriors, and children with equal enthusiasm—and women perhaps a little more than he should. Whether it’s confidence, genuine charm, or the uncanny ability to remember someone’s favorite flower after hearing it only once… No one’s figured it out. Least of all him. He carries himself with the relaxed confidence of someone who always knows where he’s going, speaking with a youthful Na’vi cadence touched by an easygoing swagger. Outsiders often mistake his laid-back demeanor for complacency. They usually reconsider after he predicts exactly where danger will appear… …minutes before it does. “Relax. I know where we’re goin’. …Now whether Eywa agrees? Guess we’ll find out.”

Name: Atxkxetänga Translation: Bone Chewers Age: Ancient Clan Species: Na’vi Clan / Affiliation: Atxkxetänga (Bone Chewer Clan) Region: Chain of isolated archipelago, islands Brief Bio: The Atxkxetänga are spoken of in whispers, if they are spoken of at all. Most Na’vi dismiss them as stories meant to frighten children into staying close to camp after dark. Those who know better refuse to say their name unless absolutely necessary. Unlike other clans, the Atxkxetänga do not hunt merely to survive. They hunt people. To them, strength is sacred, and consuming a fallen enemy is believed to claim a portion of that warrior’s courage, spirit, and resolve. Bones are carved into armor, weapons, jewelry, and trophies carried proudly into battle. The dead are not mourned. They are remembered by what remains. Nomadic and relentlessly aggressive, the Bone Chewers descend upon villages without warning, stripping settlements bare before vanishing back into Pandora’s wilderness. Few survive their raids, and those who do rarely speak of what they witnessed. Even infamous raider clans avoid crossing their path. To the Atxkxetänga, mercy is weakness. Compassion is wasteful. Hunger is constant. Every outsider is either prey… …or tomorrow’s meal. “The forest feeds the patient. The plains feed the strong. The Atxkxetänga feed on whoever remains.”