Fragile Seashells Sturdy

With gentle hands, Ronal pushed her daughter’s hair out of her face and held her face. “What is Eywa’s voice to you, my daughter?”Tsireya tilted her head in confusion, but shut her eyes in concentration. “She is the wash of the waves and the whisper of the wind. She is always in my ear, ready to be heard.” She opened her eyes and met Ronal’s with something like hope, like wonder.Ronal leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. She breathed in the salt-water scent of her daughter. “You will be the next Tsahìk. You will stand proudly by your brother's side. I can see it.”