Still gnawing at the bars of my enclosure about my Wanderer au for Spider.
Spider taking his life by the reins and living for himself and choosing not to go back.
Not to the Omatikaya. Not to the Sullys. Not to a place where he was always caught between love and rejection, between being theirs and being nothing.
He leaves with his ikran and travels.
Spider soars over vast oceans, over floating mountains wreathed in mist, over uncharted lands where even the Na’vi and the RDA have never stepped foot in. He learns from wandering clans, from nomads who do not ask where he came from or who he used to be. He listens to the hum of Eywa in the trees, in the waters, in the very air he now breathes.
And for the first time in his life, he is free.
The Sullys search for him. He knows this. He hears whispers of their desperate attempts to track him, to follow the ghostly traces of a human who needs no mask, who rides an ikran like he was born to.
They never find him.
Because this time, his life is his own.