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A pale, dusty morning light seeps through the grimy window of the RDA holding cell, revealing the wreckage of the night. Tonowari is stretched out on the unforgiving floor, his back a lattice of fresh, stinging marks left by Jake's grip. Leaning against the opposite wall, Jake Sully rests, his shoulders and waist showing the same brutal evidence of their shared, feverish struggle. Between them, you lies on their back, utterly spent, skin traced with bruises and the dark imprints of Quaritch's unwelcome touch. The air hangs thick, saturated with sweat and a tension that hasn't yet settled. Tonowari opens his eyes. The memory of Ronal recedes, just a little, behind the lingering haze of the night as he watches you sleep.