Chapter Text
"I said hold still, Matau," Nokama sternly commanded, prompting the Toa Metru of Air to suck in a small amount of breath and stiffen his joints. The action, though short-lived, allowed Nokama enough leeway to lash the makeshift splint around Matau's lower leg.
Nearby, Nuju was, seemingly hesitantly, using his ice to soothe the wide scorch marks that ran across Onewa and Whenua's bodies, having badly singed the muscle beneath their protodermic armor. Vakama was off by himself, preparing some implements that loosely resembled Toa-sized bandages.
He'd treated many burns, both on himself and others, during his time at the Ta-Metru forges, but now that they were about double the size of the average Matoran, he was having a bit of trouble scrounging enough material together.
He tried not to meet the gaze of his teammates as he tightened the ointment-coated linen strips around his teammates' burns, both somewhat embarrassed about the quality of treatment and wanting to stave off the inevitable argument that was just waiting for one snappy comment to serve as a spark.
"Yeah, let's all go to the forges first thing in the mornin'! Nothing like a good fire-vine to quick-start a Toa's day!"
And there it was, courtesy of a wildly-gesticulating Matau. Vakama, for the moment, bit his tongue.
"I hate to say it, but I agree with the blowhard. That vine wasn't nearly big enough to cause any real damage yet, and it was so close to the forge that fighting it just got us a few new scorch marks!" came Onewa's follow-up. Vakama knew that its ambigous-yet-incredibly-intentional target was him, and he took a few moments to carefully consider his following words.
"If we hadn't evacuated the Matoran here now, the vine would have grown and put them in further danger. It was a preventative measure."
"In theory, that's not a bad idea," Onewa quickly returned, "but it still got us hurt, and now we've got to spend the time we could've used to go after more dangerous sprouts licking our wounds."
Again, Vakama held back from saying anything. Though at heart he wasn't much of a contrarian, Onewa somehow consistently knew just the right things to set him off.
He wanted to argue his case, get the stone Toa off his back, but he knew it would just escalate into a larger fight and, ultimately, more energy lost.
"We'll do another sweep of the city, and respond to threats as they come. It's the least we can do to build trust in the Matoran."
"Hold-fast, Firespitter," came Matau's voice, very nearly interrupting Vakama. He turned to see Matau standing, leaning on one of his Aero Slicers like it was a cane.
"Not all of us are in a state for footwalkin'. We should dedicate our energy to locating the kingroot and makin' plans to stop this thing once and for all."
Vakama paused, considering Matau's suggestion.
"I… suppose we split up, then," he said, with an air of softness and uncertainty. Matau brought up a good point- what they had been doing was damage control, and all they were doing was allowing more of the city to fall before the might of the vines. But what if Matoran were injured or killed while they were off fighting the king root? Buildings could be repaired, and things could be replaced, but having known several Matoran who had met their ultimate end in Ta-Metru, he knew what holes casualties would rip in a community, especially during such uncertain times.
"Nuju, Nokama- we'll search for any active, dangerous vines and mitigate any threats. Whenua-" he avoided the pointed gazes of his other teammates as he spoke, "- take Matau and Onewa and try and locate the origin point of the vines."
Having no other plans to offer and no real desire to kickstart a conflict again, Whenua just shrugged and nodded.
When Vakama's group had left the vicinity, Onewa rested the chin of his mask in his palm.
"I don't seem to remember anyone electing him as our leader."
Matau didn't reply, but his expression conveyed agreement. Whenua released a soft sigh.
"I don't recall anyone else stepping up to the role, either," he said. Onewa eyed him. "Besides, who would you pick?"
In near-unison, Onewa and Matau responded, "Nokama."
Whenua found himself unable to come up with a good argument, and just settled for a sigh.
"We can sort out rank once the city's safe. I don't particularly trust his leadership skills either, but for now he's the leader we've got."
Neither Matau nor Onewa seemed particularly interested in debating further, and offered no resistance as Whenua led them deeper into the Metru, following the arcing cracks in the ground.