…and when had all of the new recruits suddenly become so young, anyway?
Sokka, you were a major player in a world war when you were fifteen. Your tribe marks the passage into adulthood at fourteen. You have no room to talk.
Princess Mei Lien had lodged herself in a tree, and her nursemaid stood at the bottom, looking near tears. “Please, Princess, come down!”
Seriously she’s Arya. This fic is going to end with Zuko being publicly executed and Mei Lin hiding among a lunatic death cult. Calling it.
(You will then take five years to write the sequel)
“Avatar Aang’s sky bison is really tired, and sore, and lonely, and I think you’re just the person to help me cheer him up. Will you come feed him some treats while I work on brushing out all his fur?”
While the sentiment is noble, is shovelling peaches into Appa’s terrifying and cavernous maw really the most effective way to calm down a small child? Sokka I do not believe you are a certified babysitter.
the elegant black obelisk of a headstone
All class. All the time. Can’t do anything about dying, but the trappings will damn well have a little style about them. Mai you are the greatest.
(even if the Fire Nation generally cremate but oh well)