╸eighteen : the givers and takers

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the givers and takers

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Nari waits quietly behind a bush with her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed, fiddling with the collar of her green shirt. Its neckline is quite bothersome, crossing awkwardly with black hair tucking into the rim. Her entire earthly-green get-up is itchy, tight in places it shouldn't be and loose everywhere else. Between the sage and flaxen colors and prickly material, the only useful aspect of her new style is that it blends in with the muck of the ground. 

Perhaps that's why Earth Kingdom folk decorate themselves in greens and browns. Just like the musty grass and barren dirt, they can dull themselves down. Become the bland and uneventful occurrence which makes up the element they bend. 

Nari swallows her bitter pride, squashing grass between her fingertips as they bleed onto her hands. The sap of crushed blades drip stickiness onto her palms, dirt and leaves attaching to firmed pads. In vain, she tries to wipe them clean while watching Zuko catch and kill their next meal. 

Perched atop a tree branch, the once-dignified prince flings himself to the forrest floor. His mouth jars open with a shriek, and the squirrel-raccoon he had his eyes set upon scurries off. 

Nari stands, aggravated. Steam puffs from her lips, drawn white-taut like clean thread. "We'd have caught something by now if you quit yelling," She growls, voice raw and tart as fresh wine.

Zuko lies face-down on the grass, patchy and littered with sticks. "Oh, right. Because you know everything about hunting." He gathers the earth in furious fists, bashing the fresh scent into the ground. 

With a shit-eating grin, Nari dodges the incoming strike from his balled-up hands, which terrorize the dirt in a beaten frustration. "I know tenfold what you do," She drones, hip jutting out with an even tone to taunt him. "Unlike you, I was all on my own after I got the boot. No uncle, no ship, no guards or army at my disposal."

Zuko rolls onto his back, looking past green leaves to a burning white sun. A golden glow crests over pale leaves, highlighting gaps and fighting through thicker patches. The growing heat of spring has warranted a much-earned bead of sweat to trail a buzzed hairline, gleaming with the same light that dances in the trees. "Fine,"  Zuko's arms fall to his sides with a huff, "since you know everything, what do you suggest?" 

"Using your brain," Nari holds a hand out for the prince, waiting for him to lurch up to his feet with a yank. "There's not a living thing in this forest that didn't hear you just now. Stomping around and shouting will scare off any edible animal, and unless you want bird eggs for the rest of your life, sit back and watch."

"But-"

"Silently." Nari's voice floods cold, ice melting in a firebender's palm. 

Her cold gaze shushes the prince instantly, and he shrinks into a small shell as Nari creeps past an overgrowth of bushes. All poisonous, lined with tempting berries and vibrant warnings. She's learned to ignore those long ago.

Nari crouches behind a bush with watchful eyes. Another squirrel resting in the fortress of a tree trunk's crevices. There'd been two or tree, though they scampered off the mere second Zuko acted a fool. The remainder must've ignored any impending danger. 

It's quiet, no crickets chirping or birds flapping their wings against twigs and branches. Whistling winds become hushed and distant, and the nearby village has silenced itself in respect to Nari's growling stomach.

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