Katara: A Private Life of the Bloodbender

Chapter III.

Be not merciful unto them that offend of malicious wickedness. They grin like a dog and run about through the city. But thou, O Lord, shalt have them in derision. Thou shalt laugh all the heathen to scorn.

- Psalm 59

The sun went down behind the ocean horizon and a balmy evening replaced a hot august day. The ocean wind, pretty strong that evening, cleaned the sky from the clouds and uncovered the dark heavens with a thousands of shining stars. The last night before absolute full moon, the moon is bright, fully shaped, it glares, calls and scares. After being expelled from the air temple by Azula, the Avatar Team settled down on a rocky coast covered by tough oceanic grass.

"Wow, camping! " said Aang joyfully while the team was having a dinner around a campfire. "It really seems like old times again, doesn't it?"

He reminded a lots of similar evening that he spent with his dearest around the same campfire, telling a stories, drinking tea and having a rest in peaceful family atmosphere, no matter how difficult their daytime was.

"If you really want it to feel like old times..." said Zuko with feigned seriousness "I could, uh ... chase you around a while and try to capture you."

The team laughed, including Zuko, who smiled to his own joke, pleased that it worked. Except for only one person at the other side of the fireplace, sitting farther from the fire, with head bowed that neither the light could touch her face, stayed absolutely cold and just sighed sarcastically, while her friends were laughing loudly. Zuko's intentional hint of his previous life, criminal to them all in her opinion, she considered as a disgusting provocation and sincerely didn't know what is so funny about so dumb and abusive attempt at a joke. But being the only one with this view, she couldn't do anything except sitting in silence. In front of her, there was a little bowl of cold dry rice she not even touched, let alone could eat it.

As Sokka stopped laugh, he held his cup up. "To Zuko, folks, to Zuko!" he exclaimed. "Who knew after all those times he tried to snuff us out, today he'd be our hero?"

And in unison they held up their cups of tepid tea, honouring the fire prince. Enough for broken heart of young southerner. It had to bear a lot but that was really over. She stood up, retreated to the dark and went away from here. She was not a loner at all, neither now, nor ever before. But now, she had enough. She couldn't stand that vile one-eyed lizard, but as he became her friend's priority, she had to go, there was no other choice. There it goes, she fell back and ceased, once fearless and optimistic, now just a squalid and exhausted, lovelorn, sick and disgusted, Katara of Water tribe – the tribe chief's offspring, daughter of Kya.

She hid herself on a wind-tossed coast and sat down on a cold dark granite stone. Her clotted self-confidence trailed behind like a banner in defeat, jagged self-respect flowing out of her shattered personality. Until this moment, nothing ever could humble her head. Torpidly, in silent apathy she sat with her ridge crooked and sigh bowed down and rays of new moon were sticking into her dark, drooping hair. She was neither just angry nor sad actually, she felt sick. She lost all the appetite yet a days ago, and it clearly appeared on her: her collarbones jutted out of her chest, the sinews appeared on her neck, her cheeks and hips flopped inside, both ankles, wrists and a tiny joints on her fingers arose under the skin, knees and elbows jutted from her lost muscles, her arms and legs narrowed. The backbone protruded from her neck and low-back, but wasn't visible under Katara's clothes and long hair. Her eyes narrowed and there were dark circles under her lower eyelids, iris got darker and on her forehead, there appeared a wrinkles that couldn't disappear again.