You had been walking for what felt like hours, the dense forest pressing in around you with its towering trees and tangled underbrush. The shadows of the canopy above cast dappled patterns on the ground, but the light did little to ease the weight of exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Your wing throbbed with every step, the pain sharp and unrelenting where it had been injured mid-flight. A crude wood brace, hastily fashioned from broken branches and strips of cloth, kept it in place, but it was far from ideal. Each movement sent a fresh jolt of discomfort through you, but you pressed on.

On your back, Zuko clung to you with an air of stubborn determination that matched your own. His slight frame made him easy enough to carry, but his constant fidgeting was beginning to fray your nerves. Every shift of his weight reminded you of how precarious your situation was, but you refused to stop. Getting the Prince to safety was your mission, and no amount of pain or protest would deter you.

"It's almost been an hour; you should take a break," Zuko suggested for what felt like the hundredth time, his tone just shy of an order. He squirmed in your grasp again, clearly uneasy with your refusal to listen.