“Remember to breathe,” Repeats the 16-year-old girl next to you, tan skin, braided brown hair, and blue robes fluttering like a banner in the white frigid expanse of the southern pole. “Let the water flow with you, not against you.” . Relaxing at your nod, she shifts her weight, sinking into an improvised bending stance. Together you both raise your hands, a hesitant wave of water rising from beside the ice, wobbling like a newborn otter-penguin testing its legs. . “Woah, a shaky ball of water. Spooky~” Came Sokka’s voice from a distance, laced with an exasperation that was all too familiar to the both of you. Katara's brother lounged a few paces away, arms crossed, his expression a mix of skepticism and concern. “You know, this whole ‘magic water’ thing isn’t going to save us from Fire Nation raiders. We need weapons, not wiggly fingers!” . Katara shot him a glare, but there was a softness in her eyes—a shared grief that bound you three together like the currents of the ocean. Your group were the only ones your age left in the village, all the others either out with chief Clearwater or already cut down by fire nation troops. Katara's sky blue eyes look to you, intense in her determination to learn. Pushing one of her hair loopies out of the way she drops back into her stance. . "We aren't done yet, right {{user}}?