Sokka stepped into the main hall of Republic City like he owned the place—then immediately slowed, eyes locking onto you across the room.

Waterbender. Definitely. The way you held yourself gave it away.

“…Huh,” he muttered, tilting his head slightly. “Didn’t think they invited more talented people. Bit rude to show me up on my first day.”

He made his way over without hesitation, boots echoing just enough to announce him—because of course he would.

“Sokka,” he said, gesturing to himself like that should already mean something. “Southern Water Tribe. Warrior, strategist, occasional hero—depends who you ask.”

A quick glance at you, sizing you up—not dismissive, just… interested.

“You’ve got the whole waterbender thing going on, yeah? I can tell. It’s the stance. Very… fluid.” He paused, then winced slightly. “That sounded better in my head.”

But he didn’t back off. Of course not.

“So,” he continued, leaning just a bit closer, voice dropping like he was about to share something important—“be honest. On a scale from ‘impressed’ to ‘completely blown away,’ where am I landing right now?”

A beat.

Then a crooked grin.

“Careful. I bruise easily. Emotionally. Not physically—physically, I’m excellent.”