You can never take back a stroke of the brush, the teacher tells them again and again before pulling back her sleeve to let her hand dance over the paper, leaving fluid, perfect writing in its wake. Ty lee licks her lips and urges her hand steady. Calligraphy is hard. It's as if the signs are flies she's hunting after and trying to catch with the brush for a net; when she tried to explain this to the teacher it earned her a smack on the head.
The heat of the afternoon sun is relentless, but the highest window, just below the roof, is shady. Sitting perched on the windowsill she hesitates with the tip an inch above the paper. The signs buzz in her head. Already trying to fly away from her.
The slam of a door nearby and her hand twitches, a heavy drop of jet black ink falling on the paper. It's ruined now. You can't write on a stained paper, you'll get scolded. Frowning, she leans forward to scrutinize the spot. It has almost dried already.
On closer look, the dot looks like one of Mai's hairbuns. Round and dark. She adds another little dot to the side, and that makes the impression stronger. A thin line like a bridge between them, and that's the top of Mai's head. She adds a fringe. Cheeks and chin. Eyes and nose. It looks very much like Mai now. Ty Lee draws her mouth in a huge smile. Mai doesn't look this happy too often, but when she does, she's really, really pretty.
She's pretty in the drawing, too. Ty Lee nods proudly to herself and dips the brush again.
Azula is next. Azula in Ty Lee's picture holds fire in one hand and a jewel as big as her head in the other. Ty Lee knows Azula doesn't have any jewels, or at least not any of that size, but in the picture it seems fitting, somehow. After giving it some thought, she draws another gem in a necklace around Azula's neck as well. Diamonds would look nice on Azula.
Then she draws herself, in the middle. There isn't much room left so Ty Lee is a little smaller than her friends, but that's alright. She makes her aura extra large instead, encompassing all three of them. Lots of tiny specks and a long wavy line in an arch above their heads; that's a pink aura when you paint in black and white. They should make pink ink, Ty Lee thinks. Calligraphy would be a lot more fun if they did.
Lastly, she adds a Zuko in the corner. At first she's about to draw him crying -Zuko cries pretty easily- but it wouldn't really be fair, so instead she draws him with his mouth open in a yell. It looks as if he's yelling at them. He probably is, she decides with a giggle, and adds tiny bolts of lightning shooting from his head. Angry, angry Zuko.
The picture is complete. She holds it up before her, pinching the edges carefully so as not to smudge the still wet lines.
Azula is a little too tall and Mai's eyes sit too close together—otherwise it's really good. Ty Lee puts the thin paper down on the floor so the wind won't sweep itt down from the windowsill and into the garden.
Homework now. Or else teacher will get mad. She hovers with the brush above the paper. The tip is heavy with ink.
A light tap and another drop falls, very, very dark against the white.
Ty Lee smiles. That will be the dragon's eye.
