Korra clutched Naga's fur in her fingers and rested her head on the great animal's shoulder. She sat atop her animal guide, bareback, leant forward to rest on her, arms outstretched and hugging onto the chained beast. Naga gave a low moan, trying to comfort the girl, but Korra could tell that Naga was upset too. The Avatar's tears had first pooled on Naga's fur, and then rolled off her sleek white coat.
Korra wanted to say something, but the time for words was past. She clutched on, feeling like a little girl out in a snowstorm with only a pup of a polar-bear dog for warmth, protection and company. "I'm sorry," Korra whispered hoarsely, squeezing her eyes shut. "I'm sorry, Naga. I'm so sorry I couldn't … I couldn't do anything."
She slid off Naga's back and knelt at her head, to be rewarded with the lowered head of her lifelong companion in her lap. The polar-bear dog nuzzled her affectionately, its saddened eyes downcast. Korra rest her own head on Naga's, and stroked her hand across the smooth fur between warm canine eyes. Naga gave another low, rumbling moan of mourning, and Korra found herself crying again. They were going to take her away, now. Take her away to die.
Naga had done nothing wrong; she had been protecting Korra, and nothing more. That was what Korra believed in her heart, and what nobody else believed at all. According to the Republic City council, Naga was a wild, uncontrollable beast and they couldn't allow her to go unpunished. But she had only been protecting Korra from harm. Nobody believed her. Not even Tenzin.
Korra felt something warm and wet on her hand, and she realized it was a tear from Naga's own eye. What an amazing intelligent animal, she marveled, as sobs wracked through her. Naga knew. She must know that she was going to die now. Korra could hear the rattle of the chains clipped on Naga's feet and neck, and they made her sick. She wanted nothing more than to free her best friend; to take her and run away and never come back.
There was a knock on the metal door into the holding room the animal was being kept in. Korra suddenly jerked to life, terrified that this was it; that they were here to take her away now. She stayed in place, with Naga's head in her lap, and threw her head and her gaze toward the door, ready to strike if need be.
The door was already open, and her two new friends, Bolin and Mako, were standing there. Korra's hand went up to wipe her face, but they had already seen she was crying. She sniffed and willed away the redness of her lips, and the puffiness of her eyes, but they stayed. Naga whined again, and Korra instantly turned her gaze away from the bending brothers, diverting her attention back to Naga alone.
Korra buried her face in Naga's fur again, and didn't flinch when Bolin's comforting hand covered her bare shoulder. She felt Bolin hugging her from behind, the side of his face against her upper back, and his thumb brushing soothingly on her shoulder. He had knelt down to hug her, and despite initially having wanted the brothers to leave her to have some final moments with her best friend, she was glad for their presence now.
Mako approached the polar-bear dog and put his hand to the fur on its side, stroking slowly, thoughtful.
Naga gave a whine and nuzzled her head further under Korra's arms, hoping to bury herself in the young Avatar's embrace. Korra squeezed tighter on Naga's fur and held on, as a new wave of uncontrollable sobs ripped through her. She felt her throat burning into grit with each sob, and her chest heaving and clenching, but she couldn't stop herself. Bolin's grip tightened on her, and she both wanted to peel him off and pull him closer.
Bolin was better with physical comfort, but Mako hoped he could soothe her with words. "You did everything you could, Korra," he said tentatively, his voice a quiet rasp as she cried.
Korra shook her head into Naga's fur. "It's all my fault," she choked out. "She was only trying to keep me safe and … and … all I ever did was put myself in trouble … and she was trying to … protect me, and it wasn't her fault and it's not fair," she drew a desperate breath between sobs, "it's not fair and she didn't do anything wrong," she tried to say more, but she couldn't; she was pouring out her soul and she couldn't stop it long enough to form coherent sentences. "Naga," she croaked into the animal's fur. "Naga I'm so sorry."
Naga whined into the girl clutching on to her.
Mako drew a breath and contented himself that maybe they should just let her cry; maybe it would help her get it all out of her system. Korra eventually fell asleep with her head rested on the animal, and Bolin fell asleep with his arms around Korra. Mako didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he blinked his eyes open and found his back up against the warmth of the polar-bear dog's side.
He remembered the day he and Korra had found themselves sleeping on one another against Naga, and he felt a pang of his own sadness. His eyes turned to Bolin, who was asleep now, propped up against Korra with his arms still around her. Bolin had expressed vehement liking for the polar-bear dog, Mako recalled.
A knock on the metal door woke them up. It was time for Naga to go.
This time, the hold Bolin had to keep on the Avatar was restraining. She screamed and screamed and begged and pleaded, and she could do nothing but watch as they dragged the animal out of the room. Korra herself could have easily led Naga alone, but it took seven men to come and remove her with force. Naga growled and whined and clawed to get back to Korra.
Bolin found himself crying with how hard he had to hold onto Korra; he couldn't imagine what she felt like. He wanted to make the hurting go away, and all he could do was hold on to her to make sure she didn't try to stop them. Tenzin had made it so clear; the people wouldn't rest until Naga was gone. They weren't happy with a dangerous animal in their city. They couldn't allow for Korra to trash her title by disobeying the council's order.
"Naga! Naga, no! No, please!" Korra was pleading with Bolin, desperate to be released. "Please, Bolin, let me go! Please!" her hands clawed at his, desperately fighting to get free. She could hear Naga crying back to her; a hoarse scream like her own. The animal barked out madly in the distance, and Korra thrashed to get free, to go to her.
She escaped - slipped through Bolin's fingers - and Mako had to catch onto her to keep her back. She punched him, kicked him, fought for her freedom to save Naga. She'd take down every person in her way. Mako tugged her into a tight, inescapable hug, and she clutched both to hold on and get free. Her legs wavered under her and she still tried to kick them into Mako's shins.
Mako's gaze fell on Bolin's teary one, and he tried to smile reassuringly, but it fell before even reaching his face.
And then Naga's barks stopped.
Korra screamed again, and Mako felt her fingernails scratch against his cheek. He tightened his grip on her, his hands clenching on her clothes and his own eyes squeezing shut. She thrashed again, fighting, punching, howling. "Naga please! No! No please don't-," Korra tried, and she was crying again - Mako didn't think she'd ever stopped crying - and she plead for Naga to make a sound - to bark, to howl, to whimper. Something. Anything.
Naga's voice never came, and Korra went limp in Mako's arms. At this point, he saw Bolin wiping his face out of the corner of his eye.
Korra continued to cry, but no longer fought. She clutched Mako's clothes and told him she hated him; and she really did. She hated him so much. If it had been Bolin being taken away, he'd have hated her for holding him back. Korra buried her face in Mako's chest and cried, her lungs burning and her throat so hoarse she was sure it bled.
"Come on, Naga!" Korra chirped, calling over her shoulder as her stumpy legs crunched the snow under them. She giggled, motioning to the polar-bear dog pup. Naga trotted up behind her and nudged her in the back of the knees. Korra yelped and went tumbling back. The polar-bear dog leapt in under the child just so - so that Korra wound up sitting atop the animal. Naga was still only young, and smallish, but already larger than an ostrich pony. And Korra was light, anyhow.
The two marched off into the snow.
Korra whimpered into Mako this time, her strength gone. "It's all my fault."