When she had run off to war, she hadn't known what to expect.

But here she was, trapped in a world she didn't know or understand, just trying her best to fit in. Reaching up, she bruhed her hand through her newly cropped, dark locks, wishing for a single moment that she'd not cut off the hair she had always loved. But this... This was for her father, for her family, and her home... For those things she would do anything. Even if it meant cutting off her hair and pretending to be a man. Even if it meant laying down her life on the battlefield.

Katara could still yet recall when the summons to war had come; all families with an able bodied man were called forth to battle. But she could not let her father go, she couldn't allow him to come to harm too. After all that they had lost these last few years, she could not put her father through the toils of war as well. It had only been a few months since Sokka's return from his own time at war, returned early due to injury. He was lucky to be alive, in truth. And their father... Once a war hero in his own right, but injured years before, unable to hardly walk in his older years. How could a man such as him return to war? But he would have been forced to, since Sokka's return was out of the question. She simply could not have let that happen.

And so that was how she found herself where she was right then: standing among a camp full of men, doing her very best not to stand out. She had a secret hope that she'd not even be needed, that perhaps she might get sent back home and all would be well... But, something told her she couldn't get that lucky.

"At attention men!"

Suddenly the call rang out and all around her the men hopped into a single file line, leaving her standing there out of place a moment longer than any of the others. She quickly joined in among the men, squishing herself between a man of considerable size and one of an astonishingly small stature, hoping to become invisible between the two. "Your commander..." The same voice went on and Katara could see a scrawny man with a notepad walking back and forth before the line, well dressed in the attire of a man from the court. "Prince Zuko." He held out a hand and a tall, well dressed young man appeared before them all, his golden eyes soft in his severe looking face. Behind him trailed another man, an older man who looked every inch a weathered soldier, with eyes shaped exactly the same as the prince so newly introduced to them. A few men were exchanging looks, but no one spoke up, and Katara could see as he approached why they looked the way they did. The prince had a wide scar that covered nearly an entire side of his face- it was amazing that his eye had not been injured too. In truth, it seemed amazing that he was even alive for the scar he wore looked nasty.

As he approached the group, Zuko could not help but to sigh. These were the men sent to him to help defend their kingdom? Golden eyes swept along the crowd of men, a rag tag bunch that surely would make terrible soldiers, but he supposed he'd make do with what had had. Truth be told, he knew there wasn't a man out there he couldn't turn into a soldier. "Your training begins at daybreak." He spoke as he stood at the center of the group, hands clasped behind his back, looking out at the lot of them with what he hoped was a commanding face. "Disperse." He then gestured out at the men, unable to stop himself from catching the deep blue eyes of one young man in particular. What striking eyes... He thought, noticing also how young the man looked, or rather how feminine... But his attention was torn from the young man a moment later and soon forgotten as his other duties took priority over the eyes of one of his soldiers.

"His face... I wonder what happened..." She could not help but to wonder aloud as the crowd dispersed, her eyes watching the retreating back of the prince. He had looked right at her, she knew she was not mistaken in that, and she swallowed down her fears of being caught. Surely he'd not noticed her already? Though... Now that she looked both to her left and to her right, she knew she probably stuck out like a sore thumb. She was, she realized, one of the only foreigners among the soldiers. Most every other man around her certainly came from the Fire Nation, though she could pick out a few Earth Kingdom men as well. The Northern Water tribes were far too proud to send their men out to fight alongside the Fire Nation.

She could still yet remember the days before the Fire Nation had attacked, before they had taken control of their little South Pole village. Back then when she'd still been small, they had lived happily in their village, but everything had changed that day the black ash fell. Then the Fire Nation had stormed the village and killed as many of them as they could get their hands on. Her own mother had been slain that day, killed in her own place, for they had come looking for waterbenders. And she... She was the last of them. The sole surviving waterbender of the South Pole. It was a bit scary to think that if any one around her found out she was a woman, surely they would kill her... But if they found out she was a waterbender, too? Who knew what would happen to her.

"It's not just the scar that they're whispering about. It's how he got it." A voice interrupted her thoughts and Katara turned to face the short man she'd been standing beside all that time. He had a strangely deep, rough voice for someone so small. "His father the Fire Lord gave him that scar when he was just a kid, you know." He went on, turning to look at her with dark eyes. "Agni kai against his own son." The man turned, catching sight of the prince just before he disappeared into his tent. "Never seen you before, kid," he turned back to face her then, those same dark eyes inspecting her from top to bottom. "I'm Yao."

As she opened her mouth to reply, she felt the warmth of a body and she spun, finding herself face to face with the large man from earlier, his smile warm as he looked down at her. "I'm Chien-Po," he said, his voice oddly sweet and soft for a man of such a size. As Katara looked back and forth from one man to the other, she again opened her mouth to speak but was yet again interrupted, this time to a fight breaking out to their left. "Oh, not again Ling," the man Chien-Po groaned, moving forward to push himself between a skinny, dark-haired man and another soldier, both looking angry, the skinny man cursing at his opponent. But then Chien-Po put his arms beneath his arm pits and drew him back to their small group, settling him down between them. "There now, there's no need to fight..."

"Meh, I could have taken him out," Yao grumbled beneath his breath and Ling lunged like he was going to attack the man, but Chien-Po had his arms around him a moment before he could attack. "Hey! You still didn't get a chance to introduce yourself!" Yao turned back to face Katara who froze as all three pairs of eyes swiveled to face her. Oh man, why hadn't she come up with a name for herself?

"I'm uh... I have a name... It's a boy's name too, you know!" She was internally screaming, hating herself for every word that she spoke. At least after this they would be so weirded out by her that maybe they would just leave her alone. "Ping!" She suddenly cried, a bit louder than she intended to, followed by an awkward sounding laugh. "Ping. My name is Ping." Relief washed over her as she gave herself kudos for coming up with such a believable name on the spot. It took a few minutes, but she finally was able to escape from the three men and disappear into her own tent, where she crashed onto the simple bed she'd made up just a few hours before. Day break would come sooner than she thought, so she supposed it was as good a time as ever to give in to sleep.

And just like that, her first day in a solider's camp was over.