Howl doesn't know what to do, Mako doesn't know what to do, Bolin doesn't know what to do.
Korra is hovering above Tenzin's crumpled body, her eyes glowing an eerie whiteish-blue. To Howl, it's almost the color of fog on a full moon, but with more life, with more energy, with more feeling, with a lot less mercy. He adjusts the grip around the hilt of his sword, staring at the figure as a wind blows up, as the fresh spring trees around them are ripped of their budding leaves and flowers. It was haunting, as if Korra was being pulled along slowly into the air by strings, as some sort of morbid puppet by an invisible puppeteer.
"Howl!" Howl jerks his head in Mako's direction, and the firebender's face is lined with worry. "Bolin and I are gonna go after Amon—"
"What, are you insane?" Howl screams at Mako, his eyes flashing back to Korra as her hands slowly turn into fists, and the look of pure rage on her face intensified.
"Probably," Mako responds. Bolin, seeming to be mystified by Korra in the Avatar State, remains grounded on the spot, his eyes focused on her. Howl can't blame him, but he forces himself to look at Mako. "Just to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone else, like the kids—"
It clicks in Howl's head. "Go! I'll take care of her!"
Mako rushes towards his brother, and grabbing onto the back of Bolin's shirt, they backtrack the direction in which Amon had fled only seconds before. Howl stares at Korra's figure, and his eyes flicker down to Tenzin, lying there limp on the ground, and he hopes to spirits the airbending master isn't dead.
Howl drops his sword with a clatter that can barely be heard and takes a step towards Korra, unsure of how exactly to bring her out of her emotional state. It isn't just the Avatar State to him. The wind is increasing, it's a deafening drone that is harmful to his ears and making his eyes tear, but what is there to do? Unsure if it's the right answer, thinking he may be asking for a death wish, Howl takes the remaining steps towards Korra in an almost stumble and grabs onto Korra's arm with force.
Korra's head snaps down at him, her mouth drawn into a thin line, her eyebrows arching downward. Howl remembers the words she had spoken before towards Amon, when her eyes were glowing, when her voice became one of thousands—How dare you attempt to repeat history and commit genocide to a race of people once more—and momentary fear runs through him.
The fear urges Howl to let go of Korra's arm, to run away, but he doesn't. He grabs onto her arm with his other hand and pulls her down gently, away from Tenzin's body and onto the ground. Though she's so angry, Howl can sense the fear in her, in her muscles, in her very bones, so he embraces her. He embraces her as tightly as he can, though it would never be a match to a hug from Korra. "It's okay. I'm here."
And for a moment, he thinks the embrace doesn't calm her, the words don't bring her any comfort. The wind is still blowing around them—and then it dies down. It becomes still. Korra is tense in his arms for a moment, then she relaxes, she's standing there, face buried into his shoulder, quiet and still.
Howl can't help but glance towards Tenzin's body. "It'll be okay. I don't think Amon killed him."
The pool of blood says otherwise, the blood on the bottom of Howl's boots and the hem of his cloak.
He dreads the sunrise.