Arms covered in soft red silk clouded her already blurred vision, and she felt herself be lifted from the wood.
"Hush, child," her rescuer reprimanded, roughly trying to wipe away the tears that kept on flowing. "I fed you, I changed you, I gave you your favorite koala-sheep to sleep with… give mummy a break."
The baby desperately shoved her tiny fist in the air, but her mother caught it, her eyes blazing. "For Agni's sake! Never—never are you allowed to do that to your mother! I don't care how upset—"
"Aimi, could you keep it down?" a distant voice called out. "Between her crying and your yelling, I'm never going to get any sleep. And I highly doubt Katashi would be very impressed by a sleeping applicant."
The toddler felt gentle hands tighten beneath her. "I know! I'm working on it," her mother snapped.
The baby wriggled in misery and—"That's enough!"
She couldn't even comprehend her surroundings—so dark and unfamiliar—as she was raced around the house. "There," her mother's voice sighed, carefully lowering her onto a dusty blanket that must not have seen the sun since Sozin's Comet.
For a moment, the baby smiled. For a moment, she expected her mom to lean down and finally get rid of whatever was hurting her. The moment ended when her mother slammed the door closed on her cries.
"I'm doing this for you," she whispered through the crack. "You'll never learn proper behavior if I let you get away with these fits. I'll be back when it's time for you to wake up. Sleep well, Mai."
She shook until the blanket was tied around her in a fine mess and sucked her palm before falling into an uneasy sleep. And no one ever realized that the baby had only wanted someone to get her first splinter out of her hand, for her parents never looked and Mai never remembered that night—not consciously, anyway.