"You need to give her time," Tenzin tells Mako. He's not surprised when the boy grits his teeth and ignores him, running off to follow his friend, teammate, and savior. The firebender is just as impatient as Korra is...or was. Because there's no arguing that Amon has left her bereft, and Tenzin doesn't know how much that has changed the girl who was so much more than just the Avatar.

Tenzin glances down at the trodden snow, reading the stories that it had to offer.

Naga's wide, shallow paw prints, catch his eye first, a shape that has become so synonymous with Korra that it hurt Tenzin to look at it. He knows she needs solitude now more than ever, and Tenzin is well aware Korra can take care of herself. But this is not the Korra he knows. This Korra is not loud. She is not impulsive. And under the mask of composure, Tenzin is barely sure she is even alive.

This Korra is broken, and Tenzin doesn't know how to fix her.

There is an ugly, sticky sense of paranoia that drapes itself over Tenzin and suddenly, he finds himself throwing caution to the wind and following Mako's example. It's a wonderful example of hypocrisy at its best, but Tenzin doesn't care. A horrible thought has presented itself to him and the airbender can hardly stand the believability that came with it.

Because only Tenzin has seen Korra crushed and terrified after her first reckless confrontation with Amon. Only Tenzin could really understand how much Korra's bending meant to her. It was all she thought she was. Without it, Korra would think she was nothing.

The brisk, stinging cold whips at his face as Tenzin cuts through it on his glider. He shivers, not from the chill, but from dread. He hopes he can reach her in time, before a spark of her old irresponsibility makes itself known and she does something she regrets. Tenzin passes Mako by, the boy nothing buy a frantic dot on the ground, and wishes he could warn him. But there is no time, and Tenzin must hurry.

Mako must follow Naga's trail, but Tenzin has no need for that. The boy has known Korra for all of six months. Tenzin has known her for longer than she can remember. He knows Korra will scale the highest place she can find, where she can see everyone, and no one can see her.

She is at the edge of the first outcrop he checks, and even from what might have been a distance of a thousand feet, Tenzin knows she is crying. But that is not what concerns him. He swoops closer, but makes sure to stay unnoticed. Despite everything, Korra still needed her space. To breach that now may cause more damage than the imaginary fear that prickled at Tenzin's conscious.

Korra's soft moccasin boots are scuffing the edge of the precipice, and her eyes are trained on the tears that are falling one by one into the ocean below. It was almost as if she wanted to follow them down. Down to where the hurting would stop and she would truly become nothing.

Tenzin panics, and for a moment, he loses control of all the patience and calm that makes him who he is.

Reflexively, he flicks his wrist and sends a gust of air in her direction. The dazed and vacant expression leaves and Korra scrambles away. She falls back onto the snow with a muted thud, and Tenzin can't help sighing with relief at the distance she has put between herself and the worst mistake of her life.

Tenzin decides he has spent too long circling her like a vulture and prepares to swoop in. But something is off. Korra has gone unnaturally still, and an indescribable change comes over her. It's all lights, spirits, and other things that are out of Tenzin's understanding.

But somewhere beneath the all the confusion, there is a familiar breeze, one that brings back memories of air bending lessons and skyrides with Appa. Tenzin tries to ignore it, because he's imagined this touch so often before on hopeful winds. But his father was never one to be dismissed so easily.

Although Tenzin can't see it, he knows Aang is here.

A headwind nudges him gently away and Tenzin takes the less than subtle hint. Sends one last worried glance at the pair of teenagers locked in an embrace below. Korra the Avatar is gone for now, replaced by regular old...Korra. Again, a sticky something clenches at Tenzin's chest, but he ignores it, knowing it is nothing more than a wave of paternal territorialism. There is a certain sense of finality that comes with this scene. Something about the way Mako lifts Korra off the ground makes Tenzin think they will keep floating forever.

Not for the first time, Tenzin finds himself dreading the day Jinora turns into the wonderful monstrosity that is a teenager.

He allows himself to be carried away on his father's cheery wind, knowing that with him watching over them all, everything would be fine.

It's a childish and naive idea, but Tenzin allows himself to believe it nonetheless.


Note: A little something I whipped up after the finale. Haven't written fanfiction in a while, and never for this fandom. How'd I do?