"You wear makeup?" Toph said, amused disbelief tinting her voice. Smellerbee shifted uncomfortably.
"Facepaint, actually," she said.
"Yeah, that's what makeup is. Paint on your face." Toph laughed, leaning back against the trunk of the tree with her arms behind her head, legs sprawled on the platform. "Never would've pinned you as the type."
"This is not makeup, okay? It's completely different." Smellerbee sounded annoyed. Were they on solid ground, Toph would be able to tell just how offended she were by the teasing, would be able to gauge her posture and pulse. Up in the trees, she had to rely on the clues her ears could provide her with. She decided not to push it.
"Different how?" she asked instead.
"I don't wear it to look pretty," Smellerbee replied in a nicer a tone of voice. "It's like a warrior thing, makes me more intimidating."
"I'll take your word for it."
The boards squeaked and metal clanged against metal as Smellerbee moved around, rummaging through her equipment. She was tending to her weapons, a daily chore. Toph kept her company, careful to keep at the centre of the landing. The vibrations in the wood were faint and deceitful. She couldn't always tell exactly where the edge was.
"Did everyone in your old gang wear it, or was it just you?" she asked, once the scraping sound of a knife being sharpened joined the birdcalls, voices and the soughing song of the wind in the treetops that accompanied life at the Freedom Fighter hideout.
"Just me. I started when I was a lot younger, and now I don't feel like myself without it."
"So what's it like?"
The scraping stopped. The silence was thoughtful and dragged out for several seconds. Toph waited patiently.
"I don't know if I could explain it in a way you'd understand," Smellerbee said at last.
Toph reached a hand out towards her. "Try me."
Smellerbee put her knife and whetstone down. As she moved closer her presence became more tangible, a subtle change in the air currents. She took Toph's hand in hers. Then hesitated. A small, urging shove from Toph, and she gathered her resolve.
"Okay," she said, putting Toph's fingers to her cheek. "Here-," she pulled their hands down and back, to her jawbone. "I draw two red stripes. Pretty wide." Her skin was dry and smooth and downy. The paint was sticky.
"Red. I see," Toph said, trying to sound sarcastic, but unable to keep from smiling. She wriggled her hand out of Smellerbee's, moving her fingers around freely, exploring the different textures. Smellerbee's hair tickled the back of her hand. She moved in under it, traced her ear. Smellerbee shivered.
"I don't paint my ears," she mumbled, and Toph tucked this apparent ear-sensitivity away in her mind as one of the things she'd have to investigate further some other time, when they had more privacy. Leaving the ear to investigate Smellerbee's forehead, she found something else.
"What's with the headband?" She gave it a tug. "It's all in your eyes."
"Not until you started messing with it, it wasn't," Smellerbee said, trying to pull it back up, but getting her hands slapped away.
"Bug off, I'm busy here."
"Busy with what?"
"Figuring you out."
Toph felt Smellerbee's face move under her hands as she smiled. "How's that working for you?"
"It'd be easier if you didn't have all this junk getting in the way," Toph said, and then yelped involuntarily when Smellerbee shot forward to grasp her bangs.
"You're one to talk," she said with a snort. "Hiding behind your hair like that."
"Who says I'm hiding?" Toph shrugged. "I can tie it back if that's what you want."
The fingers clutching her hair softened, let go altogether. Gently, Smellerbee combed through the tresses, tucking a few behind Toph's ear.
"I'd like that. Because I like your face," she said, her voice unusually soft.
Toph grinned again. "Prove it."
Smellerbee presented some pretty solid evidence, but Toph decided she needed more. With tongue this time.