It was a silent trek. The old man was glad for it, in a way; he didn't want to talk with those monsters more than he had to. But the monotonous march somehow magnified the severity of what he had done.
The actions of just minutes before played in his mind, despite his protests. A Fire Nation soldier's hand trailed the contours of a young face so precious to the old man.
"No! Stay away from her!" he had yelled to them.
But the soldier only laughed. One of his comrades, a ball of fire suddenly appearing in his hand and a crooked-toothed smile parting his goateed face, said, "Well, if you don't have money to pay your taxes, you've gotta pay somehow."
The old man's knees burned after he fell to the wooden floor, searching his mind for some way to fix this. He was too old and frail to fight them. And he was not a bender.
A bender.
"Wait!" he called out. "I know where there's an earthbender."
He couldn't believe it worked, even as he led them to Haru's house. The spirits had been with him. It was the earthbender who opened the door and they caught the boy with no difficulty.
And then, they stormed away, binding Haru's arms and legs with metal cuffs, keeping him off the ground, severing his connection with his element.
They left the old man without so much as a grunt in his direction, as though he were nothing more than garbage. No. They burnt their garbage. He'd seen them do it. He and his people were less than trash to the Fire Nation.
But, whatever he was, he had managed to spare his granddaughter from the Fire Nation's whim that night. And he was glad for that.
"Sorry, kid," he muttered before bowing his liver-spotted head with a sigh. He watched the small company of solders and prisoner walk away for a few seconds, then headed home, ignoring the pain in his knees.