I have so much to say about this one, but I can't really put it into words. Oh well.
Weak fingers were curled around the scroll, creating deep folds and wrinkles in the paper that had already been marred by the clawed grip of a messenger hawk. It was funny, she mused, how much care was always taken when writing such important letters -- every character drawn with perfection and not a stray dot of ink to be seen -- and yet in the end, they ended up torn and bent and broken anyway. The irony of it all made Ty Lee smile.
She couldn't remember the last time a smile hurt so much.
Her grip tightened for a moment before relaxing, allowing the parchment to uncurl and present the surreal message that lied within it. Ty Lee had already read and memorized the information it held many times over, but a nauseous, sinking warmth that lied somewhere between her heart and her stomach kept her from setting the note aside. The words on the letter hadn't changed from the past few times she read it, and it was then that some snake-like feeling began to slither inside her chest and tickle her heart painfully.
A voice -- the one that had, lately, been circling scattered thoughts almost constantly -- prodded her sharply in the back of her mind, and Ty Lee suddenly remembered the promise she'd made to herself that day at the Boiling Rock prison. Pushing the scroll away with forced, mechanical movements, tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.
Perhaps, Ty Lee wondered, if she hadn't sworn the once-princess out of her life for good -- hadn't refused herself the chances to visit and help the girl in the asylum -- hadn't ignored the doubts in her mind that reminded her of the strange friendship they once shared -- then maybe whatever had been poisoning Azula's broken mind wouldn't have been nearly as deadly as it was.
Staying true to her oath, she rolls over onto her side and does her best to convince herself of the opposite.