It was one of the strangest sights she had ever seen.

Korra was at an utter loss for words, mouth hanging open and her brow severely arched. The tall, shaven man stood amidst a clamouring, faceless throng, his own voice lost amongst the collective song of adoration. Korra watched as countless grasping hands reached up towards him, the tightly packed crowd kneeling at his feet. His robes were pulled from his body, tugging him this way and that even as he lifted his own hands and began to plea with his worshippers. But that humble plea went unheard.

Korra was cringing as eager hands rose to caress every inch of the man's steadily exposed flesh. Cries of delight rose from the lips of the fortunate few, jealous frustration from those trapped behind them, though their arms surged forwards to grasp desperately at the air. Some managed to grip the fabric of the sash tied about his waist. It was pulled free in a moment.

Her eyes were pulled wide when the man's intimate flesh was suddenly exposed, accompanied by his sharp gasp of surprise. The crowd only hummed its appreciation, parting lips moistened with keen tongues. Korra didn't know whether to feel mortified or intense embarrassment when, despite the man's efforts to push them away, persistent hands and mouths latched onto him. And boy, did they go to work.

Her cheeks were aflame as a shimmering sheen of sweat quickly began to gather upon the shaven man's skin, beading at the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades. Korra watched heads bobbing enthusiastically with a partially averted gaze, pumping hands a vicious blur. The man sounded like he was lost somewhere between the ambiguous plains of pleasure and pain. He released a wounded cry as a myriad of hands continued to climb all over him. Korra had seen enough.

Voices hissed the moment she moved.

"Go away, stupid bitch!"

"You don't deserve to even look at him!"

"Grow the fuck up. You're a disgrace!"

"He was better than you in every way when he was just a BOY!"

Korra paused in her stride, the power of speech escaping her. The crowd had turned on her with gnashing teeth, venom dribbling down onto their chins. She actually took a step back - several - under the ferocity of the glares she received, placating hands lifted out in front of her.

"Alright, guys," she tried carefully, "I was just –"

"Well, don't!"

"He doesn't need YOUR help!"

"You should learn a thing or two from HIM. Stop acting like a fucking child!"

"Quit all that trying to find your own path bullshit and just do what you're told, woman!"

"Oh-kay," Korra said slowly, frowning as the voices began melding together into an ear-grating cacophony. And it appeared that they were far from finished with her.

"Nobody cares about your pathetic life story!"

"You have it easy. HE was the only survivor of a GENOCIDE!"

"This dick tastes so good!"

"He was TWELVE for Spirits' sake!"

She wasn't sure what to do, even as the man turned to her with fear practically etched into his features. The look he gave her was quite unsettling in fact, his jaw and brow tight with equal parts humiliation and pleasure while his eyes begged for her help. But the crowd were clawing through the air at her now and Korra quite liked the idea of remaining in one, fully functioning piece. She looked up at the man and grimacing, shrugged helplessly. This was a fight she was fairly sure she should walk away from.

It killed her to do so as the man mouthed a desperate 'Please!' before finally being dragged down into the midst of the salivating multitude. She couldn't bear to look back over her shoulder as she ran.

Korra opened her eyes slowly, surfacing from her meditative state. The young airbender was kneeling at her side, a hand on her leg and a worried look in her eyes.

"Are you alright, Korra?" Jinora asked her. "You were murmuring and mumbling about something."

"Uh, yeah," she replied, lifting a hand to scratch the back of her head. "Just had a, um...weird experience with the Spirits."

"Would you like to discuss it?" Tenzin offered with a voice of endless wisdom and patience, seated opposite her underneath the pavilion. Korra looked across at the tall, shaven man, lips pursed and brow furrowing as she remembered (all too vividly) the other. Then she looked away and took a moment to carefully clear her throat, speaking softly afterwards.

"Maybe another time."