Chapter Two
Done because I was bored, and forgot how much I liked this thing.
By now, when the both of them are married and she's pregnant with her third kid - a boy! - Sokka knows his little sister can take care of herself.
He also knows that her water bending is not magic, though he still likes to refer to it as such, mostly to annoy her. She's still his little sister, after all.
But sometimes he forgets just how good a water bender she really is.
Like when the other men and women of the tribe are awed by the way she encases that rampaging lion-seal in a solid block of ice - but Sokka isn't. He's gotten used to it, ironically.
The Water Tribe hunter tugged at his wolf-tail absently, thinking of The Painted Lady. Oh, he knew about her, too - apparently, everyone in the group had had a few little secret personalities.
What had astounded him was that she picked a Fire Nation one; they had been so homesick back then, when the whole lot of them were just kids.
The stories he heard about her escapades - when Katara had donned that hat, the dress, the makeup, she'd also breathed new life into the legend. A few whispers of it even reached the South Pole, when travelers entertained children with tales of their homelands.
But Katara is still a worry-wart and his only sibling, for all of her water-controlling gifts.
So Sokka smiled, leaned back, and watched the water lap against the shore.
