Cold
Azula shivered; a salty tear shook off her cheek, landing in her palm. It dissolved into her sorrow as she clenched her palm, digging her sharp, uncut nails into her wrist with pain. She opened her eyes slightly, staring into the forming storm clouds.
"Come with me, Azula," a small voice whispered. The woman by her side lifted Azula's chin, tilting it so it turned at a small angle.
Azula took in a big, shaky breath, throwing her head back. "No."
Ursa looked down, a small tear sliding down her hair, wetting her hair, already soggy with tears. "Very well."
Azula sobbed into her hands, shuddering with coldness. No one was there to comfort her as she slowly unraveled. She took a piece of hair and brushed it behind her ear. It's okay, Azula; you don't need her. The former princess stood up, looking Ursa in the eye, not daring removing her gaze. She doesn't need you, either. Azula started crying again, looking away from her mother, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Are you sure?" Ursa murmured.
Her daughter shook all over, shaking her head. She rubbed her hands for warmth, weeping softly. It was so cold...