perceiver
. helium lost .
Author's Notes: Have I ever mentioned that I think that Toph metalbending is totally kickass? And that I am eternally indebted to the lovely Mike 'n Dante for making my dream of metalbending a reality? (bows down)
Touch.
"Just my luck," Sokka mutters, numbly holding the pieces of his boomerang in his hands. "Just. My. Luck."
Katara sighs as she bends out a bit of water, coaxing it over to her cuts and bruises and healing them with a wince. "At least we're all safe… a moment longer and Azula would've killed us all."
Sokka frowns. "But that just makes it worse! Yeah, sure, Aang has a broken arm, you have some cuts and bruises, I have some nasty scratches here and there, Toph has a sprained ankle—but just the lack of any effect makes this all the more real and painful, don't you understand?" He bites his lip. "I feel as if I've lost a friend."
Aang sighs. "Sokka, I'm sorr—"
Sokka shakes his head. "Don't blame yourself, Aang—the one who's at fault is me. I overlooked that one detail—that one tiny, tiny detail—and look where it got us: We're probably going to be delayed for a week, at the least, and my boomerang's busted. Destroyed. Dead."
Toph rolls her eyes as she massages her swollen ankle. "Stop your whining and blubbering. What's so special about that hunk of metal, anyway? You can always get another one at the next village."
Sokka inhales sharply and falls silent, the words caught in his throat. He takes a few shallow breaths, then lets his hands fall limp as he turns and walks away, toward the river. The pieces of his boomerang fall to the ground, the sound of their impact muffled by the layer of leaves. Katara looks up, hastily bends the water back into her canteen, and rises.
"Sokka!" she calls out, but he doesn't hear her. She sighs, runs a hand through her hair, and sits next to Toph.
"Listen—" she says, then hesitates. "It's probably kind of obvious, but… that boomerang's special to Sokka. Where we used to live, it was almost impossible to get metal—all of our boats are made of wood, and even most weapons we have are made of animal teeth or bone or something similar—not metal. So, you know… Well, Mom and Dad got it for him for his tenth birthday. It cost a lot—it was all the way from Omashu and all—and, well… that was the last time he saw Mom alive."
Toph looks at Katara, puzzled. "Your parents gave Sokka a real weapon? When he was ten?" She frowns as Katara nods, then traces a swirl in the dirt with her toe. "All I got was a lousy doll that was taken away from me again later because my parents found a pin in it that the dollmaker had forgotten to take out."
Katara frowns. "Well—"
Toph stands and winces as her ankle shakes beneath her weight.
"Toph, you really shouldn't be straining—" Katara begins, but Toph ignores her. She bends down and picks up the pieces of Sokka's boomerang, careful to get every last shard. Then, with her brow furrowed, she grits her teeth, plants her feet (ignoring the pain stabbing up at her from her ankle), and brings her hands together. Katara covers her mouth and gasps, but confusion crosses her face as she realizes that no blood drips from Toph's palms, and that the metal—the metal is moving and melting and changing.
When Toph parts her hands again, Katara is amazed to see Sokka's boomerang looking as if it had never been shattered.
"How did you—" she begins, but Toph turns and limps toward the river. She stands behind Sokka, hesitating, then takes a couple more uncertain steps and thrusts her hand out at him.
"Here," she mumbles, then looks to the side. "Sorry that I… sorry."
Sokka turns, and his eyes light up when he sees the sunlight gleaming off the shiny metal of his boomerang. The boomerang is smooth and cold in Toph's hand, and Sokka's hands are so warm and coarse and callused as he shakily lifts the boomerang from her palms and gazes at it in awe. He runs a thumb along the razor-sharp edge, ignoring the shallow cut he receives and the droplets of blood that leak out. But he furrows his brow as he examines what he initially thought was a scratch on the otherwise flawless metal.
"Toph, is that… a mongoose-lizard?"
Toph stiffens.
"No, it's a polar wolf-bear, for your information. I thought it might—I, well, the whole warrior thing and all."
Sokka raises an eyebrow.
"Still looks like a mongoose-lizard to me."
Toph swings her right arm and punches Sokka in the face, savoring the feel of his rapidly bruising flesh beneath her clenched fingers.
Author's Notes: Feed me D: leave me your thoughts and opinions!