Commentary: Those of you who have never experienced what Toph does in this chapter… consider yourself fortunate.
POT CALLING KETTLE
Chapter Twenty-one
Whether because of Toph's efforts with the boulders or the presence of sheer dumb luck, the pair avoided random knife-throwing action during the remainder of their journey back to the coast. It took two days for the stream they were following to widen into a river, and another half-day of trudging down its banks for that river to gush into a fanning inlet. The ground underfoot grew spongy, treacherous; the sulfur-smelling air thickened into a humid cape made all the more hospitable by the persistent whine of mosquitoes. Appa took to hovering, too heavy for the marshland. By the afternoon of their third day dogging the waterway, the ocean was a distant but discernible glimmer through the gnarled trees and Toph, not for the first time, sank an unwitting foot into an ankle-deep, muck-filled bog hole. She stumbled, lurched—fell face-first, finally. An explosion of slimy mud marked the moment and spattered Sokka's shoes too.
"Epitome of grace right there," the tribesman complimented gravely. He did have the decency to tack on, "You okay?"
"Fine," grunted Toph, struggling upright again. She pawed gingerly at the grime now adorning her front. "Just peachy. Grand. Water freaking everywhere—ground's soaked, hard to see—"
The complaint dissolved into unintelligible muttering. As the Earthbender heaved to her feet, Sokka spotted an anomaly in the shadow of her jaw. "You've got a little, uhm…" Reaching out, he prodded what was definitely a leech on Toph's neck. "Er. Yeah."
She ran cautious fingers over the thing, grimacing. "Is this attached?"
"Looks like it." Actually it looked like a thin purple slug, but Sokka didn't think it wise to say as much.
"Okay. Okay, that's sick. It's my blood, you little bastard," she muttered to the leech. "You can't have it!" With fumbling fingers she tried to grip the parasite enough to pull it free. She succeeded. In a faint rush of red the leech relinquished its hold and Toph threw it disgustedly off into the marsh. "Sick," she repeated. "Just—"
She paused to rub at her neck, smearing the small trickle of blood there. Next she swayed. Sokka jerked close to steady her and observed, both incredulous and delighted, "You are not about to faint because of a little tiny bloodsucker! Seriously, Toph?"
She planted a hand in the center of his chest. For a stretch of time she stood thus, her head bowed, her lips bitten from the inside. In the simmering gloom of the swamp her skin glistened, paler than porcelain; sweat beaded on her brow and slid down her cheeks like tears. Once she heaved—twice. Cords of muscle stood out along her throat's pulsepoint.
The fit passed as soon as it had come. Drawing in a slow, shivery breath, the Earthbender straightened. She stomped a foot. All the sludge on her clothes fell away in curtains.
"Let's go," she insisted, and set off briskly. She added, "You're on leech watch. If you let another of those things get even vaguely close to me, I'll castrate you."
"Don't you think that's a little—"
"Castrate you, Sokka. With a jagged rock."
She quickened her pace. Sokka had to jog to catch her. When he did, he marched along at her side in silence a while. To his credit, he did keep an eye out for the more leeches, not that they were particularly easy to spot in the first place.
"You're not gonna tease me?" she wondered at length, breaking the bubble of quiet that had closed over them.
Sokka watched his friend a moment from the corner of his eye. Her face was still pinched; occasionally her hand wandered to her collar, probing anxiously the skin there. What fun was there in tormenting someone already miserable?
He answered indirectly, "I didn't know you were afraid of anything."
Her brows rose, formed a dark line over her milky gaze. "Huh," she agreed. "Makes two of us."