Day 29: Tradition

A tradition within Republic City is to celebrate the end of the War by throwing a week-long festival in honor of the War's heroes. If it were up to Toph, she wouldn't attend the festival (it wasn't exactly her idea of fun), but she attends because, 1) she's the Chief of Police, and 2) because Sokka wants her to attend it.

They walk down the crowded street, both wearing civilian clothing to blend in with the people around them. Sokka stops Toph when they come to a booth selling dolls. "What is it, Snoozles?" she asks, eyebrows rose.

"They have dolls of us, Toph!" He sounds as if he can't believe it. "Dolls."

"Do they look accurate?" she questions, vaguely amused.

"Yours does! But mine doesn't," he whines.

Toph rolls her eyes and grabs the doll from his hand. It's soft and the size of a stuffed-animal. "Relax, Snoozles. It looks just like you to me."

"You think so?" One, two, three. Realization dawns on the councilman. "Cute, Toph."

She laughs. "Pfft. These aren't even dolls, dunderhead. They're stuffed…people."

"That sounds appealing."

She throws the figure at him. "You know what I mean."

Sokka snorts and begins rustling through his pockets. Toph is about to ask him what he's doing when he thrusts a doll into her hands. "What is this?"

"It's your doll, Wise One. I bought myself one, too."

"…Mine?"

"No! I bought my own. So, y'know, we'll have something to remember this festival by."

He doesn't know it, but his words cause butterflies in her stomach, for whatever reason. "Cute, Sokka," she snorts, stealing his earlier line.

"Hey, you know you wanna cuddle up with yourself at night."

"Yep, that's it."