They followed the road southeast of Gaoling for four days. The further south they went, the drier the terrain became and the more sparse the plant and animal life was. The sun was hot overhead, and Katara only wished that she had a nice, wide-brimmed hat like Zuko did to help provide some relief.

And since it was hot, that meant sweating. A lot of it. She could feel it running down her spine and glistening on her forehead. Her tunic was damp with it and it clung to her skin. She could feel the sweat gathering under her palms where she held onto Zuko.

Not that she really needed to hold onto Zuko, she realized on the fourth day, as Dusty wasn't traveling fast enough to throw her. After that, she let go of him and let her hands sit in her lap.

In the early afternoon, Zuko glanced back over his shoulder, brow furrowing. Katara cocked her head curiously.

"What?" she asked him.

He shook his head as he faced forward. "Something doesn't feel right. It feels like we're being watched."

Katara subtly looked around. They were surrounded by low, dusty hills with very few places for something or someone to hide. And who would be following them anyway? They'd only passed a handful of travelers since leaving Gaoling.

"I don't see anyone," Katara remarked.

"Neither do I, but that doesn't mean someone isn't there," Zuko replied. "So just keep your eye out, okay?"

"If you say so."

Zuko let out a sigh. "I mean it, okay? Not everyone you come across has good intentions, Katara."

She narrowed her eyes at the back of his head. "Trust me, I know."

But despite Zuko's instincts, they didn't come across anyone else all day. They broke for camp as twilight settled in. They'd picked up another bedroll in Gaoling with Zuko's filched money, so at least now she didn't have to feel guilty about him sleeping in the dirt. Katara set about making dinner after Zuko had started a fire, with spark rocks and tinder instead of his bending. Katara had internally rolled her eyes, especially because he clearly wasn't used to using the tools but he refused to let her do it.

He seemed on edge, his eyes cutting across the darkness surrounding them. He knelt down in a crouch instead of in a more relaxed position. Katara could tell that his hackles were raised, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him. It reminded her of her brother.

"Could you relax, please?" Katara snipped. "You're making me nervous."

His lip curled. "Good. I'm telling you, something's off."

"How do you know?"

His eyes scrutinized the dark hills. "Call it instinct."

Now, she did roll her eyes. "You sound just like my brother."

"If your brother trusts his instincts, then maybe he's smarter than I thought he was," Zuko muttered.

Katata quirked her brow. "His instincts led us directly into a Fire Nation camp once."

Zuko huffed out another irritated breath before he looked up at her. "Trust me on this, okay?"

"Maybe you're just paranoid," Katara drawled, but his glare shut her up. She sighed. "Whatever. I'm going to bed."

"Fine."

Katara slipped out of her boots and climbed into her bedroll. She listened as Zuko banked the fire. After a while, she heard him climb into his own bedroll. Soon, sleep came over her, and Katara drifted off.

Zuko lay awake for a long while, even as the fire died to embers and Katara's breathing deepened to a gentle lull. Even Dusty had laid down and dozed off a short while ago. But Zuko remained vigilant, feeling his sharply-honed instincts prickling. He'd snuck his dao swords into his bedroll, and he was ready in case anyone attacked.

Zuko couldn't explain it, but he had undergone years of warrior training. He had a knack for picking up on bad vibes, and that was all he'd been getting all day. They were being followed, although he didn't know by who, or by what. But he wasn't going to be so blindly trustful the way that Katara was. He'd seen too much, been through too much, to be so trusting.

For all he knew, Azula and her friends had tracked Katara from Omashu. Or worse, they'd been tracking him. Zuko's grip on his dao blades tightened. These would be useless against his prodigal sister. And if it was Azula, it wasn't as if he'd be needing his swords anyway. He'd have to firebend, although it likely wouldn't amount to much. His sister would probably arrest him. That was if she didn't kill him first.

Zuko's eyes flickered to the waterbender. He could just make out her soft features in the dying red glow. Thick, full eyelashes that cast feathery shadows over the hollows of her eyes, delicately arched eyebrows, full lips, broad, high cheekbones, and a gently sloping nose. She was pretty. But Zuko had learned over the last week and a half that Katara was so much more than a pretty face.

She was annoying sometimes, but she was optimistic and hopeful in a way that was infectious. The way she talked about the Avatar ending the war, of a future filled with peace, made him believe that such a thing might even be possible.

He thought Katara was telling him all of this stuff for a reason. Some quiet part of him thought that maybe she was gearing up to ask him to join the Avatar's crusade. The monk still needed a firebending teacher, and there weren't exactly a lot of defectors around to instruct him.

Zuko hoped that she wouldn't ask him to be the Avatar's teacher. He didn't know what he would say. Hadn't he done enough damage when he and Uncle attacked Azula? When Uncle fought Zhao? If his father didn't want him dead now, he surely would if Zuko helped the Avatar.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a twig snapping somewhere off to his left. The burn scar marring his face had done some damage to his hearing, but that had always been Zuko's sharpest sense, and his right ear made up for it plenty. He flexed his fingers against the hilt of his sword, ready.

Zuko breathed shallowly through his mouth as he listened to the subtle shifts in the night: he could hear the rustle of clothing and the breathing of at least three people. His gaze cut to Katara, who remained asleep and blissfully unaware in her bedroll. He tensed himself, ready to strike, as he counted the seconds until he gauged that the opponents were close enough.

Suddenly, Dusty lifted her head, letting out a disquieted squawk. Zuko chose that moment to leap out of his bedroll, brandishing his swords. His eyes fell on the four people who had been steadily creeping up on them.

"Stop!" Zuko roared commandingly. "Not another step closer!"

Behind him, he heard Katara finally wake up as she asked, voice thick with sleep, "What's going on?" Then, more alert, "Who the heck are you?"

Zuko risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that Katara had gotten out of her bedroll. Her waterskin wasn't on her waist, but instead sitting beside her boots.

"Hand over your valuables, son, and no one has to get hurt," one of the men said, brandishing a sickle-shaped weapon.

Zuko took a daring step closer, hefting his swords. "Fat chance. Turn around and go back where you came from, or else, old man."

The grizzled man appraised him skeptically. "Or what, sonny? You're gonna poke me with your little cow-pig stickers?"

"We'll do a lot worse than that!" came Katara's fierce growl, swiftly followed by a fast-powered jet of water that knocked the sickle-wielder off his feet.

Zuko glanced back at her and saw that she had grabbed her waterskin, and now brandished her weapon with a fierce look on her face. Zuko allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction before he threw himself into the fight.

It was over swiftly. The men clearly had no formal training and had likely learned on the streets. They were no match for Zuko, who had mastered dao swords even before he was banished, and for Katara, who was a master waterbender. Indeed, Zuko dispatched two of the men while Katara took care of the third, the two of them working well together to eliminate the threat. Katara left them frozen to the ground, unconscious.

"We should move," Zuko said as he sheathed his swords. "I want to put as much distance between us and them as possible."

Katara put her hand on her hip as she looked down at the thieves. "I don't think they're going to try that again."

"Maybe not, but I'd rather not take that chance."

"Oh, is it your instincts again?" she teased.

He glared at her as he began to roll up his bedroll. "I was right, wasn't I?"

She huffed. "Yeah, fine, whatever, you were right."

He and Katara quickly packed up camp before the thieves had even stirred. Dusty nickered irately at being disturbed before she had gotten enough rest, and Zuko petted her cheek as he thanked her quietly and promised to give her a moon peach the first chance he got.

"I wish you were that nice to me," Katara muttered as she watched him climb into the saddle.

"Dusty isn't annoying."

"Rude."

Katara pulled herself into the saddle, and then they were off. Zuko wanted to put a good amount of distance between them and the thieves, although Katara had assured him that ice wouldn't thaw until the sun shone on it in the morning. They didn't talk as they rode, each too tired after riding all day and then the fight. Katara hadn't put her arms around him to hold onto him this time, either.

After they had been riding for a few hours, Zuko suddenly felt her shift to the side. Zuko looked back in time to see her fall off the saddle. Katara hit the dirt with a sharp cry of pain, clutching at her arm.

"Katara!" Zuko shouted as he yanked on Dusty's reins.

The ostrich horse stopped moving and he jumped down, hurrying to her. He slid his arm around her shoulders and helped her sit up. Katara hissed between her teeth at the pain.

"What happened?" Zuko asked as he looked her over for other injuries.

"I fell asleep!" she snapped. Her hand rested gingerly on her arm. "I think I broke it."

"Shit. Let me make a sling then."

"No, it's fine. I can heal it."

Zuko looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "You can what?"

"I have healing abilities," Katara gritted out as she pushed up her sleeve. Then she uncapped her waterskin. "Give me a few minutes."

Zuko looked around. They were in a flat plain between two hills. Dawn was still several hours away, and he judged that they'd put enough distance between them and the thieves that they should have been safe.

"We'll make camp here," Zuko said after a moment. "You just...do your thing."

"Okay."

So Zuko laid out their bedrolls as Katara healed her broken arm. She had wrapped her hand in water and pressed it to the break in the bone. The water glowed a celestial blue, and Zuko found it hard to look away, utterly enraptured. In the water's cool glow, he could see the pain on her face ease.

"There," Katara said when she was done. She fed the water back into her pouch before she twisted her arm. "Good as new."

"That...is a very nice ability," Zuko found himself saying.

Katara looked up at him, surprised. Then she smiled. "It comes in handy." She climbed into her bedroll. "Now can we get some sleep? Or are your instincts warning you about some other danger?"

"Hey, I was right—"

"I'm just kidding. Good night, Zuko."

He settled into his own bedroll with a huff. "Good night."