"Aang only realizes that he has created an empty shell. Azula seems to be gone and he finally sees his mistake." Unfortunately he has seen it a little too late. To an extent the damage has already been done. "Azula on the other hand cannot deal woth the loss of her fire and the dreams of Ozai and Sangyul who forcing her to hurt herself over and over again." And yes this damage comes with a lot of agonizing for Azula. Much of the damage has been dealt to her psyche which was already in a fragile state. She needs to find herself again, basically. "As ever you have a way with describing nature and the beauty of it and this chapter is a perfect prove." And thank you once again, it's always a delight to type about nature and scenery.

She still feels hazy and out of sorts even hours into their trek. She hasn't spoken a word but Aang keeps the conversation going. He is so adamant about how pleased he is to see her walking on her own. He tries to rouse her with a jest about how she is heavy and hard to carry. She doesn't take the bait.

"Want to stop for a break?" He offers.

Azula considers. Her feet are rather sore and she is growing somewhat hungry but she still wants to put space between herself and that loathsome facility and those hateful people and the uninvited memories that come with them. They have long since made it past the point of being easily found, even still it doesn't feel like there is enough distance. She isn't sure that she will ever get far enough for the paranoia to leave her mind.

"I think that we should take a break." He says.

"Are you asking me if I want one or are you telling me that you want one?"

"Both."

"I can't imagine that you won't make the decision for me."

He winces, "it's your choice."

"I'd like to keep going."

"Are you sure. It might be good to get something to snack on and rest up…"

Azula tenses. "I'm sure!" She snaps. "Don't tell me what I want."

Aang lifts his hands. "I wasn't. I just thought that you might be tired because you've been through a lot and I don't want you to over…"

"I don't need your suggestions. I know what I want. I know what's best for me." Maybe if she insists as much hard enough she'll grow confident in it.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

She swallows, "I…" But maybe he is right, maybe she should slow herself down. It has been ages since she has done this much walking. Ages since she has done anything but lay around, take orders, and permit them to ravage her mind. Suffering had become her only form of activity. For it, she does feel slightly winded and there is a gentle but persistent stitch in her side. "Maybe we should stop."

And Aang does, he stops and goes tense all over. "Actually, we can keep going. You've been keeping up well enough." He resumes his walk and she follows in suit. Follows silently. But now she can't get it out of her mind that she might have made the wrong call. That she might be pushing her body too hard, too soon.

"Let me know when you want to stop." Aang says.

For a long time she says nothing at all. Nothing until the sun begins to have been traveling all day and for it her legs and sides ache. And her feet are absolutely killing her. Potent reminders that she is out of both shape and practice. She supposes that she should be happy that she can still manage such a long journey at all. "We should stop here."

Aang laughs, "I was hoping you'd say that. I'm exhausted."

"You are?"

"Aren't you?" He asks. "We've been walking for miles."

"Yes, where are we going anyways?" Azula sidesteps the question.

Aang rubs the back of his head. "To be honest, I was just trying to make sure that we weren't being followed."

She guesses that, that is fair enough but really it does them no good to be lost in a jungle with no supplies at all. She also gathers that it is partially on her for lapsing into a state of catatonia. "Do you know where we are?"

Aang shakes is head. "But I can find out. I managed to grab this before finding you." He opens his glider.

"Don't let them see you."

"I won't."

.oOo.

When he comes back down from the treetops, he sees her flicking a little flame back and forth. And then she makes several of them, one for each of her fingers. He doesn't think that she has noticed his descent. He observes her as she watches the flames dance. They glow on her nails as they would on candlewicks. A soft and warm orange. He feels a sudden pang for her. He isn't sure if she is bothered by their new, more ordinary hue, or if she is just relieved to have fire on her fingers at all.

"Maybe tomorrow we can make some time for you to do some real firebending?"

She is quiet for a very long time. "Perhaps."

"I thought that you'd be thrilled for a chance to use your fire again."

She shrugs and he isn't sure how to take it. One by one she lets the flames on her fingers flicker into smoke. He watches her lay back, eyes fixed on the stars. He wonders what is running through her head now that it is free of him. Free of his influence.

He thinks that it is a nice night out and that the stars above are probably a sublime and soothing sight for her after so many months of staring at an overwhelmingly white ceiling. He lets his spirit energy shift ever so slightly and he can see her aura outlining the whole of her body. It is still muted and still grey but those greys are being overpowered by the slowly encroaching browns of insecurity and confusion. Just before he draws back he catches the faintest glimpse of something new; a few specks of purple. Ambitious and royal purple.

He dares a soft smile. The purple is there, it is something to work with. Maybe, given time, he can drive the greys and browns away for blues and oranges and a healthy splash of red. And this time he will do it the right way.

"Azula?" He begins. He stops himself short hearing a sleepy murmur. She never struck him as a sleep talker. He might have tucked her in if he'd had any blankets. Instead he props himself up against a tree and keeps watch until he can keep his eyes open no more.

.oOo.

She doesn't feel quite so sore when she wakes. In fact, she feels almost reinvigorated. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, inhaling the jungle air. It is so fresh and clean. She very much welcomes it after such a long time of breathing in the same stale air.

She is hesitant to say that she feels good, but she doesn't feel quite so awful today. She refuses to let herself get attached to the relief, she knows that it will be short lived as soon as she tries bending and finds that she can't do as much as she had before, or at the very least won't have the stamina for it. She looks herself over and knows that all that she has worked for has gone to waste. Her arms lack the definition she had prided herself on and her legs aren't so toned. She has grown lanky and weak. Already she has soiled her decent mood, though it couldn't have been all that decent if it were so easy to squander.

She stands up, stretches, and sighs. She is going to have to get the first time over with eventually. She supposes that she'd rather work through her despair and frustration while the Avatar is slumbering.

She finds herself glad that she had.

She closes her eyes and breathes deeply in several times. It is familiar and comforting. She steps forward and stoops down, holding her arm slightly behind her. As she rises she throws her arm up in an elegant arc of flame. Her stomach drops and dread forms a bubble in her throat. What she created wasn't an arc. It could hardly be called firebending at all. It could be called embarrassing. Useless. Pathetic.

A small burst that dissipated into nothing almost as soon as it had come forward.

She sinks to the ground, draws her knees up, and hugs them to herself. She is so cold with unease and dissatisfaction that she can't even hope to give it a second try. What have they done to her? What has she allowed them to do to her? She rubs her hands over her face as it truly settles in; even escaping Sangyul's grasp won't be enough to get rid of the imprints he left on her mind. Even fleeting that facility won't bring Azula back. She is certain that she no longer knows who Azula is.