Katara vs. Blue Spirit.
The clearing was dark when the two wary travelers passed through.
One wore all black, his blue mask peeking out from under a dark hood.
A woman on an opposite path wore Water Tribe Robes under a green cloak.
The two met in the middle, surprised and agitated.
The man dropped his hood and drew swords.
The woman readied herself in a bending stance.
A creek swished nearby, and the moon had just risen.
The man's agitation increased as he realized that she was favored in this battle.
He rushed towards her, his knives slicing silence.
She let out a whoosh of air and drew ice daggers.
The clang of metal on ice was crisp and clean.
Every once in a while she would gasp at a fresh wound.
Sometimes he could be heard panting from exhaustion.
Yet, they charged on.
She drenched him in water and froze his feet to the ground.
He gashed her arm and cut the end of her braid.
They dropped their weapons and punched through the still night.
Kicking and roaring they collided into one another.
Her hands on his arms, his palms on her hips.
Faces pointed to one another.
The climax of the battle had come.
And he lifted his mask and she drew her cloak.
Yet neither were shocked by who they saw.
And their mouths came together and they held each other closer.
Lightning crackled above them.
And when they were done and their bodies had parted, they left.
It was routine after such encounters.
And both man and woman knew they would be seeing the other again.
Very Soon.