/ Early Morning /
Stroke after stroke...she keep drawing the character for wind over and over... It was something that would never leave her,
sadness and depression seemed to be the only emotions that dwelled within her. The aged parchment on which she was
drawing her kanjis on was by now, seeping with red ink. She staired down onto the paper, it's corners and edges curled up
with age. Tears slowly leaked from her eyes, part hate and love where eating away at her. How she hated him for going off
to war, and how she loved him. She would do anything for him.
More tears soaked the paper through. After ten silent moments, she finally realized she was weeping once more. Katara slowly
brought her hand to her face and gasped she felt wetness upon her face. She wipped the tears from her face, took the yellowing
parchment and folded it gingerly. As she stood from her seat, a thought crossed her mind. Slowly stepping out of her chambers,
she quickly ran down the hall to Aang's dress-room. As she slid the rice paper door open, she quickly dashed in, as if not to be seen
by any one. As she came upon his dressing table, she placed the age-old parchment on the wood, then ran out of the room, making
as much noise as humanly possible.
She didn't stop running, her wooden sandles clanked on the teak flooring as she went, her kimono dragged as she went. As she ran,
her hair fell from it's perfect shape, to tangles all around her face. Tears became her once again, and flowed. Her make-up was no more
as it was washed from her face by her tears. Aang, hearing all the noise she was making, came out of his sleepind quaters. He slowly rubbed
his eyes, he then came to realizeation that the front doors to his dressing room had been opened. He quickly dashed into his room, lighting
a paper lanturn. He glanced all around his room, nothing seemed out of placed, or missing for the matter. He slowly backed out of the room,
only to notice a peice of paper on his desk that was not there early that night. He approched the paper with caution. As he took hold of the
parchment, he unfolded it. It had the characters for wind, water, and love over and over. And then finally the kanji for death and suffering at
the very bottom. He gasped, for he knew this style of script. It was more femine, curled. It's was Katara's brush-work. He quickly folded the
note back up and placed it in his robes, ran out of the room. He ran down the same hall that Katara had just moments before. As he came
to the front of the palace, he noticed the front gates had been let open, and a pathetic looking figure loomed in the shadows in front of them.
"Katara?" He called out, unsure of who the figure was. He slowly walked forward, holding out the lanturn to get a glimpse of who it was.
As he came close, he could make out her distinct features. Hair that ran the lenght of her back, blue kimonos, and wooden sandles that only
royalty would be able to afford. "Katara..." he trailed as he heard her whimper. "Katara...why are you out here? It's pouring..." He said as he
tried to take her hand. As he took hold of her hand, she ripped it away. "Don't touch me..." She said in a week voice. Aang stood back and
looked at her with pure shock. "Katara..." He repeated. She said nothing. "You will never see these tears I've cried." She ran from the palace,
to the wood. It was raining, more than it had in over 200 years. The seam of her kimono suddenly snagged on a root, with that she came
tumbling forward. Aang rushed to her, to help her up. When he placed his hands on her shoulders, she suddenly fell forward, and onto
his stomache. She was soaked throught to the bone, her hair a tangled mess of knots and snags. Even though she was so close to the one
she loved most, nothing could stop her shivering and sneezing. Aang placed a hand on her fore-head, she had the worst fever he had ever
known. "Katara...you are sick...we need to get you inside..." He said as he tried to pick her up. "No..." She moaned as she stumbled.
Suddenly a bright flash of thunber lite up the night sky. "You go to war...I'll stay here...and..." She mumbled as she placed a hand over her face. She swayed slightly, and then tumbled to the ground. "Katara! Katara!" Aang shouted as he ran to her side. He scooped her up in his arms, leaving the lanturn. He treaded back up to the palace, the sun was now slowly rising over the horizon. By the time he had gotten her inside, inbed, and able to locate the in-house medicine man, Katara's state had slowly worsened.
TBC...