There are some things that you really can't help.
Death is one of them.
Sokka's cooking, Aang soon realized, after accepting a 'sympathy pastry', was another.
"Sokka, this is awful!"
He shrugged.
"I never said these were any good. Why do you think Katara is always snapping that she never wants my sympathy?"
The two boys glanced at each other, eyes meeting.
"Because she's crazy?" Aang quipped.
"My sister is as crazy as your monks are dead."
Aang glanced down briefly, eyes sad.
"Yeah…"
Sokka sighed. That was a stupid remark.
"She is pretty nuts!" the boy said, cackling.
"As insane as my monks are dead—and as your cooking can kill any plundering mice—this stuff is disgusting!"
The boys collapsed into laughter.
