A/N: Thanks for reading/reviewing. This next one is Sokka.


Sokka: Precious Little to Laugh About


Katara likes to deny it, but everyone in our little group knows that I am leader. I'm a born leader, really; it's in my blood. Dad's chief of the Southern Tribe, just as I'll be one day. And for two long years, I looked over my entire village, acting as the only warrior of the entire tiny population (Katara doesn't count. She wasn't that good of a Waterbender).

So it's only natural that I'm leader. I'm the oldest, the smartest (Aang may be Avatar, but he certainly doesn't have an Avatar's aged wisdom), and the most rational. When we're in pinches, I'm the one to get us out of them. I'm the one who gets the food. I'm the one who watches out for everyone. My instincts are the best out of the four of us.

All right, I'll admit that I might be a little lazy sometimes. But who isn't? And who doesn't like food? Katara says I have an obsession with it, but it's quite simple, really: I'm a man, and I need food to survive. Sometimes I wonder if Katara forgets who the food-supplier of the group is.

And I know that I act a bit goofy sometimes, but really, a good laugh is what we all need these days, because there's precious little to laugh about. Traveling around and evading every single person that we just happen to look at the wrong way is harder than you might think. Being in the middle of a century-long war and being surrounded by people who hate each other's guts doesn't help either. It's a hard job, trying to keep everyone in one piece, making sure that Aang doesn't get captured or Katara isn't killed or Toph doesn't run headfirst into a wall (I know she can see, sorta, but she's still blind).

So naturally, it's my job as leader to make sure everyone's in good spirits. And if that involves a little exaggerated acting, that's perfectly fine with me. Besides, a good leader doesn't necessarily like to have lots of attention or be single out. Good, selfless leaders just watch their workings from afar, remaining anonymous to history, satisfied that even if they aren't remembered, their legacy shall live on. So maybe that's what I'm getting at. I don't know.

All I know is that I have to put on a determined expression when everyone else is crying or in despair. I have to hide my own sorrow or fear in my mind and play the part that I must—I'm the leader, that's what I do. I have to set an example, be a role model.

Everyone suffers. Leaders just hide it.