Chapter originally published February 17, 2015
Re-posted with more material on May 20, 2015

"It's Quiet Uptown"

The family is the test of freedom, because the family is the only thing that the free man makes for himself and by himself. ~ G.K. Chesterton

It is necessary to keep Korra and himself mostly secluded, but Noatak does not keep her sheltered. Far from it: he wants and needs her to know what kind of world they live in.

He takes her with him to do volunteer work at the hospital and several soup kitchens. Sometimes, when they serve food, they take time to sit with the regulars and talk to them. Noatak asks them about their pasts, how they ended up where they are now. He does not shield Korra from the unpleasant details of the violence and damage benders inflict, often resulting in hospitalization. Sometimes victims arrive too late—the triads like to bribe police and even paramedics to ignore calls for help. And most of the people who have trouble paying their medical bills are nonbenders with lower incomes. Volunteer work is the best way to meet people who have been hurt by benders, which is essential for his recruitment and Korra's education.

He also enrolls her in self-defense classes, where she can interact with other children and make a few friends her own age. He stays to watch the first lesson, so she does not feel abandoned, but she becomes so involved with the forms and her classmates that she seems to forget about him. After that, he starts leaving her there, giving himself a few hours to himself each week. And, by a great stroke of luck—or perhaps destiny—one of the children in the class is the daughter of the recently widowed Hiroshi Sato.

Korra is not shy; in fact he has to admonish her to be polite and not too forward. Ironically, the classmate who shows her the most kindness is the most polite one, Asami Sato. Korra reports that the sifu usually assigns them as partners because they are neck and neck at the top of class.

After a few weeks, Noatak arrives to walk Korra home and is cornered by both of the girls. "Dad, can I play at Asami's house?"

The little heiress is usually chauffeured by a servant rather than her father. "Tell your father I'd like to meet him before Korra visits."

Hiroshi Sato himself comes to the next lesson, and the two single fathers talk while their daughters and other children work in the studio. For the first time, Noatak has someone with whom he can compare his parenting methods. He admits that Korra is adopted—there is no shame in that, as adoptions are becoming more and more common. He listens to Hiroshi's sob story and acts sympathetic when Hiroshi seems close to despair regarding Asami's safety. Then he slips Hiroshi a card with the time and location of the next Equalist meeting. He arranged it to take place during the girls' next class. "If you want to do more to keep her safe, this group would be glad to help."

Hiroshi is the first person to see him as both Noatak and Amon. He tries to alter his voice slightly when he speaks as Amon; the other regulars do not seem to notice, or at least refrain from commenting on it. Hiroshi pays rapt attention to the discourse, and willingly shares his experience, and offers whatever financial or technological resources will be necessary for their work.

"Do you know any other influential nonbenders who might be able to contribute?" Amon asks.

Hiroshi takes his time answering, cupping his bearded chin in his hand. "I suppose there's Varrick, of Varrick Industries—a self-made millionaire, like myself. He might join this cause if he thought he could profit from it. But as far as I know, he's never had any grievance against benders."

After a lengthy investigation and much deliberation, Amon decides against seeking Varrick's alliance, since the man seems to make investments based on monetary gain rather than moral or ethical implications. For this revolution, Amon needs true believers, not fair-weather fliers.

The first time Korra comes home from visiting the Sato estate, her hair is divided into three braids rather than her usual three ponytails. "Asami showed me how to braid her hair, and I'm going to grow my hair out so I can do more stuff with it."

The braids are still in her hair when she comes to Noatak's bed after midnight. She makes the customary excuse about a nightmare, but he sometimes wonders if she is really having them or just wants to be with him. He hopes it is the latter.

In the morning, he rises before her, blocks her chi, and goes to the bathroom. When he looks up in the mirror, he is startled to see five tiny braids sticking out from the rest of his hair.

His voice booms through the door: "Korra?" He hears her giggling, and he laughs too, because he looks absurd. "Alright, that's funny, but don't do it again, okay?"

"Let me see!"

Noatak opens the door, and stands for about a second before turning back to the mirror and undoing her mischief. "You need to brush your hair, too. It looks like a spider-rat's nest."

"Can you braid it?"

"Can't you braid your own hair?"

"It looks better when someone else does it."

He pauses. "My mother used to put her hair in braids that made loops on each side of her face … do you want me to do it for you?"

He wonders at the way Korra lights up at this suggestions. She brushes her hair rapidly and then hoists herself up to sit on the sink counter. She kicks her legs forward and swings them back to bang on the lower cabinet while Noatak attempts to make the two braids. "Stop that," he says. She is so strong she could damage the wood.

She stops, and then asks, "What was Grandma like?"

Hearing her use the honorific label makes him want to laugh again, but his throat tightens as though fighting pain.

"She was very kind. She …" He hardly ever thinks about her, but now he tries to remember, groping for details Korra will be able to understand. He does not know anything about the complexity of her personality; by the time he was old enough to critique it, he felt alienated from her by secrets. "She made excellent food. She showed us how to make clothes from the pelts of animals we caught. We didn't have books, so she told us stories instead."

She would have loved to be a grandmother. Korra may not be a blood relative, but she would love her … even as the idea occurs to him, he knows that returning and finding her is not an option. He does not even know if she is alive.

He sets Korra back on the floor, and then hugs her, longer and tighter than usual. He pulls back to kiss her cheek, but she holds up her hands. "No!" He is startled, and wonders if he has done something wrong, but she merely says, "Your face hurts in the morning!"

"My—" Of course. He has not shaved yet.

On one playdate, Asami teaches Korra how to play Pai Sho, and Korra in turn asks Noatak if they can buy a board. He holds out until her birthday, and before he presents it to her, he spends hours studying the rulebook so that he will be able to play without her having to teach him.

As it turns out, the way the Satos play the game is one of many different versions listed in the rulebook. So Korra ends up questioning his moves and pointing out alternatives. She is a bright child, and he does not just think that because she is his pupil.

He only wishes she required less of his time. The hours she spends at her class or the Sato mansion are precious to him, because he can meet with associates and potential allies in person. He even arranges for Korra to spend nights with the Satos so he can conduct meetings and give speeches to small assemblies. The rest of the time, he operates through phone calls and telegrams, and does paperwork at home.

There are many days when he has to deflect Korra's attention and boundless energy toward books or the radio, with the insistence that he has to do his own work in his room. When she is in a curious or impudent mood (which is often) she asks, "What are you working on?"

He gives a vague answer, like "Writing letters" or "Drawing".

But after touring the factory that Hiroshi Sato built, Korra addresses him, both casual and blunt. "Asami's dad is an inventor. What's your job, Dad?"

It is the first time she has asked him in so many words. "It's hard to explain," he says carefully. "It's all related to helping nonbenders in need." He feels this is telling the truth.

"You really like helping people, huh?"

"Yes, I do." There is a lot more to it, but at least she grasps that foundation of his ideology. "Don't you like it?"

She merely shrugs, as indifferent and self-centered as any nine-year-old.

An unusual encounter at the soup kitchen cements her own conviction in helping others. It could be called a double encounter, as it involves two patrons.

Korra notices them because they are children, about her age, and they come in by themselves, not with a parent or social worker. One of them wears a red scarf, which she finds strange in such warm weather, but maybe they're homeless and don't have a place to keep extra clothes. Korra doesn't have much anyway, but Noatak always buys her different clothes for summer and winter weather.

"I'm going to bring them seconds," Korra says, and hurries off before Noatak can question her. She gets a plate of pork buns and comes to the side of the boys' table, holding it out as an offering. "Want some more?"

Their eyes light up with green delight and amber surprise. "You bet!" the shorter, green-eyed one says.

Korra puts the plate down in front of them; then, without asking, she sits on the other side of the table, facing the two of them. "So, what's your story?"

"Huh?" The sound comes from the taller boy, the one with amber eyes and a red scarf.

"Um … why do you come here?"

The one with the scarf answers shortly, "We're hungry."

Korra feels flustered, a feeling she hates. Noatak makes talking to strangers look easy, and most adults open up to him quickly. She does not even know what questions to ask. "Where are your parents?"

The boys exchange glances as they chew and swallow their food. They don't say anything to each other, but they must communicate something she cannot understand because the elder boy says, "We lost them."

"Oh. … I'm sorry." Korra thinks of Asami, whose mother was killed by a firebender just a few years ago. That makes her wonder. "Was it an accident? Or did someone do something to them?"

The elder boy looks miffed at her forwardness. But the younger boy merely hesitates before admitting, "It was a firebender. We've been on our own ever since."

"Really? Where do you live?"

"None of your business," the taller boy says, standing up. "Come on, Bo." They stuff their pockets with the uneaten bread and dumplings.

Bo looks over his shoulder at Korra as they leave. "Thanks for the food!"

"You're welcome! Good luck!" she shouts after them. She is not sure what she wishes them luck in doing—surviving? Finding better lives? She feels more somber than sad. She is used to seeing poverty and hearing about misfortune, so it doesn't shock her, but seeing children suffer that way is disheartening. At least adults can work to earn money to feed themselves. What can kids do to take care of themselves?

Noatak watches the interaction from the longer table where he is serving food. When she carries the plates back to the kitchen he asks her, casually but gently, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah."

"Did you feel bad for them?"

Her first response was automatic; now it is heavy with honesty. "Yeah."

"It amazes me to think … you could have been like that." He shakes his head, continuing to wash, but Korra stares at him. She has always known that she was adopted, but she has never considered what her life would be like if Noatak had not adopted her. He has told her it was a closed adoption, so he knows nothing about her biological parents, and there is no way to contact them.

Korra is not sure what she hopes more, that they wanted her but died, or gave her up but are still alive. She tries not to care either way.

Korra is a bit of a daredevil, at least when she has the opportunity, away from Noatak's supervision. She tries driving Asami's moped, a Future Industries forklift, and other vehicles. When they swim in Asami's pool, or in the bay during warm weather, they contest who can whole their breath longer, until Noatak shouts at them to stop. She climbs trees higher than Noatak allows; in so doing, she sprains her ankle on one occasion and breaks her arm on another. She hates the debilitating casts, but not enough to keep her from trying new foolhardy feats. When Asami describes her parkour class, Korra tries making her own obstacle courses on the apartment rooftop, and sometimes runs through the streets without stopping just to test herself on using her environment. She climbs their building's fire escape in the most unorthodox ways, dangling off the iron stairs and railings, testing her strength as she pulls herself back up. Granted, she is strong, but her accumulation of injuries—apparent in the number of scrapes and scars on her limbs—is a cause for some concern. If she goes too far, she could reveal her bending under pressure, bending water as she tries not to drown, or bending earth as she falls to the ground.

Noatak has eased off somewhat on blocking her chi, but incidents like falling from a tree to the ground remind him that he has to stay vigilant. In the early mornings, he can block enough chi with one blow to keep her asleep while he blocks her limbs.

On the other hand, if she needed her bending to save her—or if she made any kind of stupid mistake—if she were to die—

He does not want to think about how that would affect him personally, but he has to consider what it would mean for the Equalists, and for the world. Each nation's religious leaders would see the signs, and a search for the new Avatar would begin in the Earth Kingdom. Noatak does not know if he would have the heart, or the patience, to go after another one. If it came to that, he does not think he could raise another Avatar himself. Korra is the only one he wants. As stubborn and insufferable as she can be, he has come to love her, even if he does not say so.

Still, he has to get her ready for the path he hopes she will choose to take.

He makes her keep a journal of current events they learn about from the newspaper and radio. The airbending master and his wife have two more children, after intervals of about three years between each. The Chief of the Northern Water Tribe appoints a new representative to the United Republic Council. When Korra notices Noatak staring at the picture in the newspaper, he merely comments that it seems strange to have someone so young in government. The other Council members are middle-aged or elderly, while Tarrlok is in his late thirties or early forties. "I guess we'll see how he does," he says finally, folding up the newspaper.

For physical activity, they run through the park, or up and down the apartment stairs. Noatak installs a bar in the small corridor between their bedrooms so they can practice chin-ups. He buys a punching bag for Korra's birthday, so she can practice her self-defense techniques at home. But he also tries teaching her some more offensive tactics, the forerunners of chi-blocking (something he deeply hopes to teach her when she is older).

Korra's science education includes growing flowers and vegetables on the rooftop, cooking meals, touring the Future Industries facilities, and—her favorite—field trips. They go on camping trips into the mountains, every three or four years. He teaches her the survival skills nonbenders must use, techniques he had to learn during his years of traveling alone.

"Is it like this in the Water Tribes?" she asks, surveying the snowy terrain. Even in the spring, the mountains are covered with snow. It still reminds Korra of her old life, before she came to Republic City, though the specific memories are dimmer now.

"Somewhat," he says noncommittally.

"Did Grandpa ever take you camping?"

"Not for fun, like you and I do. He took my brother and me on hunting trips."

"Can we hunt?"

"No. It's too much of a hassle to get permission to hunt in places like this, where it isn't necessary for survival." They eat the food they packed, but they do make a fire for light and heat. Korra asks if he can tell scary stories, but he lies and says he knows none.

Noatak takes her fishing in the bay, and sometimes they explore the coasts outside the city. They bring Asami on one trip, but she is more interested in examining the mechanics of the motorboat and fishing rods than in actually fishing or observing nature. Korra is also too impatient to wait for fish to bite, but she enjoys and is good at navigating.

Her favorite type of field trip, one saved for special occasions because it actually costs money, is visiting the zoo. Noatak tells her what he can remember about arctic animals. They stay in that section for hours. Noatak wonders if she remembers the antarctic, the constant snow and ice of the tundra.

But there is no way she could have seen a polar-bear dog, which is the animal that fascinates and amuses her the most. The plaque reports that it is a female, Naga, apparently the same age as Korra, or at least at the same proportional stage of life, midway through maturity.

A glass wall separates them from the beast's arctic habitat. Korra presses her hand against the glass barrier, watching as Naga meanders around the pool.

On the walk home Noatak asks her, "Would you like a pet? Something you could take care of?" He does not like the idea of anything big that might make messes or cause trouble, but something small might be good for Korra.

But she shakes her head. "I don't think a polar-bear dog would fit in the apartment."

"You really like them that much?"

"Just that one. Naga. I can't explain it, but I feel like she's the same as me, somehow."

He wonders what she means. Is she lonely? Does she feel trapped, like a wild animal kept in a cage? Or different, like someone taken out of their environment, and forced to adapt to a new one? He tells himself he is probably thinking too much of it.

As Korra gets older, Noatak entrusts her with assignments to complete on her own, sometimes enough for several days at a time, while he meets, trains, and plans with his Equalists. They are growing in numbers, and his presence is needed more as the movement slowly gains momentum. He feels confident leaving Korra alone in the apartment. She can cook her own meals and take care of herself for the most part.

He always comes in and checks on her when he comes home. If she has fallen asleep by then, he kisses her cheek before retiring himself. If she is still awake, they debrief on what she did while he was gone. She also asks about his days, and he tries to tell her some truth—"I spoke at a meeting, and I did better than I expected, so I'm hopeful that it will bring results."

She is almost thirteen when he notices her shape changing, the same way he always notices when she is starting to outgrow a garment. He cannot imagine offering to take her shopping for some kind of chest support or whatever they use in this city. He thinks his mother just wrapped herself in sarashi, but the memory is so dim—probably from his infancy, if it is even accurate—that he cannot be sure.

Noatak decides to be discreet and buy her an array of devices of varying size, and leaves the bag on her bed for her to find in the evening.

The next day, she does not mention anything, but her shape is a little less pronounced. Noatak feels relieved to have avoided such awkwardness.

Korra has her thirteenth birthday a few months later. They call it her birthday, though it is really the anniversary of her adoption. Some years, on this day, Noatak recounts to her their first few months together. He admits to being nervous during that time, and that admission heightens her awareness that, even now, he does not always know what he is doing. Her memory of the transition is dim, so she believes what he says about choosing her, and how the matter of choice was what made their family special.

She does not have enough friends for a real birthday party, but Noatak lets her invite Asami to spend the night with them. It is the first time a stranger has been in their apartment. If Korra feels at all embarrassed about their humble abode, she does not show it. The spacious rooftop and its panoramic view of the city partly makes up for the apartment's smallness.

The girls practice sparring, like old times, just for fun. Then Noatak shows the girls how to make Water Tribe-style accessories, so they spend the evening making vambraces, armbands, and necklaces. Korra and Asami braid rope bracelets for each other. "The girls at my school give each other friendship bracelets," Asami explains. "But I like this style better," she adds, to be polite to Noatak.

After dinner, they give Korra her birthday gifts. Noatak gives her a necklace, even though she has never been very interested in jewelry. He braided the choker himself, but he bought the pendant at a jewelry store, making the gift a combination of craftsmanship and commerce. The characters for "daughter," 女兒, are carved into the blue pendant. The necklace makes Korra think of an animal collar. It does not give her a name, but a label for the only defining relationship in her life.

Asami's gift is a package containing an assortment of sports magazines. Korra is pleased and even a little excited, but she becomes confused when she sees one about pro-bending—and then another—more than half of the dozen-odd magazines are about pro-bending! Asami explains her assumption that since Korra is such a good athlete, she must be able to appreciate the sport.

In Korra's bedroom, out of Noatak's sight, they look at the magazines together. Korra knows nothing about the sport, and is surprised by Asami's enthusiasm for it, but she looks through the pages with a strange mixture of wonder, repulsion, and curiosity.

Eventually Noatak makes them turn out the lights, but they do not bother trying to sleep. Instead they talk about Asami's private school and the people she knows there. Most of them are boarders, but Asami lives at home because her father wants her close. They compare their fathers, and share what they remember of their mothers.

"You're lucky you got so much time with your mom," Korra says, wistful but not unkind.

"I know … but that also makes it harder, now that she's gone. Do you miss your parents?"

"I don't think miss is the right word. I don't remember them well enough to miss them."

They move on to more optimistic topics. They talk about getting jobs at Future Industries, or starting their own dojo, or circumventing the globe.

In the morning, the moment Asami goes out the door, Noatak throws the magazines into the garbage bin. "I don't know what Hiroshi thinks he is doing by letting her follow this sport," he mutters, tearing a bound issue in half as Korra watches from the kitchen table. "It's barbaric, watching benders hurt each other, worshiping the winners like heroes, building an entire economic industry around them. It all comes down to greed for power, fame, and wealth. That's what nonbenders support when they endorse these sports."

For years to come, Korra remembers those words more clearly than anything Asami told her about the sport.

Noatak tells himself this must be their last camping trip, because from now on he has to devote more of his time to the movement he is creating, so it can gain the strength and momentum it needs.

It is easier now that Korra is older: she can carry half of their supplies, and hike fast across the slopes; she picks up firewood along the way. When they find a good campsite, she helps set up the tent, and sets up wood for the fire, the way he showed her. She is becoming a capable, self-sufficient young woman.

They spend two nights in the snow-capped mountains, trekking from one campsite to the next. She recognizes them individually from past trips, and now sees how they are connected by the long trails. They catch fish in a stream, the closest they can come to hunting together.

In the afternoon after their first night, the sky becomes gray with clouds. Noatak can feel the blizzard coming before a single flake falls. They are too deep in the forested area to turn back for civilization. "We'll have to set up camp early and wait out the storm," he decides. He is not particularly worried about the cold. He has survived far worse weather than anything the United Republic's climate can produce.

"Will we be okay?" Korra is not afraid, but she bases her feelings on his assessment of the situation.

"Of course we will. But, we should get more wood and water before the storm hits."

They stop at the first clearing they find, not a proper campsite, but they make do. "I'll look for firewood," she offers as he starts setting up the tent.

"Fine—just stay within a hundred yards of here."

Korra returns with a rather meager pile of sticks. "There aren't many branches on the ground," she says. She glances at their canteens, which are almost empty after the day's hike. "Couldn't I refill our water and get more wood on the way?"

"You remember where the stream is?"

"Yeah, I remember the shape it made up this way," she says, gesturing northeast.

"Alright. Be back in half an hour." That will give her fifteen minutes to walk to and from the stream.

Noatak ties the food up out of predators' reach, sets up their sleeping bags in the tent, and makes a fire pit, though he is uncertain whether they will actually make a fire while it is snowing. Staying in the tent might be the warmer option.

The snow starts to fall before Korra returns. It is too cloudy to measure time with the sun—he should have realized that when he allowed her to leave. Korra is probably glad she got away with that. He thinks it has been at least half an hour. Three quarters will be pushing it, he thinks; but Korra does not return by his approximation of that time. Now he feels justifiably worried, as the flakes get thicker.

Noatak takes up a flashlight and leaves the campsite, trudging toward the stream. He runs through possibilities in his mind. Korra is resourceful, but she is also reckless, and sometimes careless. She could have gotten turned around, losing her way to or from the freshwater source.

This is the first time Noatak can remember being truly afraid for her safety. He has worried about her in general, after accidents that resulted in her injury, but he has never been held in suspense like this.

He spies one of their canteens on the ground, some twenty yards downhill from the stream. She was here, but why was she going farther away from him? Surely she would not deliberately run away—even if she had that in her, she would know better than to do it with a blizzard coming. Noatak realizes his own hypocrisy at once: that was exactly what he did in his youth. But Korra has no reason to leave him. Unless she found out one of the many secrets he has been keeping from her. Would betrayal drive her away from him?

Noatak shakes his head, as though that will clear his mind. He has to stay calm. These are his general fears, not relevant to this particular situation. He has to focus.

He closes his eyes and tries to feel past the snow all around him, searching for water in a different form, inside living bodies. He has bent the blood of benders he caught committing crimes—he had to kill them later, to keep both his known ability and the ability he sought a secret—but now he tries to feel without controlling. He knows Korra so well, he thinks he should be able to recognize her.

Yes, he feels the heat of her blood, a sharp contrast against the cold snow, bigger than any of the small animals that live in the mountains, more concentrated than the water-filled trees and plants. She is further down the slope, to his right.

He finds her curled up at the base of a tree, her arms pulled into the body of her coat, leaving the sleeves limp at her sides. She is leaning sideways against the trunk, her head bowed drowsily.

"Korra!" Noatak kneels and shakes her by the shoulders. Her eyes are open, but her brown lips are nearly blue, and she cannot form words with them. He scoops her up, holding her tightly against him, and runs the distance back to their tent. He wishes he could make a fire inside the shelter, but that would risk smoking them out.

He pulls off her outer coat. Thankfully her clothes are not soaked through, but he helps her change into warmer pajamas anyway, and wraps the blankets around both of them. She shivers against him, and he rubs her arms and back rhythmically until she relaxes. He makes her eat some of their high-carbohydrate food and drink warm water (she does not ask how it came to be warm). As the evening wears on he can feel her temperature gradually adjust back to normal.

"How do you feel?" he asks after some time.

"Better. Warm." She can speak now, and hear and understand him.

"What happened to you? Your job was simple—you said you knew the way—"

"It wasn't my fault! I didn't just get lost. I was attacked."

This is unexpected, and troubling. He raised her to be capable of defending herself. "By who?"

"The question is what. It wasn't like any animal I've seen."

"Describe it."

"It … it was dark blue … it looked like a kind of giant bug, but it was as big as me … made this hissing sound …"

That sounds like something he has only ever heard of. "A spirit?"

"… Maybe? It came at me, so I tried kind of sledding down the slope. It worked, I got away, but I tripped—I guess I crashed." She pauses. "I blacked out for a while. I remember dreaming." She does not tell him what she dreamed about. "I woke up, and my tracks were covered, so I didn't know what direction I'd come from. I didn't want to go in circles, and I thought I should save my energy. I figured you'd come looking for me."

She was not trying to leave him. She had faith that he would search for her. A child's faith. A daughter's faith. Was it misplaced? He found her, yes, but it took longer than it should have, and the truth of the matter is that she could have saved herself if she had only known she was capable of doing so. Noatak has always thought that, if Korra ever rediscovered her bending by accident, it would probably be in an emergency, even more likely a life-or-death situation. Now, for the first time in their shared lives, he wonders if he has been wrong to not tell her that she is a bender. If she knew she could firebend, she could have kept herself warm until he found her. If she knew she could waterbend, she could have easily made some kind of shelter out of snow. She almost died because he kept her abilities a secret.

For the first time in a decade, he wonders if he is doing the right thing.

But feeling her snuggle against him for warmth and security, he decides he is doing well enough. At the same time, he realizes just how much he wants and needs her.

"I'd scold you now if we weren't both so tired. I was … afraid for you, Korra."

He almost never tells her his emotions, so she knows how serious this is. "I'm sorry, Dad."

He finds her hand under the blankets, and holds it against his chest. "Please don't leave me."

"I won't."

"Good girl." He kisses the top of her head and finally allows himself to relax. The night is long, but he does not mind; he drifts contentedly in the area between sleep and wakefulness, drowsy enough to rest, but conscious enough to remember his daughter asleep and warm in his arms. His last coherent thought is that he will never risk losing her again.

Disclaimer: it was pulpofiction who first used the idea of Korra seeing Naga in a zoo.

Artwork: "Here" by Emorephic on DeviantArt, for the scene when Korra gives the boys food

Music: "It's Quiet Uptown" from Hamilton. I first thought of the song as describing Senna and Tonraq coping with the loss of Korra, but for this chapter it fits with Hiroshi mourning his wife and how both he and Noatak worry about losing their daughters.