Another piece of my Heart and Soul for you!

As always, you guys are amazing! I can't put into words how much I love to hear from you guys! It really motivates me to keep going, keep me motivated and keeps me writing this fic! And thank you for bearing with me with through the restructure. I know it wasn't strictly necessary, but I like to keep my continuity consistent XD

Especially to Jak Fortune and Chevalier Lecteur! And Respite88! How have I not given you guys the shout out you deserve yet?! You guys have made my week yet again, you're amazing! You, everyone who reads this, please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Knowing I've done a good job means the world to me!

Thank you for reading!


Somehow, she convinces him to try skimming again. And again. It takes the next four rainy nights of waking with the pattering above his head and collecting her from her cell before Zuko can make it across the deck without falling on the only place a Firebender can't make the sun shine.

And then it rains during the day, after a long dry spell, and Katara's practically clawing at the walls in between her moves of Pai Sho. She gets so annoying, Zuko says protocol be damned, it's his ship, and takes her up during the day to run off some of that frantic energy. Expecting some resistance, he doesn't know whether to be relieved or embarrassed when none of his soldiers offer so much as an odd look as he walks the prisoner to the deck.

Perhaps their night-time excursions hadn't been as incognito as he first thought.

But it makes coming back up again the next day less awkward. And the time after that.

Zuko feels only flickers of that embarrassment now as he leans against the railing of the upper deck, watching the amethyst sky deepen. Washed deep in peach pink and sunset purple, the sky sinks into twilight, and Zuko experiences a similar sinking within himself. Another day slowly ebbing into quiet night. Another day cast out to sea, cast out from his home.

Katara waits for the moon to show half her face beside him. Bound arms rest on the railing, chains dangling over the edge as she entertains herself by catching his crew members in its loop like a child looking through a spyglass. That one condition has stayed. If she wants to leave her cell, her hands must be capped so she can't bend.

Chains lock together as Katara's shoulders stiffen, hunching in and she hugs herself tight. Zuko watches her try to supress the shiver for a few seconds, until she catches his stare and stops, letting bone-deep shudders ripple through her body. "Fine, I'm cold. Waterbenders can get cold, too. Especially when they have freezing metal encasing their hands."

She shakes the chains for good measure. In the frigid air they glisten, until he takes them in his own and melts away the burgeoning frost. Leaning down, her manacled hands cupped in his, he exhales a wide cloud of warm steam onto the metal.

Shudders of an entirely different nature wrack through Katara. He feels them until she pulls her hands from his to hold against her. "Oh, spirits that feels good. If only I could feel how amazing it is on my actual skin." She doesn't see his cheeks flush, too busy pressing the warm metal to her dusky cheek. "What was that?"

He swallows, trying not to picture the breathy image she so effortlessly implants in his head. "Firebenders call it the Breath of Life."

"Fitting," she hums, hugging the warm coil of chains to her midsection now.

"I could get you a cloak?" he offers.

"You'd have to let me take the cuffs off to put it on."

"Nice try."

A shrug and playful side smile convey how little effort went into the attempt. "Look," she breathes, leaning back over the railing. He does, and frowns, but she's too engrossed with the scene below them to see. "They're dancing."

Indeed, his crew leap and spin to the tsungi horn and koto he knows his uncle had a hand in setting up on the lower deck. Thirteen strings stretching across half a tube of ornate wood, each one plucked by Lily with delicate, nail-tipped fingers. Zuko's experience with the instrument from childhood music lessons elicited only a tragic, mournful songs. Lily's fingers pluck a warm, summer solstice balled from the zither. One he recognises - a swooping melody of a man finding his bride in a field of gold.

Boastful flips and Caldera tumblers raise the cheers all the way to where Katara and Zuko watch, almost drowning out the lively, joyful music.

Katara's practically tumbling over the rail, watching the evening roll in across his ship deck. "Firebenders dance?"

Zuko snorts. "Dance belongs to my people, so to speak. The Fire Nation history is made in festivals, ribbon dances, Agni Kai's, painting-"

"Raids, war-mongering and ruining lives one tribe or monastery at a time," Katara finishes, raising an unimpressed eyebrow when he scowls at her. "You really dance?"

"Sort of… It's complicated." It's stupid, she'll say. Honestly, in her company, he's starting to see why she would think so. "We're a people of dancers, but it's discouraged in childhood. More like… forbidden. But not really. In my youth my tutors would say it's frivolous, meaningless, and a waste of energy to dance. So, I'd dance, and think I was rebelling."

Katara's laugh is a surprise to herself, throaty and rich. Harmonising perfectly with the raucous shouts below. It worms its way into his chest, seeking out a partner to laugh too.

"Really, I was celebrating a huge part of my culture, glamorizing it even more. All kids are told never to dance. All kids grow up believing Hazu of the Dancing Lights is the most romantic story in all the worlds." He may or may not have definitely tried to get Mai to sneak off to a performance of that during an extended holiday at Ember Island.

"Your elders trick you into believing dancing is illegal, only for you to grow up thinking you're all these rebels of movement?" Katara snorts.

"Tricked us into thinking it was the highest form of rebellion," Zuko emphasises, grateful to the encroaching gloom for covering the flush creeping up his neck.

"You poor thing," Katara croons unsympathetically.

"I know." She rolls her eyes at his smirk, his heartrate tripling as she also fights off a smile. "My mother always encouraged me to break those rules, even just for the pleasure of it. We'd sneak into her private garden and-"

He cuts himself off, pretending to focus on the dancing men and women below. He hunches in on himself when Katara leans closer.

"-and it's why I can fight so effectively, why most Firebenders can defeat anyone who tries to face them."

"Most anyone except fourteen-year-old boys."

He grumbles. "Fourteen-year-old boys who also happen to be the Avatar."

"Aang's an airbender and he can barely waterbend." She means to mock him, but Zuko files that little titbit of information away. "Show me."

"Show you?"

"Your dancing."

He snorts in a most unprincely fashion. "I'd rather show you my juggling."

"You juggle?" she asks incredulously.

"No."

"Spirits, Zuko, smile when you do that." Her blue eyes roll. In the same action she's waving a hand excitedly at him. "Show me how young firebending studs move for their fire ladies."

"You're no fire lady," he mutters, trying not to sound so bitter. Truth is, he's no stud. Can't even pass for unremarkable anymore. Calling him that is the easiest and cruellest way she can mock him. It's no accident he placed himself on her left and turns even more away from her.

"Fine, don't dance," she huffs, expertly feigning disappointment. "But you've already fought in front of me so you can't be all shy. Show me now, slower, how it transcribes."

He glances at her out of the corner of his good eye. She's got her arms crossed, staring him down. Challenging him. Resentment of the stud comment tries to claw its way into his heart. He knows how his scar looks to everyone, how it draws the eye. He's gotten good at avoiding the question askers, he can spot them from a mile away: Can he still see out of it? Does it hurt? Has he thought about wearing a mask? Katara's stud joke is a painful reminder of everyone seeing it before him. He wants to go back to his quarters, get under his blankets.

But he also wants to show her. Impress her.

Sighing, he pushes off the rail, stepping back so he's out of sight of the happy dancers on the below deck. He goes into the kata without preamble or introduction, starting off with his feet, finding his stance, moving upwards. Katara turns and leans back against it, elbows propping her up, watching the way he bends, side-steps, sweep of his arm which snaps back to protect his centre. His every move holds her complete attention.

"It's called the Snapping Willow. Decades old, almost a century. No two firebenders in a room will be able to counter it. No firebender under sixty can fight it." As he moves, speaks, Zuko's voice becomes his uncles in his own ears. "Never retreat backward. No attack opens when a man allows himself to be pushed. Use their force to create new angles. Flow around him."

"Sounds a lot like airbending," Katara muses.

Zuko chuckles as he executes the Root Cutter Stance, still fresh in his mind from when he used it to defeat Zhao. "No airbender can fight like this." Flows into the Falling Leaf manoeuvre next, slashing through the air in a downward motion which would give the corkscrew impression with his flames swirling around him.

"The Snapping Willow," Katara breathes.

"It's fluid, like a spring breeze in defence, then lashing and horrible as the branches of a willow switch snapping back." He ends his set in the Winter's Calm stance, right arm upright and away from his body where his arm would act as the torch while one foot plants forwards, knees bent.

"How do you know it?" Katara's voice breaks through the trance his kata exercises always put him in. He blinks a few times, looking at her over his shoulder. "No two firebenders in a room will be able to counter it. No firebender under sixty can fight it. That's what you said, but you're barely twenty."

He's actually approaching twenty-one. "It was developed by a young master firebender of my grandfathers time. You can't say the name Sunblood in the Fire Nation without stopping all conversation in the room. Two of his pupils were my father and his older brother."

Katara's brow furrows, then her blue eyes widen, and she almost launches over the rail in her haste to look over the edge. "Iroh?"

"How do you think I learned it? Sunblood was gone long before my introduction to the Burning Place." He rubs the back of his neck when he sees her face. Right, brutality is not impressive to her. "I guess I don't really know it. More like a watered-down version, I suppose."

"Don't sleep on water. A willow can't grow without it." She's teasing and completely serious, wrapped in the simple, honest maxim. Stepping off the rail, she holds up her arms in a basic fighter's stance. "Show me."

He snorts. "No way. No two firebenders in a room know this style. I'm not dulling my edge because you're bored."

"Like I'm ever going to willingly be in a room with two firebenders, let alone one." She tilts her chin up and to the side, effortlessly indifferent. "If I could have it my way, I'd be on the back of a fluffy bison, far from here, but we have to work with what we have."

He's used to pretending she only says things like that because, well, what else is she going to say to her enemy? He's not so practiced at pretending a new sting doesn't rear its ugly head every time she says things like that. "Stick to your watertribe expressions of movement."

With a glare she decides she's bored with him and goes back to watching the dancers on the below deck.


"The Snapping Willow fights reactively." Katara's piece moves confidently across the board, setting up behind his Raging Dragon manoeuvre.

"It does," Zuko murmurs, not really paying attention as he focuses on the board.

In the corner, Lily tends their tea and pretends not to listen. Zuko isn't sure who on the ship she'd inform to, and it's not like he and Katara talk about anything interesting. And, maybe, it's because he doesn't like the idea of having an audience to his Pai Sho skills that he considers his next mov more carefully.

He hasn't figured out what play Katara's setting up, her pieces moving between her favourite gambit, the Iris, and the less familiar Winter Shadow. It's a high risk, high reward strategy; while she's delaying her chance to set her feet and attack, whichever she chooses decides how he will push.

Katara keeps talking. "It's not about force, but about movement and opposing an opponent's momentum."

"Using it against them." Non-committal answers are the easiest to give as he studies his next move.

"How?" It's still not her turn but she studies the board too.

"How? How to use an opponent's force against them?" She can't learn the Willow through theory alone and talking about the study of the style and focusing on the board is proving a bit of a challenge. "You… move, you know. Don't let them push you backwards, but don't force your way into them either. Nobody wins like that, butting heads like two Rhinobisons's competing for the same mate."

He considers a place on the board but puts his piece back where it was. "I used to watch council meetings Uncle would sit for Grandfather and always, without fail, Commander Tuzon would rise to any challenge my Uncle made to his authority. It was like he was looking for the fight. As you can imagine, whenever someone gave it to him, nothing would get done. Uncle would let him bluster, shout, bang his fists, all the while finding the best way to move around him, never matching his force but redirecting it, until he felt like he'd been met, not realising my Uncle hadn't exchanged a single blow."

Katara makes an acknowledging noise as he decides to release his Dragon flame to eliminate the threat coming in from behind. Without looking, she reaches beside her leg for her cup of tea. Lavender today, per her request, and he's not going to dissuade a Katara reaching for calm.

"You're good at the Willow." Lily kneels and refills her cup. Katara thanks her with a smile, insisting she pour one for herself.

"You can thank his Uncle for that." Lily would never dare speak before being properly addressed if they were in the Fire Nation Courts. Obviously, Katara barely exudes half the formal pressures of courtly life as she reclines against her pillows to sip her tea, waiting for Lily to continue.

"A Willow is as flexible in nature as in name, Mistress Katara." He doesn't miss Katara's wince at the title. If Lily caught it as well, decades of service override the order to ignore the title. "It survives in almost all climates because it needs all of them to survive. The Earth provides its home. The Wind provides forces so its structure can grow, the way bones and muscles need movement to grow. The Water provides it with food. The Sun provides it with life."

Zuko barely pays their exchange any attention, using Lily's ramblings to decide his next move. "You've barely seen me put the Willow into practice."

Katara looks at him across the table. "Did you put it into practice on Kyoshi Island?"

His cheeks burn shamefully. "That was not my proudest moment. Have… have you heard anything from them- the villagers?"

"Sokka writes Suki whenever we stop anywhere long enough for him to find a pen." She smirks under her lashes up at him. "There were no casualties, a few minor burns thanks to Aang being able to get ahead of your invasion and evacuate most of the civilians."

"I knew you had something to do with that!"

"Who, me?" she blinks rapid and innocently up at him, blue eyes glittering evilly.

Lily can't see her face, but she laughs, even when Zuko glowers at her. But when she raises a challenging eyebrow at him, he blushes and looks back at the board. Reprimanding someone the same age as his uncle, even if her life is one of obedience and service, feels overtly gratuitous. Like something Azula would do. And even though she's never met her, he'd hate for Katara to make that assumption too.

"Yes, you, Waterbender." He pours his frustration into the board, intensifying his Dragon's flame. "I only needed to use it when Sokka and those other two ganged up on me. And… that might or might not have been what set the porch on fire." He focuses on his turn without really focusing. "Thank you. I didn't plan to invade and things… got away from me quickly. I'm glad no one was hurt."

Katara's eyes flick between him and the board. He feels the scorn building, grabbing at his chest, trying to pull his guts up into his throat. He didn't mean to hurt the people of Kyoshi. She must know that. He'd kept his word when he left her village and the people of her tribe alone with the Avatar. Any Firebending officer under Zhao would have taken the Avatar and burned that village to ashes. They already tried once.

"You didn't hurt anyone." He looks up sharply, but Katara once again focuses on the board. Maybe a little too hard considering it's not her turn. "Earth Kingdom villages are pretty sturdy. It's practically impossible to move them by force. You waste less energy moving around them."

She favours him with a rare, genuine smile. He feels her compliment in it, knowing how quick and sharp she can be with her words. But what did he do to deserve it?

Her winter stance explodes into a snowstorm, consuming the two thirds of the board he left undefended, before he can figure it out.

"Good effort but save yours a little better next time." She smirks at his bewilderment as she resets the board.


"Uncle! It's time to leave!" Zuko stomps through the Earth Kingdom forest close to where his ship made port. The detour, while necessary for supply replenishment, clearly was not interesting enough to keep his Uncle from wandering off. He was sure he came through this way. "Where are you? Uncle Iroh?"

"Over here!"

Zuko spies his uncle's clothes first, folded up on a rock, and slows his approach to the hot spring his uncle lounges in to one with a lot more caution. "Uncle? We need to move on, which will be pretty hard to do without your clothes. Can you put them on so we can get back to the ship?"

Arms spread across the rock pool, Uncle's grey eyebrow rises as he regards him. "So eager to leave my company. Or, perhaps, join another's?"

Zuko pretends it's the swampy heat of his uncle's spring turning his cheeks pink. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You look tired, Prince Zuko. Why don't you join me in these hot springs?" Uncle leans further into his warm pool. "In fact, why don't you bring the lovely Katara? You could both soak away your troubles."

"My troubles can't be soaked away," Zuko snaps, but it comes out more of a squeak.

"And the lady Katara? I know you won't let her go without putting on those awful cuffs, but you should take your teacher's advice and relax a little. The temperature's just right. I heated it myself." Steam shoots out his nose to bring more boiling bubbles to the surface of the water. "If you're worried about the situation being improper, have her be escorted by Lily. I'm sure she and I can be adequate chaperones."

"Enough!" Zuko can't concentrate with the images his uncle forces into his head. Steam and Katara make all too an alluring pair. "We need to leave. Get out of the water!"

"Very well," Iroh grunts with a sigh, standing from the water without preamble.

"Ugh!" Zuko cries, covering his eyes. "On second thought, why don't you take another few minutes? But be back at the ship in a half-hour or I'm leaving without you!"

A hearty splash gives way to his uncle's laughter. "Give Katara my regards when you see her!"


"Little late today, Sunshine," Katara chortles as he stalks in, her eyebrows raising when she notices he's still in his armour. He dons it whenever he leaves the ship; more for his own protection than spreading the Fire Nation's might to the rest of the kingdoms. But if the people see him as powerful, maybe they'll embrace the rule of the Fire Nation better and embrace a piece of that power for themselves.

At least she's dropped the mocking lilt to his unofficial title. She somehow makes Sunshine sound rather dashing – If he cared.

She cocks her head as he works on the buckle beneath his collarbone, stripping the armoured shoulder plates off over his head. They go on the floor by the door, his chest plate following. "Something wrong?"

His leg guards remain half-buckled. "No." He can lie to her about as well as he can waterbend. Sighing, he tromps over to the Pai Sho board. "Uncle's taking forever to get back on the ship. He's found himself some stinking pound to sit in and make steam bubbles, meanwhile the Avatar's trail is going cold."

Even as he rants, he knows he'll get no sympathy from her. He sets to rubbing at the tension headache growing between his eyes.

"So, you're stuck in this metal box with nothing but time and two thumbs to twiddle?" The mocking lilt rears its baby-voiced head. "Poor thing, what's that like?"

"Not in the mood, waterbender," he grumbles, thumb resting over his eye.

Her laughter peters out. "I'm not going to simper poor babies over you struggling to capture my friend. You're already one up." Dusky fingers tap the table-top. "And if you bore Aang as much as you're boring me right now, you won't have to chain him up on the trip back to the Fire Nation. Just sink deeper into your brooding pity party and he'll be comatose the whole way."

Blue eyes widen when a weak chuckle escapes him. "Wow, you really must be giving up if I'm getting away with that."

"Only you can." Tipping his head against the wall, he peeks at her through one slitted eye. "But only because I haven't beaten you enough in Pai Sho yet to be considered the better player."

Her smirk is playful and unnaturally confident. "Please, I trounce you."

She absolutely did last time, but he'd just missed a chance to corner the Avatar in Omashu and was still fuming. Naturally, losing to her hadn't improved his mood much. But she stuck it out, tolerated his attitude. True, she had no choice. But after she won she didn't gloat, only played at stacking the pieces until he calmed down, then used them and the slick board to show him how to play a smaller version of the Avatar's game, airball, using their hands as the goals and shooting the pieces with their thumbs. She didn't need to simulate blustering wind noises with her mouth with every shot, but they made her laugh even when she missed, and him smile when he thought about it later.

No one just sits with him. No one lets his thoughts play themselves out instead of trying to change them. She can distract him when she sees them trying to overwhelm him.

She's your captive. She has no choice but to sit in this room. If things were how she wanted them, she wouldn't even be here.

"You don't want to join my pity party?" he mumbles, kneading his temples. "I could order the cook to make us cake."

"Some party. Pass, no thanks. I'd rather beat myself over the head with the Pai Sho board until I pass out."

He flicks the flimsy wooden board. Wooden pieces skip and skitter. "You'll be here a while."

"Nothing new there."

He buries his wince in his head massage. "Nope. Nothing new."

He can feel her watching him. "You know your head wouldn't hurt so much if your hair wasn't always in that pony-tail."

"Not gonna happen," Zuko mutters. The shame behind the particular Fire Nation custom when it comes to hair, or his chosen style, may have been something he purposefully omitted from their culture lessons, but he knows. And he knows he can't face how she'd react if she did.

"Fine." She begins playing with the Pai Sho pieces, glancing up at him as she builds them into stacks. "Drink some water, take a nap or something."

"I don't nap."

"You did before."

By accident, he remembers, and shivers at the idea of being asleep in front of someone. So vulnerable, begging to be taken advantage of. Except she didn't. Except she was awake while he wasn't and let him sleep.

"It might make you feel better," she fills the silence as she fiddles with the Pai Sho pieces.

"Why do you care?"

Startled, her fingers freeze over the pieces, then drops the one she's holding. Her quick face shows he's in for it now before her eyes narrow. "I'm not fighting with you, Zuko. You're annoyed that your uncle wants to take some time to relax and I'm not going to agree he's a monster for it."

"My uncle is not a monster."

"That's what I'm saying to you." She cocks her head curiously at him. "Have you ever considered that everything out of my mouth isn't some backhanded attack or underhanded way to insult you?"

"Why would anyone say anything but to do that?"

"Wow." She blinks at him. "I'm going to chock that up to being raised in a court and, most likely, a combination of bad parenting and underaged drinking."

"How else do you think I got through the day?" His heart flutters when her laughter eclipses the reflexive bitter twang at the mention of his parents. "I wasn't only raised at court, by the way. I was… sent on my mission when I was thirteen and haven't been back since."

"Thirteen?" Her dark eyebrows scrunch together. "That's kind of young to be sent away from home."

He shrugs. "Destinies can't wait for me to have a couple birthdays."

She doesn't snort like he expects her to, and he shifts under her cool, curious gaze. "You must have met a lot of people, seen a lot of things, as you searched for Aang. Did you talk to any of them?"

He doesn't see what that question has to do with anything, but he shrugs anyway. "Of course. I had to look for leads and follow up on them. Why?"

"Because most people I've talked to hate the Fire Nation more than anything."

"Charming."

She's too focused for his liking. Her eyes search his face. "One boy I knew hated you so much he flooded an entire village just to root out a few soldiers stationed there," she carries on like she never heard him.

"What? How could he be so strategically stupid?" People died because a boy had his feelings hurt and couldn't get a grip? "Fire Nation soldiers are prideful idiots. I can guarantee you'll see more blood than wine from a spilled chalice at the courts. Tell him next time to just openly challenge them and let their honour think he'll show up alone to a duel and save some civilian lives next time."

"No one died. Sokka got the villagers out before the dam was blown. But it sounds like if you were there things wouldn't have gone that far."

She regards his cold rage with collected measure. "Why are you nothing like them?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're not like any Fire Nation man I've ever met, Zuko. Did you hear what you just said? Fire Nation soldier's following their honour? They don't have any. I've watched men of your country rob shop owners of their wages and call it taxes. I've seen cruelty you can't imagine because they're bored at their Earth Kingdom village stations. And in the fight to stop that cruelty I watched someone I thought I could… respect use civilian lives as currency because it justified his hate."

"What's your point?" Zuko snaps. Those focused, blue eyes are starting to unnerve him.

"Why do you keep chasing Aang around the world when your influence would be so much better put to use back in the Fire Nation? You give a shit, which is already so much more than I can say for your dad's way of ruling."

Zuko's nerves stop quaking, steely determination not to cower at just His mention overpowering his resolve. "Don't talk about my father."

"Why, because it disrespects his honour? Can he have honour with how he rules? Can your dad tell me stories of festival nights at the Caldera and not make me think of atrocities and butchery, but of how cool it would be to try fire flakes or spiced wine?"

She moves around the table to kneel next to him. "Make me understand how a father can banish his son for over half a decade, continue to oppress people all across the world, and you can think that's the same wish you have for the Fire Nation to share its wealth?"

She's almost begging him to hear her. He does, and seethes at her presumptuousness, at the idea she could have the faintest clue what she's talking about, and his own traitorous impulse to explain it to her.

She wouldn't understand it, understand him, or want to know how. No one does.

"You care, Zuko, about civilian lives." She's begging him, to do what, he can't comprehend. Look at her? Hear what she's saying? "You care about the locals, the economy, the standard of living. Not just for the nobles but for everyone. You care about the prosperity of the Fire Nation. All of the Fire Nation. And before you can be someone I… respect, I need to understand how it's the same."

But when she goes to touch his hand, he snatches it away, glaring at her. She has to scramble back when he jumps to his feet. "What does a Southern Watertribe peasant know of ruling an entire country? What does some girl know about a father's relationship with his son? Your own brother couldn't tell you that, so you have to demand it from me? You know what caring about how my father conducts his rule got me?"

Her wide blue eyes search his face. "I think I have an idea."

"I don't think you do." He sneers down at her, feels it contort his already hideous face. "And don't think you can understand anything about what goes on in the Fire Nation. If we're both lucky you'll never have to find out."

Rage simmers between them, his hot and ready to burn them both down. Hers cold, the kind that chills the blood and reminds him just what they are to each other.

"I've wasted too much time here. I need to collect my uncle."

A bitter lilt follows him out, "Sorry I wasted your time, Sunshine."


Please please please let me know your thoughts and feedback because I would love to know if I'm doing a good job! It only takes a second and it would be greatly appreciated! Reading all your wonderful comments keeps me writing as I plough on for Book Two.

Speaking of! I have reached Zuko alone, and I'm so stumped, lol. Can we all agree it's a perfect episode? It's soooo good XD

Kudos always welcome, likes, dislikes, comments and complaints. Let me know what you guys think because I love reading them and finding out about you guys!