Note: Just to let everyone know, that has reviewed my story, thank you for all your support and criticism! Like I said before I can't become a good writer with only compliments so if you have to be brutal then be brutal it's all straight. Anyways my friend taught me how to say, who cut the cheese, in French:

Qui ala coup le pramage?

I just thought I'd share that with you.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Avatar: Last Airbender characters or the story line.

Chapter Three

"Who's there? Show yourself!" he demanded engulfing his hands in scarlet flames.

We know who you are, Zuko, and we know who she is to, the voice giggled.

"What about the water wench?" the flames inched up his arm at the mention of the girl and himself, "How do you know us?"

The voice sounded closer now, We know your search is futile, he will never accept you.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" The fire around his hands and arms strengthened.

But we do, oh yes we do. We know that she will never be your friend as much as your father will never love you.

He quickened his pace; he had to get out of there.

We know you will be alone like us, forever.

He broke out into a run, his fire now vanishing in panic.

The voice continued to follow him all the while chanting: You'll be alone like us.

Then it stopped, he found himself in the middle of a small clearing in the rather chatty forest. It had a small, clear stream that emptied into an even clearer pool behind an old oak tree. He could see tiny silver fish swimming gracefully in it; the wind blew gently against the tall glossy grass as a mother would ruffle her child's hair.

"This is a good campsite," he mumbled heading back toward the beach for the girl.

Kicking the sand up as he walked toward her, he said, "Hey girl, get up."

Her eyes narrowed at the sight of him, "Why?"

"I found a better campsite," he replied keeping a cold, distant tone.

"Oh really, where?" she stood up, her legs trembling from weakness.

"Why wont you let me help you?!" he was frustrated with her and could no longer hide it, "If I was going to hurt you I would have done so already while you were sleeping!"

Her eyes shifted to the ground, she mumbled something inaudible while rubbing her rib cage lightly.

"What?" he walked closer to her.

"My name is Katara," she yelled at him then added, "Don't we need to gather supplies?"

He was taken back by her willingness to corporate with him as of the moment.

"What?!" she snapped at him because he was staring at her.

"You don't need to get supplies with your injuries you'll only make them worse."

"I'm not going to let you do all the work yourself."

"Then heal yourself," he recalled, "When we were in the catacombs of Ba Sing Se you said you had a healing ability."

She flinched at the mention of Ba Sing Se, "It doesn't work like that."

"How does it work then?" he cocked his head to the side in curiosity, forgetting he wasn't suppose to allow her to get close to him.

"I can only heal others and not myself; it has something to do with being selfless," she paused, "Um, how'd, how'd you get your scar?"

He was surprised by her question at first, but then in a distant tone said, "Come on we need to make camp before dusk."

"Alright lead the way."

He nodded his head, and then held out his arm to her, his eyes silently offering to help. She shook her head also silently replying. They walked into the forest with him in lead and Katara as the rear, their steps echoed for a few minutes but then the voice came back to him.

So your back fire prince? The voice required it's laughter like evil.

"Shut up," he answered in a low growl, quickening his pace forgetting Katara was behind him.

"Zuko!" she yelled struggling to keep up, "Wait!"

He stopped, turning around to see her at least ten feet off, "Hurry up," he hissed.

"I'm trying!" she snapped at him regaining her distrusting tone again.

She does not want to be with you, join us and we will be with you, but she wants to be with him.

"Shut up!" he yelled, "Shut the hell up!"

The fire reappeared around his hands, Katara's voice came from behind him, "Zuko what are you doing? What's going on?"

"You don't hear it?" he asked angrily the frustration building up inside him.

"What?" she didn't hide her skepticism.

She thinks your crazy because you are talking to us; she will leave you and you will be alone.

"Stop talking to me!" he yelled as he began to walk again.

"FINE!" she yelled at him, "I was only trying to help!"

She hates you.

"No, not you! You don't hear the voice?" he whirled around to look in her eyes to see if she was mocking him.

"What voice?! I don't hear anything!"

They reached the clearing and once more the voice stopped; he shook his head then whispered, "Never mind."

"Whatever," she hissed, shoving passed him then exclaimed, "Oh, its so beautiful."

"Yeah," he said, "I'll be back later."

She didn't answer him as he reentered the forest, but instead, walked to the clear glass pool of water. He didn't even bother to walk this time but ran. He could hear the voice's murmurs, but he was going so fast that he couldn't comprehend them. When he reached the beach he set off to work searching for shells they could use for bowls along with various other necessities like food.

By the time he had returned to their new campsite it was nearly dusk. He dropped their supplies onto the ground which he had been carrying on his back using his shirt as a bag. Katara was no where to be seen he began to panic; his voice echoed as he yelled, "Katara, where are you?"

"Why are you yelling?" he heard her voice snap from behind the old oak tree.

He went behind it to see her sitting on the bank with a pile of fish flopping next to her, she leaned over the water splashing it with her hands, "Um…where's your…uh…shirt?"

"I had to use it to carry the supplies in," he informed her catching a fish that was about to flop into her abandon right boot.

"Thanks," she said to him now focusing on the water and not the fact that his upper half was currently naked from any stitch of cloth.

"I think that's enough," he told her impressed by her catch.

"I kind of feel sorry for them," she mumbled standing up.

That's the first time she has spoken to me with anger or hate, he noted to himself getting up grabbing two of the fish she had caught while she grabbed two more.