Aang and Toph walked amiably along the small canyon, the blind earth bender absently kicking a small boulder ahead of her the way any other person might kick a pebble.

"So," began Aang casually, "did you really want to practice some more or…?"

"Nah," Toph replied, hurling the rock forward several yards with a gentle nudge of her toe. "I just figured Iroh might want some time alone with his nephew. Zuko seems to have a lot on his mind lately."

"Yeah," Aang concurred. "And I don't think Katara is helping much," he added unhappily. "She seems so…I don't know…stand-offish when he's around. I think it's starting to get to him. I know it's bothering me," he muttered under his breath.

"Aw, she's probably just still moping because Zuko went to the Spirit World with you and she didn't," Toph said indifferently.

"You think so?" he asked doubtfully.

"What else would it be?" she shrugged as she casually kicked the rock again. "She didn't seem to have a problem before that."

"I guess," he admitted. "So if that's the case then, what should I do about it?"

"Nothing," she said simply.

"What do you mean? I have to do something."

"No. You don't," Toph stated firmly, coming to a standstill as she approached her rock and pivoting toward him slightly. "Look, just because you're the Avatar doesn't mean it's your job to fix every little thing," she said reasonably then turned back to her stone and gave it another careless kick before moving forward again. "Katara is going to have to get over this…whatever ever it is, and learn to deal with Zuko on her own. In the meantime, the best thing to do is stay out of it."

"But-"

"No 'buts'," she insisted, once again stopping, "This is no different from when I came along. She had trouble adjusting to me too."

At this, Aang grinned and pointed out wryly, "Actually, I think you had a hard time adjusting to each other."

"Whatever," said Toph with a dismissive wave as she resumed walking, "the point is, you just have to let them work it out. So long as they aren't at each other's throats, there's nothing to worry about." The boulder shot forward again.

"I suppose you're right," he finally agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

"Of course I'm right," she quipped, "I'm your teacher."

Aang looked at Toph and grinned in spite of himself. But his smile faded as he observed her misty eyes still staring straight ahead, and he remembered that there was no way she could see his expression. Or could she?

"Hey, Toph?" he started shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah, Aang?"

"Can you…'see' when someone is smiling at you?" he asked awkwardly, "with your earth bending, I mean?"

"No," she answered slowly, giving the rock another kick, "but sometimes…I can feel it."

It took a moment for the significance of this admission to sink in, but when it did, Aang beamed brightly at her. And she proved her statement when she tilted her head in his direction and smirked conspiratorially in return.

The tension back at the camp was unbearably thick, and a suffocating silence lingered over the group during dinner. Iroh had tried once or twice to start a conversation, saying how delicious the noodles were and how kind it was that the Earth King had ensured such generous provisions, but his attempts received only half-hearted nods and mumbled agreements.

Suddenly, the stillness was broken by an abrupt 'slurping' sound as Aang miscalculated the amount of long, wet strands he had gathered with his chopsticks and had to suck them in quickly before they fell. He blushed slightly at having caused the rude interruption, but then Sokka snickered and produced his own energetic inhalation of food. The two boys looked at each other, oblivious of Katara's annoyed glare, and an impromptu competition was suddenly on.

Grinning and giggling, they began taking turns making the horrendous noise, only to have Toph overshadow their attempts with her own loud contribution to the cacophony. Aang and Sokka both glanced at her in surprise before looking at each other in silent agreement. It was a declaration of war: the two of them against Toph.

As the three went about their rounds, and Toph began losing ground against her two opponents, the game was unexpectedly halted by the sudden entry of the Dragon of the West into the fray. After a brief instant of shock, the four took a moment for realignment, where brows knitted, eyes shifted, and jaws were set. And with that, the battle started in earnest. All four were now desperately trying to outdo each other in the length and volume of their sloppy noodle sucking.

Meanwhile, Katara was quickly becoming livid. Each successive 'slurp' caused her right eye to twitch, and her shoulders steadily tensed up with the rising chorus. She was gripping her stoneware bowl so tightly her knuckles were starting to turn white.

Zuko was certain that at any moment she was going to splinter her chopsticks in the quickly balling fist of her hand. In all honesty, the mealtime mayhem was getting on his nerves as well, but he was pretty sure that Katara would snap before he did. He was right.

After a particularly long and disgusting slurp from Toph, Katara finally slammed her bowl down onto the ground in front of her so forcefully that Zuko was amazed it didn't crack. Her eyes flashed dangerously as she whipped her head around to address the uncouth quartet.

"Is all that slurping really necessary?" she seethed.

Iroh and Aang just stared at her guiltily with noodles hanging from their puckered lips. Sokka blinked twice and then, without taking his eyes off his sister, sucked in the mouthful of noodles dangling down his chin.

"Sllllluuuurrp!"

"That's IT!" she screeched as she sprang to her feet, sputtering in indignation. "I refuse to eat with a bunch of…unmannered…uncivilized…moo-sows!" And with that, she stormed away from the camp down a side ravine.

The four of them sat quietly for a few heartbeats, three of them looking properly abashed, and then Toph calmly indulged in another hearty slurp. Giggling shamelessly, the boys then shrugged and happily resumed their unsophisticated contest.

Zuko shook his head in revolted disbelief, and when he noticed that Katara's food was still sitting on the ground, he needed no further excuse to leave. Without a word, he reached over, picked up the bowl, and headed after her.

Katara walked until she could only barely hear the sound of the others sucking down their noodles, muttering and complaining under her breath the entire way. When she felt she was a reasonable distance from them, she stopped and looked down at her hands in bewilderment. In one, she held her chopsticks, but in the other…

"You forgot your food," said Zuko quietly from behind her.

She let out a short breath of annoyance and embarrassment, and glanced over her shoulder. There stood Zuko with a bowl in each hand, holding hers out to her with his eyes cast down almost apologetically. Turning, she begrudgingly took the food from him and sat down on a nearby boulder.

"Thanks," she mumbled, poking at her noodles with her chopsticks. "You didn't have to do that."

"It got me away from the noise," he replied impassively. As a faint slurp echoed down the canyon, he added dryly, "almost."

Zuko waited uneasily for a moment, then turned to go back to the others, but his step faltered a bit when a resounding belch reverberated through the ravine.

"Great," Katara muttered sarcastically, "they've gone from slurping to burping."

She looked up from her dinner and noticed the prince's grimace; he obviously was not looking forward to going back to the others with their obnoxious eating habits.

"Um, why don't you have a seat," she offered awkwardly, "it's not as noisy here…and well," she hesitated, stumbling over what to say that wouldn't sound foolish. "I guess I wouldn't mind some company," she finished lamely.

He regarded her suggestion thoughtfully for a moment, looking down the canyon toward the camp, then back at her, trying to determine which was worse: bad manners or uncomfortable silence.

Katara's presence always unsettled him, filling him with a tangle of guilt, shame, and uncertainty. But now, thinking back to their confrontation earlier that day, and remembering his uncle's comment afterward, he wondered if perhaps he had merely been reading more into her recent behavior than was really there.

Wordlessly, he sat down on a fallen log across from the water bender, a chasm far wider and deeper than the one they sat in yawning between them.

Aang dug through the last of the fruit taken from the Air Temple. They were all trying to decide what they wanted for dessert.

"Okay, we've got two papayas, an apple, and three peaches left," he announced.

"Katara hates papaya," Sokka stated, "so hand me one of those."

"I'll take the other one," offered Iroh, "Zuko doesn't care for them either."

Aang tossed the two papayas up in front of him and shot them over to Iroh and Sokka on a gust of air.

"I'll take the apple!" called Toph, lifting her hand up to receive the fruit from Aang.

He air bent the fruit into her waiting hand, and then he took a peach for himself before settling down on Appa's side.

"We should eat noodles more often," Toph mused around a mouthful of apple. "That was kinda fun."

Iroh chuckled with embarrassment. "I think if I did that again, my nephew might disown me," he admitted.

"Yeah," agreed Sokka sheepishly, "I'm sure I'll get an earful from Katara later." He grinned impishly then added, "But it was worth it."

"Speaking of Zuko and Katara…do you think they're okay over there?" asked Aang, anxiously peering down the ravine, but the canyon twisted around, blocking them from view.

"They're fine," reassured Toph lazily, "just sitting there eating, and probably ignoring each other."

"What are we going to do about those two anyway?" wondered Sokka aloud. Aang glanced over at Toph, whose face remained emotionless, then back to Sokka.

"There's nothing we can do," he said finally, "they just need to work things out for themselves."

Cricket chirps echoed through the dimly lit ravine, punctuated occasionally by the clink of chopsticks against stoneware. Other than those slight sounds, the canyon was quiet. Even the unruly ruckus coming from the main camp had died down and the sounds of slurping and belching no longer bounced off the steep rocky walls.

Zuko was glad for the lack of noise, but the silence was wearing on Katara. Several times, she had stolen a glance at the young man sitting across from her, opening her mouth to speak and then closing it as she changed her mind. After one such false start, Zuko frowned.

"If you have something to say, just say it," he said calmly, keeping his eyes focused on his bowl.

Her head snapped up in surprise at the realization that he had noticed her aborted attempts at conversation. Daring a look at the banished prince, she caught a brief glimpse of his eyes on her before they flicked back down to his food.

"Oh…well," she stuttered, "I was just…well I wanted," her shoulders sagged at her inability to get the words out of her mouth. Finally, she blurted out, "I'm sorry about what happened earlier, I had no right to say that and…I…" Her voice trailed off in frustration and she glowered at the bowl in her hand.

Zuko stared in mild surprise at her sudden apology, but seeing her obvious discomfort, and suddenly feeling awkward himself, he turned his attention back to his food.

"Forget about it," he murmured politely, "it's not important."

"I know we've never been on the best of terms," she said timidly, "but, that doesn't mean we can't work together and get along. Maybe we can just start over," she suggested with a shrug before beginning to ramble. "I mean, how hard can it be to just put the past behind us and go on from here? I'm willing to try if-"

She stopped short as she noticed he wasn't even looking at her. Instead, he seemed to be peering down the shadowy canyon leading back toward the camp, his eyebrow furrowed in thought.

"Are you even listening to me?" she asked shortly.

"I thought I heard something," he said distractedly.

"I don't hear anything."

"Neither do I," replied Zuko grimly, turning back to her, "In fact, it's completely quiet."

For the first time, Katara noticed the ominous absence of the crickets chirping, and a sense of dread began to settle over her. She looked over at Zuko anxiously as he set his bowl down and rose to his feet in a single fluid motion. Without waiting for her response, he headed off down the ravine. Not wanting to be left behind, she scooped up his bowl, stacked it in hers, and followed.

She almost collided with him when he stopped abruptly just before entering the camp. It was completely empty, not even the fire remained. They exchanged alarmed glances, wandering around the empty campsite in confusion. It was as if the others had never even been there.

"Where are they?" she gasped.

"I don't know," he replied, trying to keep the panic from his voice.

A low rumbling was the only warning they had before being plunged into darkness, and the echo of their abruptly cut off screams was all that remained in the canyon.

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