"It comes from everything," Toph said with an unusual note of tenderness in her voice, the milky white under her lashes warm and settled. "Everything breathes, almost."

"You want to write stories or poetry, Toph?" Aang asked curiously, sipping his tea while he listened to her try to put her Earth bending in words. Since she wasn't able to write herself—not that she'd gone out of her way to find someone to teach her how—she was making someone else do it for her. Someone else meaning Haru. He was the easiest to boss around.

His agreement wouldn't have been so hard to obtain anyway, even if she hadn't told him he "sounded the smartest" when he talked. In the small instances her hard outer shell gave way to reveal some of the softer, more spiritual girl underneath, those were the times he didn't mind listening to what she had to say.

"It ain't poetry," she insisted with a sneer. "Anything'd sound poetic to a guy who spends all his time sitting around meditating."

Aang pouted. "I bet you could write poetry. What you're saying is insightful. You're so in tune with nature and your surroundings, I bet anything you wrote would be an interesting read."

With a sunny smile she had no way of seeing, he got up and went over to bug Sokka while he sketched Suki, sitting by a window and getting irritated with his instructions on how to tilt her head.

"Have you thought about it?" Haru spoke suddenly, the heavy sigh that left Toph's lips moving her facials to something thoughtful instead of defensive. "Having something published?"

"Like anyone would read something I came up with," she snorted. "I'm doing this for me. I can't expect you to sit there and listen to me ramble for more time than I've got you for."

"I'm not going anywhere," he shrugged casually, knowing she couldn't see but not really knowing how else to react to his own open ended offer. She looked in his general direction, a bit of shock lifting her eyebrows.

He cleared his throat, "What I'm saying is I'll write anything you like, since I don't mind listening."

She blushed, which made him sweat a little near the neck line. Maybe he'd said that in a strange way...

She smiled and kicked back onto her pillows. "What a good boy. I guess in that case, I could keep you as my personal assistant." She whipped a pointer finger at him. "So listen up. We're gonna write the greatest piece on Earth bending anyone will ever feel like reading. I'll do the talkin', you do the…uh…pencil stuff. Stuff with your eyes. And your ears. You gotta use your ears…"

He let her ramble, smirking and shaking his head good naturedly. And eventually, she talked herself straight into a nap. Through her snores, he recorded the last of the things she'd said with a smile on his face.

This is nice…

She kicked a leg out and hit his desk, ink spilling over the page. He stared at it, then at her, then at the black spilling into his lap.

This piece—and any 'peace' he figured he might seek while in her company—would be worked for, apparently.