They had run for a year. During the spring and summer months, they moved frequently from village to village. It seemed like any time they stopped for more than a few days, there came a notice that the Fire Nation was raiding close by. While they were probably not looking for Katara, at least not each time, it was still enough to push them onward. Their plan had been to get as far into the interior as possible. Anytime they tried to head toward the pole, however, something stopped them. A pathway had melted more than expected in the summer, or the only available team of dogs were too ill to pull their sled, and more than once they had been stymied by moving Fire Nation raiders.

When the sun started its descent toward winter, the family found themselves back on the coastline, but more north than they had ever been. The village even had a small farm scratched out and other woolly mammals that chewed the rough grass that grew on the tundra.

As with all of the other villages, this one accepted them readily. They were all one tribe after all, no matter how far away they each had lived. They shared a hut with a widower and his son, two hard eyed men with fingers leathered and split by the tanning they did. As was their custom, everyone was hospitable and they each had their own skin and shared a lice free mattress between the four of them. Katara had found comfort curled against her father's back as Hakoda took in deep swirling breaths in his sleep.

They had only been there for three nights before the chief pulled them into his hut.

"I think you should go." Cheif Malitut said as his wife set out the plates for dinner. Katara felt that sour knot begin to form in her stomach, as it always did when they spoke of leaving a village.

"Is that best? With the dark months coming, the ice shelf will grow larger and the Fire Nation raids will lessen." Hakoda said in reply.

"But they will still come and if they arrive in the middle of the dark season, you will have nowhere to run." Malitut said.

"We have nowhere to go now." Hakoda stated and Katara pushed at the meat on her plate.

"Brother, I do not intend to send you to the wilds. You are going on a boat." Malitut said and Katara glanced over at her brother. Sokka stared back at her with wide eyes.

"A boat to where?" Hakoda asked.

"Not far. The ruins of the Southern Air Temple are nearby. We send our livestock there to graze during the dark season. We intend to send you to graze in greener pastures as well." Malitut answered.

"Is it safe?" Kanna spoke up now and Malitut regarded her seriously.

"We've been fishing in the waters between the two places since before the Airbenders were wiped out. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if a Waterbender had been born there before the war." Malitut chuckled and scratched the side of his nose. He cleared his throat and sat straighter before he continued. "Ever since the raids started, we made a point to occupy those waters. During the summer, we still fish there. In the days before the dark season, we send out our youngest and oldest to attend to our livestock where it is warmer. They know we send people and animals, and they've gotten mostly lazy."

"Mostly?" Hakoda asked, suspicious. Malitut's wife sat down next to him and put a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"They will not allow men of a fighting age to cross. They don't want us to start an army." Malitut said. The sour knot finally tightened in Katara's gut and she winced in pain. Sokka reached over under the table and took her hand, squeezing it gently.

"So I will not be able to join my children?" Hakoda questioned, his voice thick and heavy.

"Your mother will be with them." Malitut countered. "And if you don't want to do this, I will not force you. You will always be welcome in my hut and we will defend your daughter till the last man."

Katara saw the pain in her father's eyes. He knew Malitut was being honest. In the perpetual ice and forever darkness of the winter months, all of the people in the south pole had learned that the only way to survive is to have the support of the tribe. Without it, they would all die. Whomever had exposed her in the beginning had paid a great price at the hands of the Fire Nation, there was no mistake about that.

And now, Katara saw plainly what that cost could entail. This entire village, even the hard eyed widow and his son, would fight a fully armed raiding party to let her escape. They would die before letting any child, let alone the last Waterbender, come to harm.

"I will not put your village in danger." Hakoda said softly, shaking his head.

"Brother, danger is the polar bear dog's teeth, the lying ice on the edge of the shelf, and bad fish not properly salted. There is danger everywhere in our lives, and we will face it together." Malitut said and Katara felt tears come to her eyes.

"It is best, though, for the children if we go." Kanna stated and Hakoda looked at his mother. As always, her face was stern and her jaw was set.

"You still want to take her north." Hakoda said quickly and then flinched. It was something he had not meant to say and Katara seized it immediately.

"North? Where?" She questioned and Hakoda sighed, but did not answer.

"I am from the North Pole. We have kin there, and most likely a proper Waterbending master." Kanna answered instead and Malitut made a thoughtful hum.

"I don't think you can make it to the north in one go." He said. "But the Southern Air Temple is a good start."

They ate dinner together and then after, Chief Malitut took them to the shore where many of the villagers were loading up the rafts. The vessels were wide and flat, with an army of paddling oars to send them slowly over the choppy sea. Bales of dried grass had already been heaped on and the smaller animals - the woolly ovines and the woolly porcines - had already been herded onto many of the rafts. The woolly bovines didn't like to be penned in for too long, so they would be pushed on in the morning before they set sail.

It was decided that Sokka would travel on one of the larger rafts with a group of older shepherds. Boys at his age did not often go with their families and it would look less suspicious. Katara and Kanna were assigned to a smaller one with a group of elderly women who were hand-knitting and watching one very pregnant sow.

That night, as they readied for bed, Hakoda took Katara back outside of the hut. They both looked up at the night sky, watching high up clouds drift over the stars, causing them to blink in and out of view.

"We will cross many miles before we see each other again my snowflake." Hakoda said and Katara immediately clung to her father, weeping. Hakoda laid a heavy hand on her back, neither soothing her nor bidding her to stop.

"Papa, I don't want to go!" Katara wailed. She pressed her hot face into Hakoda's coat till her nose began to hurt. "Please don't make me!"

"Katara." Hakoda said sternly, but lovingly. Katara sniffled but looked up at him. Hakoda crouched down and put a hand on either of her shoulders.

"Your name comes from 'atka,' the spirits. They are the ones who came before us, and the last Katara from our village was once a great angakok. She could put on a whale seal skin and become one, swimming in deep waters to feed the village during a famine. You are the last hope for our people." Hakoda stopped abruptly, as if he had more to say but could not gather the words. Katara whimpered and Hakoda brought her to his chest, hugging her.

"You are my daughter Katara, and I will love you forever." He said and kissed her hair.

Katara thought she would never be able to fall asleep, but ultimately, between her father's swirling breaths and Sokka's even ones, Katara felt tears dry on her cheeks as she drifted.

The next morning, there were more tears. Sokka now, even at ten, still had to have his hands pried away from Hakoda's coat. The other boys took him gently and tried to cheer him up, mostly by poking the tied up woolly ovines with long pieces of hay. Hakoda also stayed busy by helping the other adults push the woolly bovines up onto the rafts and lashing them down. The animals were massive and the rafts dipped dangerously low in the water. Katara felt the ramping anxiety watching it all, and Kanna had to gently lead her away.

When they were settled and the animals had all been tied down, the rafts began to push away. Some distance don the row, Katara could hear the sudden howling of her brother. She too began to cry and Kanna gathered her into her lap, swaying slowly from side to side.

Just as they pushed off, someone called out.

"Wait!" Hakoda yelled and Katara looked up. Her father came up huffing, and his eyes were red and tight. He held out something in his hands and Katara scrambled over to get it.

"Your parents will never leave you." Hakoda said. The raft pulled away from the shore and Katara grasped the thing her father had offered. She sank back once the raft fully hit the water looked down at her hands.

It was her mother's necklace.