"It's always a delusion when I see what you don't want me to see."
Sokka found her, as always, on the new training fields. They weren't as expansive or as grand as the ones in the Northern tribe, but their Master had attracted an impressive number of students, effectively breaking the monopoly of the Northern tribe. Her hair, though messy, had yet to come undone and she had taken her parka off. This particular article of clothing was soon to become a source of contention. Sokka picked it up and moved towards his sister, who had yet to notice him through her concentration.
"Katara!" He yelled.
"Not now, Sokka." Sokka, determined, walked insistently closer.
"Yes now!"
"Fine." Katara's hands dropped and the icy snow and water she had been working with returned to the ground, soaking Sokka on the way. Katata laughed and Sokka's anger diffused as he realized he did not hear that laugh often. Sokka joined her, though when their laughter had tapered off he decided he would still say what he had to come to say.
"It's too cold to take your coat off." He stated matter-of-factly.
"Actually, it makes me too hot when I'm training." Katara's eyes glinted in the bright sunlight reflecting off the snow.
"Are you sure? I don't want you to get sick." As the real issue surfaced, Katara took offense. She snatched her coat from Sokka's hands so she could extract the water from it.
"I'm not a paper doll, Sokka." She pointed out dangerously. Sokka put his hands up, palms forward.
"I know."
"Then stop treating me like one!" Katara, finished with her parka, stalked away. Sokka hastily followed.
"I just think you're not as strong as you think you are." Katara rounded on him, throwing her hands in the air. Snow and ice followed them.
"What?!"
"The doctors, they told me—"
"Doctors?! I'm a healer too, did you forget? Don't you think I know my limits?!"
"That was one lesson, Katara! You have to be careful, or…" Sokka didn't want to finish his own sentence. Katara, yet to be pacified, continued to yell.
"Or what? I'm not made of glass! You think because you're Chief now you can tell me what to do, just like dad! But you're not—you're not…" Katara's hands fell to her sides and the snow crunched beneath her as she sank to her knees, tired and overwhelmed. She was crying now. "…my father." She choked out the last of her angry words then looked at Sokka, his brave face stricken with grief. "I'm sorry, Sokka, I—" Sokka knelt in front of Katara and hugged her tight, nodding his head as they both mourned the loss of their father and their innocence.