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Take 2 - Of Desperation and Hate
She stands there, Holding onto the wind wane atop the roof of the tallest tower.
She wants to jump.
Below her the asylum is spread out in all its grey glory, black dots that she supposed were patients milling around in the courtyards and smoke curling from the chimneys in soft plumes, tall ominous walls surrounding the whole thing like a guarded fort. She would have scoffed at how common it looks if she weren't hanging on to dear life, debating whether or not to let go.
This is the second time she's escaped, this is the second time she couldn't get passed the walls, the second time she failed.
By now the glow in her eyes have dimmed, the excitement of breaking out leaving her. She is too tired to firebend. She hopes she can manage, Azula is a force to be reckoned with even without her firebending. The sniveling cowards who call themselves healers already know that, they've been drugging her food, and she is weak. She congratulates herself for getting so far.
She slumps dangerously, her feet failing her, the wane bends, the mounted pig rooster bowing almost mockingly to her, before it gives way and she is falling.
Azula laughs, her laughter no longer discernible from her screams. She laughs until her ears hurt.
Her eyes blaze like the sun.
The ground is rushing up at her, and she closes her eyes with a grin plastered on her lips, she revels in the fact that after a few moments she would be free from this accursed misery, she would be free!
She laughs again as she anticipates the inevitable crunch as she hits the ground.
It never comes.
She falls with a slight thud onto something soft and warm and furry and for the life of her she can't understand what happed. She pulls her head back to stare at thick white fur and understanding flashes in her golden eyes.
That sick short sadistic busybody!
She pushes herself onto her side with a groan (she thinks she must have broken another rib) and stares into his stormy grey eyes. They are crinkled with worry even as his face is set in a neutral manner. The damned Avatar and his bloody sky bison.
Her eyes narrow dangerously as she puts all the hate and anger and sadness and despair floating inside her into the next three words she hisses in her gravelly voice:
"I hate you."
The Avatar just stares back for a moment, and then nods.
Azula Is 25
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