tip
Korra frowned in her sleep.
tip tap
Her lips twitched in her irritation, and her head lolled to the side.
tap tip tap
But that meant that one side of her slumbering mind was suspected to the infuriating noise of the rain.
tip tap tip tip
The sound was just too much. Korra's brain murmured for her to wake up, so she did, but she wasn't very happy about it.
tip tip tip tip tip
Damn rain. The young Avatar shifted her weight and rolled over, pulling the pillow over her head, hoping that the noise would go away.
tap tip tap-tap-tap tip
Korra raised her eyebrows but didn't move. Was that a rhythm? The rain seemed a little... irregular that time.
tip-tip tip... tap tip tap-tap
It was a rhythm! That was weird, but not weird enough to make Korra get up. Besides, she didn't really know about rain; it always just snow or hail in the South Pole...
tip-tap-tap... tip tip tap-tip-tap
Okay, that was it. Korra groaned as she made herself fall over the side of the bed. Her body hit the wood-paved floor with a hard thud, and the blankets came tumbling down with her.
tip... tap tip tip... tap-tip-tip
The tapping was getting slower, more heavy, like the rain was getting tired. Korra willed herself to get up and move and investigate, but her limbs seemed locked in place with pent-up fatigue and stress.
tap-tip... tap... tip tap...
Spirits, what time is it? Korra thought as she moaned angrily, using her arms to clutch at the windowsill. She could just picture herself now: one lazy lump of an Avatar too sleepy to stand.
tip... tap-tap... tip...
It was enough of a self-insult to motivate her into action. Korra dragged herself to her feet, listening closely to the rain as she rose.
tip... tap... tip...
She growled in satisfaction as her aching feet balanced her upright on the ground, and she reached for the curtains of the window.
tip... tap...
Korra shoved the blinds apart.
tip
It wasn't raining.
A young, brown-haired woman smiled wearily as she stared back at the bewildered face of Korra.
The young Avatar was shaking her head, eyes flicking in all directions past the woman. It was evident that she couldn't see anything. The woman sighed, pressing her blue fingers against the glass.
"It's time for me to go, Korra," the woman said. "You'll get the letter tomorrow. Korra..."
Because she couldn't see the source of the tapping, Korra just frowned and closed the curtains, shielding the room inside from view.
But the woman still smiled. Korra wasn't spiritually talented enough to see the woman, even on a solstice, but the girl would figure it all out later. Korra would grieve, but she would go on to be a great Avatar. And besides...
"Katara?"
The woman turned, a laugh on her lips as she looked at the surprised but sparkling eyes of her late husband.
"Aang," she said, simply slipping her hand into his.
...Katara had her own Avatar to return to.