"Daddy, Daddy!"
"Stop!"
"I moved her! Wasn't that cool, Daddy?"
"What were you thinking? You could've killed him!" Arja doesn't even bother to say that Tian is a girl. Tears welling in her eyes, she suddenly grows angry.
"No, I didn't!"
"Tarrlok," Korra says, "calm down!"
"You're not a bad father." Korra pats his shoulder awkwardly. Tarrlok sits on the living room couch with his head in his hands. Sighing, he rubs his face before tiredly sitting up.
"I don't understand." It's a full moon, a night when Tarrlok mostly studied paperwork until Korra nudged him in the arm. He went to check on his daughter.
Arja mostly keeps to herself, but after her parents let her keep the dog, she plays with it. The dog is ornery; it takes chunks of time to comb the mats out of her hair. She leaves less-than-fragrant presents on expensive things. And Arja loves her.
She wonders how Naga (or "Na-Na," as she used to call her when she was just some dumb baby) would like the small dog. Arja calls the tiny dog with big eyes Tian because her fur is as white as the clouds in the sky. Well, it's raining now, but that's not the point. Republic City is bombarded by severe storms in the night around springtime, at about eight o'clock.
He tells Korra that he can bloodbend. He tells her everything.
Korra is a strong bender, but she has no genetic predilection to being able to bloodbend. Her parents are a warrior and a healer.
He searches for an answer in desperation. Tarrlok is surrounded, trapped by fate no matter what. He knows next to nothing about the oddball of a gentleman Korra describes as being her past lover.
"She's just a child," Korra says. "It's a full moon. Weird stuff happens."
Distraught, Tarrlok says, "I just can't understand. Why? She doesn't have a drop of my blood in her."