It was snowing.

White flakes drifting down from the sky, covering the ground and painting the land white. Katara is a big girl now, she knows it's called "snow"! Mama had told her the day before, when she had suddenly noticed the white that was eternally falling from above and pestered her parents to explain.

Katara doesn't like the snow much, she decides.

It's much too bright- hurts her eyes. It gets into them too, plus her parka and even her boots. Wet snow-leopard-bear fur isn't fun to wash at all! It's all Sokka's fault, she decides. He's always making a circle- a ball, she corrects herself with glee; she's so smart!- and throwing it at her. It hurts! She tells Mama, who chides and reprimands him lightly, and Sokka stops, but only for a short while.

He starts again soon after, and she retaliates by throwing some back. They fight until they both collapse onto the ground -covered with snow! Katara giggles- and they both know they will be lectured later- Wet snow-leopard-bear fur, after all, but they can't really bring themselves to care at the moment. Katara spreads her arms and legs out in the snow, moving them about until she creates what she pronounces the Greatest Snow Angel Ever. Sokka scoffs but plays along and makes the Greatest Snow Warrior ever.

After a while, the snow surrounding her eventually melts a bit (because of our body heat, Sokka explains, but Katara doesn't really listen to her brother's yapping, it's really dull and boring), and all of a sudden she thinks it's awesome! It's wet and shiny and it makes her feel happy. It calls to her.

She touches the wet-and-shiny, and it moves.

Sokka jerks up and stares with his mouth comically agape, finger pointing and shaking. He yells, and in a flash their small family surrounds the two siblings. Katara, sits up, confused. Is she in trouble? It's Sokka's fault, isn't it! She glares at him, the water surrounding her rises in little streaks, twirling around her in little swirls and globules. She points to Sokka, ready to accuse, and the liquid trails her finger, swotting his nose. Sokka yelps.

All is silent for a second.

Sokka sneezes, and the spell is broken. Mama gathers Katara into a hug, burying Katara's face in her hair. She's fervently murmuring something in native Water Tribe; Katara thinks it sounds nice, kind of sad though beautiful at the same time. She's a bit stunned at their reactions. Had she done something wrong? She's never seen anybody else in her tribe move water, she thinks it's called, before. Gran- Gran pats Mama's shoulder, melancholy smile on her face.

But Papa has a serious look etched onto his features.

(he knows what might happen. )

(that in two months, the snow will turn black and the war drums will start to sound once again.)

Katara jumps up in her sleeping bag with a small cry.

She looks in the face next to her, beautiful and scarred and either more so because of the other.

She doesn't know what to think, so she doesn't. She simply lies back down and tries to sleep.

She doesn't.