Oh drabbling, how I've missed thee…
Having six sisters meant you never had to be alone.
There was always someone to play with, to laugh with, to share clothes with, to sleep with if you had a nightmare, to gossip with, to complain with, to ask for help. A steady support wall on all sides.
There was also always someone teasing you, pulling your hair, wearing your clothes, stealing your toys, telling on you, fighting with you, and bothering you out of your mind.
Her parents were of little to no help. Being a nobleman, her father was available only when he wasn't holed up in his office (which they were forbidden to enter), and their mother always redirected them to one nanny or another. She and her sisters were always fighting and squabbling and making up and giggling constantly, and gave their parents a daily headache.
She could see why. Sometimes, it seemed they shared too much. She learned to read auras from her second-oldest sister. Her fourth-oldest sister had taught her to walk on her hands. She was packed into a room (that always seemed too small) with two of her other sisters. Her father, her mother, and the nannies went through at least five names before they called the girl the right one. They ate together, studied together, went out together…
She wanted something for herself.
One day, they (together) went to a traveling circus show that was passing through. She was absorbed by the magic of it, the splendor of the show. Finally, a place where she could shine.
She left a note, packed a bag, and joined the caravan the next night. The ringmaster was impressed by what she could do, and set her up for more lessons with the acrobats. She was given her own costume, and was promised that if she got good enough, she could even get her own act.
The show moved on. So did she.
But sometimes, late at night, in her own dressing room, in her own bed, she missed her sisters. Fighting and squabbling and making up and giggling and being together.
Because without someone to be together with, Ty Lee was all alone.