Disclaimer: I don't own!
Pairing: Implied!Tahnorra
Genre: Drama
100moods Writing Challenge Prompt: #023. curious
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: 12/9/13. Set in Book One, between episodes five and six.

So, fun fact: I actually posted this little drabble a long, long time ago... under a different penname. :P Sometime back in September, I made a brand new tumblr account on a whim and posted fic, just for the hell of it. I decided I didn't really need it anymore, and I'm pretty serious about organization, so I decided to post it here, after all...

Enjoy!

guard

She'd only been looking for Mako.

One evening, not too long before Korra's world would come quickly crashing down and the spirit of the pro-bending championships would be changed forever, she visited the arena. Heart pounding from her most recent escape off the island, still dripping from her dip in the harbor, Korra slipped through a side door that she thought she might have remembered leading to the loft upstairs. As she came across the choice between a flight of narrow stairs and a dark and narrow hallway, she heard noises—faint and familiar—from a door farther down the way.

As she approached, it became clear that the sounds she heard were much less like the whoosh of escaping heat and much more like swift rush of water curling through the air. Confused, she slowed her step as she neared the open door—an entryway, she realized, to one of the many gyms dotted throughout the building—and carefully peered around the edge of the frame.

It had never occurred to her that Tahno of the White Falls Wolfbats might be there, too.

He was alone, on the far side of the training floor. The lamps were all off, save for the few that lined his corner, but she could still make out the shape of him drifting across the floor; bare feet padding smoothly over the mats, long torso twisting with the force of each strike. Korra dared tilt her head a fraction more beyond the wall, watching closely through narrowed eyes. She didn't know much about him, but it didn't seem like him to be alone.

The crash of water drumming against the target rushed past her ears, a subdued and soothing sound from so far away. She couldn't see his face, so she watched him drag his arms through the air, fluid and fierce, spiraling tendril after tendril of water into a weapon, powerful and precise. Unthinkingly, Korra stepped forward, ever so slightly, to get a better look. His expression was unreadable, too far away, but she could still read the movement of his shoulders, the line of his kicks, the cut of his thrusts. If she looked closely enough, she could almost see the impossible wrinkles in his shirt, the bead of sweat along his brow. She could almost imagine the strength of his thighs, the jut of his abs. The cords of tendon threading his arms.

Slowly, Korra's stance relaxed, so gradual and so minute that she barely noticed herself moving forward at all—until a sharp noise from behind jolted her into awareness. She snapped back, quick as lightning, and pressed her spine into the safety of the wall, facing the danger in the dark. After a tense moment, she breathed easily. A rat. Just a rat.

Swallowing her pride, and her curiosity, Korra carefully slipped through the hallway, back the way she'd come. The danger had passed, but the adrenaline was still high, as were her fists.

She'd already lowered her guard enough for one night.