"Insanity," Hakoda says, "And brilliance are often the same thing."

I wonder if this is his approval showing or if he just enjoys saying things like that.

...

"But you did place your entire crew in danger by recognising the signs of the approaching storm, especially as a bender and especially as one as proficient as we were led to believe, and then not seeking appropriate shelter in the cities on the way here," Hakoda continues, stirring the pot. His eyes bore into mine, and he must be considering how glad he is that I no longer travel with his children. Perhaps he also recognises that I am unwilling to sacrifice my own safety and freedom for people I've known only for a short time.

But he doesn't know how I've grown fond of Aang, Sokka and Katara.

Then again, not fond enough to leave Omashu together with them. Instead, I left it with a Fire Nation princess who had temporarily lost her memory and is now dead-set on capturing and probably torturing and killing me. So, all in all, he is right to suspect that his children are safer without me. However, he doesn't know half of that.

"I had little choice. The Fire Nation princess is like a very efficient bloodhound, and I have no intentions of becoming the Fire Nation's prisoner. Or worse, her personal one. None of the others were keen on her either," I smile a half-smile, "I'm sure you, in my position would have found different choices to make. However, you were not, and so, to judge this particular instance is going so far as to encroach on a judge's profession. As the chief of my sister-tribe, you fulfil that position somewhat, I admit. But there are choices one makes in war, as I am sure you have done, that we are not particularly proud of. In the end, I have no desire to justify my actions before you now. As I would not expect you to justify yourself before me."

I do not know what he thinks of my last words. Which instances he thinks of. But I can tell that there are instances he thinks of, and he nods. He does not smile. But he nods.

And so, I do not mention the way he left his children behind in order to make these decisions one makes in war. He seems to be less of a hypocrite than I am.

Katsuo speaks then, staring at his tea, "You always were very pragmatic. I remember how you used to get us out of most trouble for surfing the wall by arguing that then the spectators should also be punished for encouraging us, children that we were. In that light, you really were a prodigy."

"What," I smile, "Only in that light?"

He rolls his eyes and looks like he'd like to swat me. No one's dared since Yue. I rub away the ache in my chest with a hand. The shirt's texture is rough and scratchy.

"Pakku spoke very highly of you," Hakoda mentions almost casually, if not for the way his scrutiny is all too obvious. I suppose that's a courtesy on his part. I'm fairly certain he could do the assessing in a less blatant way. "I can see why he likes you."

Katsuo sighs. "You really were his favourite."

I shrug. I know that. The entire Northern Watertribe knows it. "Pakku gets along well with those who don't easily defer to him. My antagonism wasn't geared deliberately to appeal to him, but its helped us understand each other well."

He laughs humourlessly. "Whenever I disobeyed, there was no understanding."

"Pakku is also uncompromising. But from the beginning, he wanted something. From you it was obedience. From me… a challenge. It's not fair, of course. But no person can ever be truly fair. And Pakku is far from impartial in any of his decisions."

"You know him well. Better than we had the chance to," Bato comments almost idly when Katsuo remains silent.

"I'm sure you had more than his personality and my personal failures to discuss," I say, shrugging. "Such as your mother in law. He was very excited to get to meet her again. And on that note, I would ask if there is anything I can do for the time that I am here, after this storm. I will have to rest for the night, but afterwards, I could assist you in repairs, or checking those traps you set, Katsuo. Some of them were damaged, I think, unless I don't understand their functions."

A snort from the tent's entrance makes all our heads swivel to look at the new arrival. Buniq. She looks, similarly to Katsuo, as though she has grown with her challenges. No longer is there the easy deference in the presence of men. During the invasion, she made use of some of what I taught her to defend herself, and her fellow healers. But there is still the burns on her hands from when the Moon died.

"Hello, Buniq," I greet, and like Hakoda, make no secret of my scrutiny of her.

"Kaito. As deceitful as ever," she says, sits beside me and smiles. "You know I never thought I would, but I missed seeing you around."

"Are you sure that's not nostalgia for old time's sake?" I ask drily, aware that she doesn't actually mean that. She doesn't smile when she tells the truth.

"You're right. Now I remember why I hated you so much." And, true to my observations, her smile has gone.

Katsuo laughs on my other side. "I didn't know you knew each other."

I remain silent, and smile while I wait for Buniq's answer. Whatever she comes up with would be better than the truth, probably.

"He taught me some bending," she says carefully.

Katsuo's eyes widen. "That's… Isn't that forbidden?"

I shrug. "I may not have been a master, but no master would have taught her, so…"

"Why?" Hakoda asks.

"So Pakku forgot to mention," I state wryly. Well, it would not have endeared the Northern Watertribe to Hakoda, and so it was not said. "Katara is the first woman to officially learn bending other than healing in the north. Things will have changed now, with her example, but she's the first."

The two southerners sit in silence for a time.

"But why would you learn from Kaito if you hated him?" Bato asks.

She remains silent.

"We made an exchange. Buniq helped me with some healing techniques, and I returned the favour." I don't mention the secrecy in which we were forced to do this. That much is obvious. But it's not clear in what a precarious position I put myself at the time, to return the favour. Pakku would have been so outraged, he would have forsaken everything else between us, and made certain that I would never become a master. And I would not want the southerners to know how horrible the tribe could be.

"So men don't heal in the North?" Hakoda asks.

"Not many. And certainly with less proficiency than the healers," Katsuo replies. "More of the younger ones learn it since Kaito went without Pakku's protest. But its still considered a woman's profession."

"And you?" Hakoda prods.

Katsuo's surprise at the question is evident. "Ah, no. I've not taken it up."

"Well. Perhaps if an opportunity presents itself, Buniq could teach you," Hakoda suggests. Well. This is certainly interesting. It seems the chief of the Southern Watertribe has no reservations about changing his sister tribe's social structures.

I smile.

Katsuo, seeing that, sends a questioning look Buniq's way, who nods, silently pleased.

"Before that can happen, though," I say, accepting the bowl of stew Bato hands me, "You will need to show me around your defences."

Katsuo nods. "Yes."

We eat mostly in silence, then, except for the usual compliments for the chef.

That is, until one of the warriors pushes aside the tent flap. "Hakoda! There's an argument between one of the women and the warriors about rationing!"

Hakoda doesn't sigh, but he looks like, were he alone, he would.

"I had better come with you," I say, emptying my bowl, and setting it aside neatly.

That seems to be the catalyst for everyone following Hakoda to where raised voices can be heard.

Mai, clutching her brother, looks furious as she glares at the man who stands between her and the food.

"There is no way my brother could eat this," she gestures to an abandoned bowl of stew at the fireplace. "It is far too spiced and chewy."

"Nonsense! I ate it growing up, he ate it growing up, we all did!"

...

Don't forget to throw some power stones :)

...

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