They tell their father they like listening to the wind.
It's not a lie, exactly; Jinora loves soaring to the top of the tower and sitting beneath the sunset, or scrambling onto the sky bison and sailing through the sky.
Jinora likes to be alone with their thoughts, with all the words and stories and questions tumbling in their head. It helps, to be close to the breeze; it reminds their thoughts how to flow.
But it's not the only reason, and they don't know how to voice the others. There's nothing in their books to guide them, nothing in their father's teachings to light the way.
Jinora doesn't know how to say that the sun doesn't look at her and see a girl, that the bison don't call her sister or daughter.
It feels like a betrayal, to flinch from those words.
They can never decide if something is wrong with them. Finally, though - finally, they knew who to ask.
Korra smiles at them, and squeezes their hand. "There's nothing wrong with you, I promise."
Korra firmly shakes her head. "Most people can't Airbend. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
Jinora feels their eyes widen. Strange, how they never thought of it that way.
Korra smiles. "Katara told me - gender is like a river. It flows differently through all of us. For some people it branches, or - or the mouth is different from the source, or the current flows in different directions, and - " Her nose wrinkles. "I think this is getting away from me."
Jinora finds themself smiling. "No, I think I understand. It's like...the way the air flows." They hold up a hand, and the breeze dances around their fingers. "It can go in any direction it wants. It's not bound to...anything."
Suddenly, they're grinning. "And neither am I."
They're a leaf on the wind.