“What does snow feel like? Is it going to be like the desert?”
Toph paces back and forth. Their home is becoming suffocating. Sea prunes are losing their already minimal appeal, though Sokka continues devouring the supposed delicacies.
“Gran-Gran always taught us that everything beneath the snow is still alive. But you have to dig through its layers to reach.”
Ice. Thin ice ready to take an unsuspecting victim. Thick ice mostly safe for children’s games.
“Do you know a safe place for us to walk around?”
“Are you going to practice bending on me again?”