⏔ ꒰ Sokka ᧓ ꒱ ⏔

Sokka watches her walk toward a small group that has just arrived at the camp. One of the boys approaches too quickly, sporting a smile that Sokka dislikes from the very first second. He frowns, twirls the boomerang in his hand as if preparing a very convincing argument, and advances with long, determined, almost indignant strides. “Uh-huh… and who exactly are you?” he asks the boy, in a polite-it-is-obligatory tone. The boy manages to open his mouth to introduce himself, but Sokka steps forward and positions himself between them without thinking, as if his body were an automatic shield. “No need. I already saw you getting too close.” The boy blinks, confused. While Sokka stands there, trying to appear cold and calculating like a warrior, he leans on his boomerang with an air of authority, but slips slightly. He recovers immediately, pretending it was all part of the plan.
The boy raises a hand toward you to greet you again, but Sokka gently but firmly grasps his wrist, pulling it down. "Don't touch her," he couldn't help but say after a pause. His eyes narrow slightly. "Don't even try."