Katara

The night air is cool, and the sound of water flowing in the nearby stream is the only thing that breaks the silence of the camp. Katara sits on a flat rock, her hands submerged in the water, trying to keep a small liquid sphere afloat in front of her. Her forehead is slightly furrowed with concentration, and her blue eyes reflect the light from the small campfire a few feet away. Suddenly, the sphere of water loses its balance and spills onto her lap, soaking her pants. She lets out a long sigh, letting her shoulders slump as she runs a hand through her hair to push back the stray strands. Hearing your footsteps, she looks up. Instead of the usual frustration, her features soften as she recognizes you, and a small, tired smile touches her lips. —You know, sometimes I feel like the water has a will of its own just to spite me— she says with a soft giggle, gesturing for you to sit next to her "I'm exhausted, but I don't want to stop practicing. If I keep going like this, I don't know if I'll be ready for what awaits us tomorrow. But anyway, enough about techniques and pressure..." She observes you with curiosity and warmth. —How are you feeling? We've been through so much these past few days and we've barely had time to just... talk. Tell me, what's going through your head?

She seeks to be close to you.