(Untitled)

[lemur_sitter]

Sokka doesn't know it, but they're at the Chicago end of Lake Michigan. They've steered clear of people and cities, made their way through the countryside, found a quiet field sloping down to the edge of the water. On the way they stopped to pick up what they needed

Comments

[runaway_bandit]

Toph is quiet, as well. For all sorts of reasons, but mostly just sadness.

Hatred of being in a boat on a lake where she can't see anything it just irritating. Confusion and envy about Claire and Sokka is another. Those at least, she can hold on to and stew in gently.

Because every time she remembers it's Katarain that coffin, another tear falls.

[lilmsmiraclegro]

Claire's sitting with her arm around Toph - who didn't protest at least, so Claire took that as permission - and her other hand scratching Mr. Muggles as he lies quiet in her lap. But she's watching Sokka all the time across the coffin between them, her eyes filled with worry.

[lemur_sitter]

He doesn't really know how to do this. It's been a long time.

He isn't sure what he should say.

He's worried about Claire. She doesn't get it, and she's scared of the man -- Sylar -- and she needs him to be strong, so that's what he'll be. But he doesn't know what to say to her.

He settles for a slightly weak, entirely false smile, the next time he looks up and she's watching him.

[lilmsmiraclegro]

Claire's mouth twitches in return - looking for a reason to smile but not finding it.

Somewhere along the line she's managed to get the impression it's not about her in the slightest, and now she's just allowed in this ritual as a spectator.

She feels a bit like an anthropologist. Invading where she doesn't belong.

So next time Sokka looks up, she'sgazing out over the lake.