CHALLENGER ➫ sokka

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙬𝙤 - 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘳

Though her sanctioning for the short preference had underlying reasons besides not wanting sweat to mat it against the back of her neck during the day.

Yet the risk of her appearance for demanding work wasn't something the teenager curses. She looks at the landscape with much love, oblivious to the four behind her, six if she wanted to count the animals. The sunset plagues her family's lands with oil-painted colors. Sweet lavenders and tangy oranges spill out from the cup that the sun has tipped between the mountains as a last-minute hurrah— it's attempt to show its final beauty in its setting minutes. Come tomorrow morning, the burning, beautiful orb would be back with a display of the blue of an ocean Hika can only dream of seeing, and pinks that rival the color of fresh strawberries.

To the left of her is the wheat that Hika would have to gather at her wake tomorrow. The golden streaks bow down to the gentle breeze that tousles her hair. It was coming from the valley of the mountains that safeguarded her farm against intruders. The winds come from the same hilltops that are snow crested at their peaks, that absorb the colors of the sun that yawns for the earth they stand on, that wrap her family's vast property in a hug of protection.

And to her right, a field of wild berries. A miscellany of every kind of bush-borne fruit Hika could think of. 

She smiles. This was an achievement of great pride for her— in a small Earth Kingdom village run by absentee Fire Nation Troops that would come to starve the occupants of their money and supplies, a small field of fruit she planted as her own was the closest she could come to self-dignity.

She has worked endlessly for this crop, for all the crops. So yes, the colors that reflect in Aang's wondrously grey eyes and the 'ooh's and 'ahh's that come from Sokka's watering mouth boast the already quite confident girl. Hoji should be proud too, if not for his earthbending, the lands wouldn't have been so organized. She'd hardly be able to tell where the vegetable end and fruits begin. The boy's prowess created a grid-like system of paths and drainage routes over the years. Those very systems helped harvest the crops and allowed the family to reserve water in the scenario of a drought.

It was intense work that loomed over the twin's shoulders with great claws and sharpened eyes. It's shadow hung over them in the form of sun-sprinkled freckles, dark skin, and sunburnt exposure that would make it hard for them to be conceived as elegant or poised. As earthbenders, they'd been predisposed to pouring their all into their family's property. Being almost essential meant having to stop going to school so they could spend more time devoting themselves to what they were supposedly more suited for. Having their element surrounding them meant honing in on natural skills. Having abilities that benefited their work meant relentlessly using them for only simple praise. So thinking of the farm is always bittersweet. Like a ripe blueberry. The prize of her hard work, the pay off from it, was rather fortunate, maybe even the most successful in her village. Even so, Hika could tell she became revolted by some of the memories devoted to the hard work.

Who could do that to their own son? She thinks, pushing down whatever build-up of jaw-tensing bile that grew in the back of her throat. He was happier. Now he's just content.

Although she'd say they were happy. She'd assume at least. There has always been a notion of having it worse. That, had Hoji not had a disability, he'd be signed up to fight on the front lines. So she'll continue to say they were happy. Well, one is, and the other is satisfied. Hoji gladly stays back with the fluffy beast that could probably beat the snot out of him but would never come close to hurting a fly, his jaw nearly sweeping the floor as he pets the bison, an odd task to do while walking through a farm, but...whatever.

Hika herself finds satisfaction in knowing that her brother found enjoyment in lieu of her suffering. "'Ika," Hoji calls from the back.

Hika cringes, she's been avoiding conversation the whole time, yet now her brother forces her into it. His stuffed voice is normal to her, but she knows that for Sokka, Katara, and Aang, it'd take a while to get used to. Hoji never truly learned how to talk, and he has absolutely no way of knowing to correct himself if he mispronounces a word or syllable. To add to his awkward trait, it sounds like he has cotton stuffed in the back of his mouth sometimes, still something Hika has never found needing correction, so she's never told him he sounded such a way. "We passed the barn. "