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Post by manju on Jul 3, 2007 12:37:02 GMT -5
Bounding out from the tunnel, Manju once more entered the strange underground bunker where everyone seemed to glow green. She turned back to see the the sand nomads Muqali and Nasrin along with the entourage of merchants clad in white robes exiting the tunnel, but the older sandbender was nowhere to be seen. The only telltale sign of what took place with Nasrin's comrade was the one soldier yelling at the tunnel. Manju, standing a good fifteen feet away, saw a bright flash down the tunnel, probably from a flame.
"Wha...?", she muttered to herseld, ambling toward Nasrin and stopping about five feet behind her as a Resistance soldier raised a stone wall. Manju didn't know what was going on, but it couldn't have been good. She thought it best to let the situation explain itself, rather than ask a million questions. Nasrin just seemed to just stand there, swaying slightly because she was probably drunk again, but with an air of sadness about her.
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Post by mulaqi on Jul 3, 2007 14:41:26 GMT -5
While a bit eccentric and silly, Muqali was not a coward. When push came to shove, he didn’t falter or back down, and there was little he truly feared. There was one thing that chilled him to the bone, though: helplessness. He hated the feeling, in part because he didn’t really believe that true helplessness existed. Something could have always been done to prevent bad things from happening, and helplessness was something that occurred when one failed to do the right thing and prevent those bad things from happening. Being the ambitious, somewhat idealistic man that he was, this meant that when he felt helpless, his initial reaction was to blame himself.
Such was the case when he turned towards the door just in time to see the male sandbender get hit full on with a burst of flame. He stood frozen in place, just starring at the door even as the soldiers closed it and sealed it as that feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him. His mind traced its way back through the events that had occurred when he entered the city, and he couldn’t help but feel that what had just happened was his fault. If he’d never shown up, the merchants would have never been captured, they would have never been coerced into this jailbreak scheme, and that man would have never been killed. He’d gotten innocent people mixed up into his struggle, and they’d paid for it. Great men didn’t do that. It was disgraceful.
He was still in the present enough to keep his face from reflecting his inner guilt to any great extent, and he kept with the group as they made their way through the stone halls. For a while, they walked in relative silence, aside from the chattering merchants, of course, and eventually they made it back to the Resistance camp. As they approached, the Earth Kingdom bender stepped forward to speak to the resistance leader, who was waiting for him as the merchants all spread out across the hall and assumed various positions of relaxation, leaving the soldiers, Muqali, Manju, and the female sandbender essentially alone with the resistance leader.
“Mission accomplished, sir,” he said, motioning to the noble being carried by his comrade. “One of the sandbenders was lost, however. We’re assuming KIA.”
“A shame. His sacrifice will be remembered,” the leader said somewhat solemnly. “What was his name?”
After a moment of silence, the soldier, along with everyone else present, suddenly realized that they didn’t actually know the man’s name. Slowly, all eyes turned to the female sandbender, expecting her to have some kind of answer.
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Post by nasrin on Jul 10, 2007 16:39:53 GMT -5
The trek back down the tunnel was largely a blur to the dazed woman of the desert. Nasrin hardly registered the several minutes it took to get back to the larger underground chambers that the Resistance had made their base of operations. Along the way, her mind was struggling to grasp the concept that her fellow sandbender wasn't going to be meeting them there, and that he was in all likelihood lost forever. Nasrin's brow was furrowed slightly as she tried to come to terms with that, and she looked over her shoulder down the tunnel in order to confirm that he was indeed gone.
In fact, she was still in such a haze that she didn't even hear the question asked of her by one of the soldiers. When she turned around, still oblivious to the question, the soldier asked again slightly louder. At that point, Nasrin realized everyone was looking her way, and she was suddenly finding it difficult to order her thoughts.
"His name?" she repeated blankly, shifting her gaze slowly across the assembled people. Her hand came up to scratch her temple as she pondered that question. What was his name? It had been almost two months since she'd begun this assignment, and that was the first time she'd met her fellow sandbender. Her employer introduced them that day, and ever since then, they'd only talked occasionally, and even then she typically was just close enough that she didn't need to call his name to get his attention.
Two months of not using his name and countless drinks later, she had completely forgotten...
"I..." she started, feeling slightly confused and a little embarassed, "dont... know..." One of the soldiers near her raised an eyebrow and several others wore equally surprised looks. "I just..." she tried to explain, though her slight drunkenness was making it hard for her to articulate the reason behind this unusual situation, "never... kinda forgot."
One of the merchants was discussing quietly with the others, and then spoke up in lieu of an answer from Nasrin, "We just called him 'Mercenary' most of the time."
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Post by manju on Jul 12, 2007 0:45:32 GMT -5
Manju scampered around for a bit after their arrival, being one of the first to make it back. But when she heard Muqali speak up, she had to trail back to her associates. She was curious to hear how Nasrin would answer. Manju had been with that same fellow for some time, and realized she never actually knew his name either. But when Nasrin answered, Manju had to restrain a series of cackles.
Swiveling her entire body, she began to take a few steps backward so her face could meet those behind her. The only outburst she could muster was a slightly humored "What?" The approach was somewhat irreverant, but it was nonetheless an amusing situation. Manju couldn't help but let a smirk tug at her pale lips. Of course, she kept in mind that Nasrin may have been too drunk to remember at this point in time. The Si Wong native did oftentimes have the habit of getting drunk, after all.
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Post by mulaqi on Jul 13, 2007 23:59:13 GMT -5
Muqali blinked of a bit of surprise, but otherwise kept a fairly level expression at Nasrin’s reply. The man’s death was still keeping him somewhat down, after all. The Earth Kingdom soldiers, however, seemed to be a little less inclined to be diplomatic, giving her perplexed expressions and scoffing a little.
“Are you serious? You don’t even know your comrade’s own name?” one snorted. “Unbelievable! He was doing all the work while you were busy quenching your thirst and you don’t even have the respect to know his name?”
Before the soldier could continue further, Muqali cut him off with an uncharacteristic mellow tone to his voice, “Relax, it’s not a big deal. A name is just what you call someone, but their actions make them what they are.”
The soldiers’ attention turned to Muqali, at first somewhat surprised. Then, as they mulled over what he said, they gradually changed to a kind of grudging acceptance. It made sense, from a certain perspective, a perspective that Muqali had always shared. It had been one of the reasons he’d left the desert in the first place. If he wanted to be a great man, then he needed to do great things, and there weren’t that many great things in the shifting sands of the Si Wong Desert, or so Muqali had surmised.
“She remembers him for what he did, not what he was called, and that is enough,” Muqali continued before walking away from the group. “Anyway, I’m pretty tired. I’m gonna go get some rest.”
Raising his hand over his shoulder without turning his head in a farewell gesture as he left, Muqali scanned the halls for a nice place to sit and rest. Passing the merchants, he eventually found a nice spot to sit about fifty meters away from where he had been speaking with the others. Propping his back up against the wall and sliding down to a sitting position, he remove his tonfa from their “sheaths” and set them next to him for added comfort. He’d done a lot of running and fighting today, leaving him with somewhat tired limbs, but mostly it was mental fatigue that plagued him. He’d done a miserable job at completing the task Yunchang had given him, costing at least one person their life. Had more been killed during the initial skirmish? He couldn’t say, but he was beginning to think it possible.
With a sigh, Muqali closed his eyes and rested his forearms on his knees. It had been a long day.
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Post by nasrin on Jul 14, 2007 18:11:18 GMT -5
Despite the rather harsh criticisms of the Resistance soldiers and Muqali's surprisingly insightul defense, Nasrin hardly seemed to respond. She simply continued to stand still, staring blankly at some point in space a few feet in front of her. The whole ordeal had shaken her, though she seemed utterly unable to begin expressing any of the thoughts or emotions she might have. After a few moments, though, she seemed to decide that standing was no longer a good idea.
The heavily-wrapped woman wandered her way past the Si Wong merchants, who seemed unsure of whether to follow her or not. Nasrin was unaware of them, and merely slumped against the nearest wall where she could rest.
Not long afterward the large chamber was filled with the sounds of footsteps as the other Resistance soldiers, the ones who'd been raiding the city's armory, returned from their mission. Nearly a score of men walked into the large green-hued room bearing the spoils of their raid. A handful of weapons, contraband, and even what appeared to be a chest full of gold. The merchants swarmed over them upon recognizing some of the goods they carried as their own siezed wares.
And through it all, Nasrin merely tried to sleep.
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Post by manju on Jul 16, 2007 0:51:09 GMT -5
Manju claimed her belongings soon after the conquering Resistance soldiers arrived. She grasped both her short spears, her treasured weapons from her homeland in one hand, while in the other hand, she procured the simple green bamboo fragment used as a dart-shooter. Looking around, she soon found her traveling sack, in which were the rest of her belongings.
Shamelessly and in front of everyone, she unbuttoned and slid off her vest and shoved it inside the satchel beside other things. Now in only a simple tube top, her upper body was immodestly bare, but she didn't care. Despite what the others inside the structure were thinking, Manju wanted to feel unrestrained for the first time in days.
Nasrin and Muqali were now preoccupied. And the Igni of the Umi Hebi tribe couldn't blame them for wanting to rest. The ordeal was draining physically, and for Nasrin, emotionally. Manju threw all her items into the sack and walked over to sit beside her friend Nasrin. The sandbender probably didn't notice Manju's presence as she was presumeably drifting off into slumber, but all Manju wanted to do now was sleep as well. About five feet away from her comrade Nasrin, Manju let her head drift downward as she closed her honey-tinted eyes. Sleep would be a welcome and refreshing event.
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Post by mulaqi on Jul 23, 2007 0:29:03 GMT -5
It was a couple hours past dawn by the time Muqali woke up, though you couldn’t tell. With no sun, Muqali had slept a little longer than normal, leaving his body feeling especially refreshed. His mind, however, was still feeling somewhat weary. It wasn’t just the death of the sandbender, he’d lost much closer comrades in battle before, but it was more that his high hopes for this journey had failed to pan out. He had planned to take the soldiers to their home safely, do a good thing and see the world outside the desert for the first time, and find a way to make a bit of a name for himself along the way. He hadn’t expected to run into such problems, and overcome them so clumsily. Hell, was the task he’d completed even that important? Was it worth the trouble he’d caused? He didn’t know.
Yawning wearily, Muqali stood up and stretched himself out. What was the plan now? Keep working for the Resistance? No, that wouldn’t do. He needed to get home eventually, and further, a fighter who knew nothing about Omashu and little about the enemy would probably be of minimal benefit to the Resistance. He’d leave, but he didn’t know where. He was pondering this in the middle of stretching out his shoulders when a voice interrupted him.
“Excuse me, are you the, uh…Sand Nomad that delivered the letters from the missing soldiers?” said a slightly timid female voice.
Muqali turned to find a slim, black haired woman looking at him, expecting an answer. She was holding a brown sack in front of her, and her skirt seemed to be moving for some reason. Blinking in surprise, Muqali nodded slowly.
“I’m Yu Mei, Yunchang’s wife. I had heard that a Sand Nomad was the one who came with the letters, so I talked to all the other families and we decided to gather a bit of food as a thank you,” she explained, and then thrust the bag forward towards Muqali. “It isn’t much, but please take it.”
Muqali rubbed the back of his head nervously, unsure what to do, “I really shouldn-“
“Please, it wouldn’t feel right,” the woman insisted. “You might not have thought that letter meant much, but…we…we had feared the worst, and by the time your letter got here, most had already given up hope. But just hearing that Yunchang, that all of those men, are alive, it gave us reason to keep hoping.”
Looking down at the woman, Muqali felt an odd mixture of feelings. He didn’t know whether to feel sad for this woman, whose husband was far off in war, or happy for her that she now truly had reason to hope. He did know, however, that he needed to take the bag, or the woman was going to find a way to attach it to him. Nodding in understanding, Muqali took the bag from her, and was about to speak when Yu Mei’s skirt began moving again, and two small faces peered out from behind her. One was that of a little girl’s, probably about six or seven, and the other was a smaller boy, probably two or three years old.
“Oh, this is my daughter Wu and my son Wei,” said Yu Mei, noticing Muqali’s gaze. “Say thank you to the nice man, children.”
The Sand Nomad felt himself flush as two tiny “Thank you, nice man”s came from the small children. He didn’t feel like he deserved all this attention, but then as he looked down at the little children, who perhaps didn’t know where their father had gone, he decided that perhaps he might deserve a little of it. Besides, he loved little kids. Squating down to about eye level with the girl, he grinned lopsidedly at the two.
“You're welcome,” he said. “Daddy says hi.”
At this, Wu grinned, while Wei took two small steps forward, looking curiously at Muqali. The Sand Nomad barely had time to raise an eyebrow before suddenly he found a tiny little finger rammed straight up his nose. The boy retracted his hand before Muqali could recover enough to remove it himself, giggling at the funny expression the man had made (because who wouldn’t have looked funny with toddler’s hand sticking up their nose. After an exchange of goodbyes and thank yous between Yu Mei and Muqali, the little family walked off down the hallway, hand-in-hand. At that moment, Muqali couldn’t help but smile, and feel that his journey had most definitely been worth the trouble.
With his new bag of food, Muqali sat down against the wall and pulled out a bag of jerked meat. He spotted Manju and the other Sandbender not too far away, and his little high sank ever so slightly, though it remained intact. What would they do, he wondered? Stick with the caravan…what was left of it, anyway? Didn’t seem like a fun job, or a glorious one. Still, it was their choice. He supposed as soon as the Resistance escorted them out of the city, he’d get to find out first hand.
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Post by nasrin on Jul 24, 2007 21:13:08 GMT -5
As the hours passed, Nasrin lost track of whether she was awake or asleep. As times it seemed like she was so dettached from her surroundings that she might as well have been floating in a dream. She was only weighted down by a lingering headache and a mild sense of loss.
The alcohol she'd consumed, powerful though it might have been, had almost completely left her bloodstream. That sort of tolerance was typically reserved for Fire Nation dock workers, and in some ways it was a point of pride for the desert dweller. However, even without the fog of liquour shrouding her mind, she still felt somewhat estranged. Over the past hour or so, she'd had time to realized that her fallen companion was practically her mouthpiece to the world. Normally, she simply didn't care enough to put forth the effort required to convince others of her point of view, or even to share a relevant thought. The older sandbender seemed to read her thoughts and say them aloud for her, an astounding feat considering her expressionless eyes and ample facial bandages!
Regardless, Nasrin also realized that she should not claim guilt for his death. There wasn't a one of them who didn't know the dangers of entering the captured city, and no one could have predicted the arrival of Muqali. Poor judgement, unusual circumstance, and rotten luck all played their part to take the life of the elder sandbender, and Nasrin didn't think he was the type who wanted the world to stop turning because he wasn't in it.
So when the time finally came and a handful of Resistance soldiers roused the Si Wong natives plus the strange Igni girl, Nasrin was ready and willing to make the trip. The lot of them were escorted along a winding trail of tunnels and sloping ramps that eventually led them to the outside edge of the city far below earthen walls. With the aid of bending, they were floated across the chasm that surrounded Omashu, at which point they were then escorted via earthbending on an underground walk to the foothills of the surrounding mountains.
When at last there was decent cover to make their escape unnoticeable, the Resistance soldiers bade them a farewell and hen started back toward the city. The handful of Si Wong merchants were all holding armfulls of their recovered goods, while Nasrin merely stared up blankly at the stars in order to determine some sense of direction.
"How are you going to get us back?" the head merchant Gao asked. Several of the other white-robed traders voiced similar queries, and after the third or fourth, she final tore her glance from what she thought was the North Star.
"Idunno," she shrugged, taking a seat on a large boulder laying nearby. "Walk..." she let a hand drift up toward the bright star she'd located earlier, let herself turn about 90° to the right, and then added, "Walk that way?"
Gao's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "W-wha-what!?"
"You're not escorting us back?"
"We paid for your protection!"
If Nasrin was moved by their pleading, she didn't seem to show it. She merely continued to play with the sand, using her big toe to scoop a small trench in the dirt beneath her. Gao seemed utterly outraged.
"This is why people think we're a bunch of thieves and bandits!" he spat at her, "Now, you provide us with guidance back to the nearest oasis, or I will have your employer string you out for the vulture-wasps to devour!"
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Post by manju on Jul 25, 2007 0:47:13 GMT -5
Now perched far from where they once were, the small group sadly now lessened to a trio had bid farewell to the city. Manju procured her belongings, one of her spears in her hand while the other rested in the sack slung over her shoulder. She ran her finger across its edge, its dry, flaking skin feeling every small groove along the side. Though with her attention averted, she kept full awareness of the discussion taking place. Nasrin's social akwardness shone through, though it was perhaps accentuated by a haze of inebriation.
As Nasrin mustered up her stutter of a reply, Manju lowered her spear to her side and looked at the robed merchant, hand on her own hip. She began smirking at the minor quarrel, but that soon evolved into a glare when things got uglier. But the threat was the final nail in the coffin. That jerk crossed the line. In an act of compassion for her comrade who just suffered loss, Manju leapt between the two and snarled at Gao.
"'ey! Look, bub. She jus' lost 'er friend and joo yell at 'er?" Her tone was laced with a growl, her features curled into a fearsome face as both hands grasped the short shaft of her weapon, "'ow's 'bout I jab dis into your gut, ya jerk?"
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Post by mulaqi on Jul 26, 2007 1:23:00 GMT -5
His new back secured across his back, Muqali had walked with the others out of the city, but when they exited he did not immediately part ways. Instead, he stood and watched the exchange Nasrin was having with the merchants curiously. So, she wasn’t going to escort them back, then. Did she have somewhere else she needed to be, or was she just burning a few bridges? Regardless of what she was going to do next, however, Gao’s last statement made Muqali feel nothing but a sudden contempt for the man. His lips moved into a scowl and he was about to intervene when Manju did it for him.
"'ey! Look, bub. She jus' lost 'er friend and joo yell at 'er?" The Igni snarled, brandishing a weapon. "'ow's 'bout I jab dis into your gut, ya jerk?"
Muqali moved quickly, making it to Manju’s side in two swift strides and placing a hand on her weapon. Anger was written all over his features as well, but to meet threats with more threats could not end well. Violence was not called for, or advisable, not in this situation.
“Easy,” he said, looking at Manju. “We don’t want all the effort we put into saving these people to go to waste.”
Of course, it wasn’t mere effort that Muqali was referring to. The other sandbender had died rescuing these men, and inciting violence with the ones that he had died to save would not honor his memory. Nor would it, for that matter, ease the surviving sandbender’s loss, he suspected.
“Glad to see that one of you is sens-” began the merchant before Muqali turned his gaze on him, scowling.
“Enough! She saved your lives less than a day ago! She’s earned her money. You have no right to treat her like that, and you definitely don’t have the right to threaten her,” he snapped. “And another thing: if there are any among us to blame for people looking down on us, it’s people like you. Money grubbing, selfish, dishonorable snakes! You are not even a man, much less a man of the Si Wong.”
“Insolent rat!” spat Gao. “I will…”
Muqali cut in again, “You won’t do anything at all unless you want to become an enemy of the Kiyad Tribe. Now get moving. It’s a long walk to the desert.”
Gao glared back at Muqali, but this time said nothing. The Kiyad was not the most powerful tribe in the desert, but powerful enough that a mere merchant would not dare make an enemy out of them. Unless Gao was a complete idiot, which was entirely possible, he would back off. At least, back off until he thought he was under the protection of someone stronger than the Kiyad, unlikely as it may be. After a couple moments of silent glowering, Gao turned around and motioned his caravan forward. Within a few moments, they were slowly leaving sight, marching west over the hills that surrounded Omashu. After a moment, Muqali let out a relieved sigh and turned, grinning lopsidedly to his two would be companions.
“So, where you guys headed?”
Really, the words “you guys” should have been replaced with “we”, because between the guilt of inadvertently being a cause in the other sandbender’s death and Gao’s threat to the surviving sandbender, he had essentially decided he was going to stay with these two for a while. How long? He wasn’t quite sure. Hell, he wasn’t quite sure if they wanted him to come. Even so, one thing was certain: he didn’t want to go home to the desert quite yet.
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Post by nasrin on Jul 27, 2007 22:46:28 GMT -5
Nasrin was fairly surprised when Manju jumped to her defense. Sticking her spear dangerously close to the fuming merchant leader, she seemed quite ready to diembowel the man on Nasrin's behalf. The gesture was almost touching, though she didn't think it entirely necessary. Sure, Gao was outraged (who wouldn't be at the prospect of traversing the Si Wong desert without a capable guide and defender?, but if he was stupid enough to actually trade blows with a sandbender while he was sitting on a patch of dirt then he was even more foolish than he sounded.
The heavily-bandaged woman merely continued to stare at the ground, drawing a seemingly random pattern in the earth with her toe. She really didn't care to speak with any of the merchants right now. At that point, Muqali stepped in and likely averted some bloodshed.
Nasrin still hadn't even bothered to turn her head as she listened to Muqali berate the merchants and send them off with a threat of rallying his tribe. She almost allowed a smile to cross her cloth-covered mouth. Something about Gao's somewhat disgraceful exit seemed to cheer her up ever so slightly. Not that she had been feeling particularly depressed before hand, even though the other Si Wong native seemed concerned for her emotions in defnding her, but it made her reasonably certain that she could accept his company.
“So, where you guys headed?” Muqali asked her and Manju after the merchants had started on their way back toward the Desert.
Nasrin finally stopped drawing lines in the dirt and glanced up, though her eyes still avoided the slightly younger man. She really had nothing to say in response. Without her connections in the desert and a boss to provide her with assignments, she really had no specific aspirations of her own. She was a sand sailor in a sandstorm. She let the Winds decide her course and simply adjusted her sails. It was how she always operated, and she felt no impetus to change that habit now.
Not saying a word in response, she merely glanced at the other two and waited for one of them to suggest a heading.
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Post by manju on Jul 28, 2007 19:46:51 GMT -5
Manju placed her hand on her hip and shifted her gaze between the two sand nomads. She held what was most decidedly the least knowledge of the Earth Kingdom continent, and she assumed either of the two desert-dwellers would know where to go. Nasrin took forever in speaking up, though. The depression must have gotten to her. All she did was act forlorn and dejected, even though she had every right to do so. Manju rocked back and forth on her heels as the silence was prolonged, waiting for someone to suggest something fun to do. Surely Nasrin would know of something. After all, she lived in the Earth Kingdom her whole life, and therefore would know where to go.
But as it dragged onward slowly and agonizingly, Manju sighed. The gloomy lack of sound had gone on long enough, and the Igni had to speak up before she went insane. She stroked her chin as her face contorted into a pensive appearance, but her first response was rather dull and uninteresting. Shrugging her shoulders, she said "I dunno..."
"Some place where we can 'ave a good time, of course. I wanna go sight-seein', joo two."
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Post by mulaqi on Jul 31, 2007 14:21:48 GMT -5
Muqali couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as the sandbender remained mute. He’d thought she might have a destination in mind when she quit, but now it was looking more like a spur of the moment decision. Manju seemed to have no destination either, although on the upside she seemed to be including him in their little group. It looked like it was up to him, to decide where to go, then. Absent mindedly picking at his teeth, Muqali thought back on his journey to Omashu, trying to remember if Yunchang or the other soldiers had mentioned any locations. Unfortunately, to the best of his memory, most of the homesick soldiers had been focused on Omashu. Suddenly, he remembered what Yunchang had said right before they parted ways. They were going to head south, where apparently there were some Earth Kingdom towns. If they headed that way, they could at least ask around about other destinations and such.
“Well, I heard there are some Earth Kingdom towns to the South that don’t have to worry about the Fire Nation,” Muqali said finally. “East is the desert, west is Omashu, and North is probably now Fire Nation territory, so we should probably head that way, anyway.”
Of course, Muqali had absolutely no idea what was between here and those towns, but he wasn’t concerned. After all, he’d seen desert, forest, rivers and mountains. What type of landscape was there even left to see?
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Post by nasrin on Jul 31, 2007 18:28:42 GMT -5
The sandbender swung her hands forward and forced herself up into a standing position. There she stood, shoulders slouched and head drooping forward for a moment, as she listened to Muqali's suggested heading.
Nasrin heaved a sigh as she corrected her posture and scratched absently at her nose. Casting one last glance at the other desert-dweller and Manju, she offered a slight shrug and then started along a path that would take them around the mountains toward the South. "We better get behind these mountains by daybreak," she called back as she went, her voice deadpan and very matter-of-fact, "Else the Fire Nation will be on our trail."
The path ahead was one of uncertainty, and even with the aid of two knew 'friends' Nasrin figured she'd be feeling quite out of place for a while. And yet, despite the way her world had changed quite drastically in the last 24 hours, she had to admit it was starting to get interesting...
Almost enough for her to start caring.
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