[Oh. Well, Sokka's had about enough mayhem, but he won't turn down the opportunity to spend some time with Break.] I should get my club. Can you spare a second?
[He's only a moment, and when he makes it to the door he's got his machete instead of his club.] I'm here. I'm ready. [And he presses the door open, holding it with a foot.] Let's go. Onward, to mayhem, right?
[This can only lead to trouble, right? Sokka takes in a deep breath and smiles.] It's a little warm out, isn't it? But I like the fresh air. There's a nice breeze, too.
If you wrap up in a scarf, it helps. [Not that Break really needs the advice, but hey, Sokka's got it.] Or breathe through your nose -- gives everything time to warm up on the way to your lungs.
Sometimes I wish I could just send a hawk to Gran Gran -- she would know about thirty more ways to help out. [And maybe none of them would work, but Gran Gran certainly would have continued to offer options to Break despite that. (Please note, in the Southern Water Tribe, sometimes the cure is worse than the ailment itself.)]
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