They gravitated towards Zuko whenever the temperature dipped even slightly. At night, he often woke to someone pulling their bedroll towards him, or slipping under his arm, or turning over in their sleep and colliding with his shoulder.
It alarmed him, at first. It had never been a good thing when someone woke him in the dead of the night.
It was strange, then, that he was on the run without Uncle, officially a traitor to his homeland, and for the first time since his mother left, he woke in the night sandwiched between bodies, feeling safe.
(Zuko becomes the group's heat-pack.)
Bookmarked by genericlesbian72
08 Dec 2018