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*

Katara is not as young as she used to be.

She flew across the known world with all of her friends, and championed for the weak, and fought, and loved, and buried those who loved her.

Often as possible, Katara spoke of hope during the worst of the turmoil. She never lost hope.

She came home.

Where the bitter-cold turns dry and windy, and seabirds gather in packs, and where the dying light pillars high above the South Pole in glows of quicksilver centered and haloed in layers of rubies and ambers and violets.

Katara waits outside her tent-flap for the bursts of shimmery gossamer green flashing within the blackness. It seems less empty now that she's older.

As very small girl, perhaps no older than seven, Katara had been terrified of the night sky. All of its mysteries and darkness.

Staring up had came with the realization of being vulnerable and unimportant for such a great wide world.

But, in the end, the blackness, and all of its wonders, had been calling to her. Telling her to seek out adventures. Telling her that Katara would become greater than she ever dreamed she could be as a waterbender and as a woman coming into her own.

Her tribespeople settle in, wishing her well as they pass Katara by, going into their homes to light their fires.

Katara wishes them the same, benevolent and mindful, staring off into the distance. A creature, immense, white like new snow, bounds right to her.

Naga howls in her excitement, lolling out her tongue and playfully jumping on her front paws.

"Oh my, hello," Katara chuckles, petting Naga's fur. "It's been a while."

"Master Katara!"

Korra, wearing their traditional pelts and blue-dyed cloth, takes a leap during her run.

She slows herself at the very last instant, turning herself and Katara in a semi-circle before giving her a hug.

Naga ruffs as she purposely noses Korra's side.

Katara catches a glimpse of her — much taller, broader and grown out of her awkward, clumsy stages — and hugs Korra back. Korra murmurs Katara's name this time. She grasps one of Katara's hands in her own, lovingly pressing it to a warm, brown cheek.

"I've missed you …"

Katara feels a swelling in her heart, and a hot, sudden prick in her eyes, fondly reminded of Aang. His words echoing on Katara's mind after being separated for a time .He would brush her knuckles against his cheek, as a gleeful Korra does now.

(She's her own Avatar, proud and defiant. Aang is gone. He lives on in both of them.)

"And I have missed you, Avatar Korra…"

*