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A/N: After a very long wait, here is chapter 9: Heresy - beta'ed version :)
Darkness.
He was surrounded by darkness, yet he was distinctly aware of the presence of others – too many others to count. They crowded around him, making it difficult for him to breathe; all of them facing away in silent reprimand. Wide eyed and nearly petrified, he stood; lost amongst a sea of former lives. He knew all of them but recognized none as they surrounded him; the circle of Avatars keeping him imprisoned and very much in the dark of his own mind.
"Why? Why have you all forsaken me?"
His cry sounded piteous, but he did not care. He felt at once both isolation and despair from their refusal to face him. In a fit of childish rebellion, he wanted to cry out once again that it wasn't fair. He was just a boy, and yet even his own past lives held him to a standard that most grown men would not be able to keep.
But for the life of him, he didn't know what he had done to earn their scorn.
There must have been something (there was always something) which led them to ostracize him like this. If not, why would they not even look at him, let alone speak to him?
He felt very much like a child (and he was not a child).
He wanted to cry.
The circle around him suddenly parted; creating a small illuminated path that cut through the darkness and the faceless Avatars. They still refused to look at him, but he didn't care - why should he care about them when they didn't even have the fortitude to face a thirteen year old boy? But he didn't have any time to dwell on it, since at the end of the newly created path stood an old fire bender with a long, pointed beard, a slightly aquiline nose and piercing yellow eyes filled with the wisdom of a century of life.
He knew this one personally and the disapproving look in the old fire bender's eyes affected him far more than the silent rejection of the others.
"Avatar Roku?"
"You have disappointed us, Aang."
The words, while gently spoken, cut through him like the edge of a finely sharpened blade. They hurt and confused the young Avatar, who did not know exactly what he had done to earn such disfavor.
"I-I don't know what you mean," he stuttered, backing up a couple of steps if only to escape the condescension he was receiving from his own self.
"We have tempered the demon for thousands of years – only bringing it forth under strict control to help maintain balance for all. And yet, you give it free reign for the sake of one."
Roku's words echoed loudly inside the darkness, gaining momentum with each syllable until Aang couldn't stand it. He fell to his knees before those who would judge him, unable to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.
"I'm sorry… but I needed to protect her."
Around him, the visages of lives that he lived and yet could not remember slowly disappeared until just the two them remained. Aang forced himself to meet the fire bender's eyes, and when he did he found that they had softened.
"You need to protect everyone, Aang. Not just one."
Roku's voice was beguiling and pleading and silently Aang nodded in acquiescence. He felt the impression of a calloused hand on his shoulder and then it was gone, along with the spirit of Avatar Roku. He was alone again, as he always had been and perhaps, always would be.
Perhaps always should be.
'Not just one…'
But the deepest part of his rebellious heart did not want to believe it.
His first reaction was to look around to try and find the family of platypus bears that must have trampled over him. But the only thing that Sokka could see - after blinking his eyes several times - was the wide expanse of forest around him and Appa, who looked almost worst than he did.
He groaned and then let out a nearly inaudible 'oomph' as Momo jumped on his chest, appearing out of nowhere. The small lemur leaned over him and gazed at him with large, curious brown eyes.
Out cold and haphazardly scattered around the forest floor lay a few of Koru's groupies; ones that remained after –
Sokka paused as his memories started catching up with him.
After Aang had screamed.
Vaguely, he remembered clapping his hands over his ears in an effort to keep his eardrums from shattering - the air bender's scream had been nearly deafening in both pitch and intensity. The worst part about it was that he had absolutely no warning at all that Aang was going to do that, nor any knowledge that the young Avatar even possessed that ability. He wondered if the ability to knock people unconscious with voice alone was something inherent to all air benders and if so, he suddenly understood exactly why the fire nation had found an otherwise peaceful people so very dangerous.
Groaning out loud, he jumped to his feet, the sudden action throwing Momo to the ground. Sokka kept his bone dagger at the ready just in case one of Koru's men was feigning unconsciousness as he stumbled over to Appa and poked the unconscious beast in the side with the blunt end of his dagger. When he did not succeed in waking the flying bison the first time, he repeated the action until finally Appa responded with a loud wail and a snort.
After that, and with a great effort, the bison got to his feet and shook himself - knocking over a small tree in his disorientation.
"Easy, big guy."
Sokka rubbed his hands in Appa's fur in an attempt to reassure the beast, feeling that the gesture – while of good intent – was a bit hypocritical, since he himself was no where near calm.
His whole body ached and he was in no condition to go running through the woods after Koru (not that he even remembered which direction the bastard had taken his sister) and had to rely on faith that Aang would bring her back safely.
Except that Aang wasn't known to have much control over himself when his Avatar spirit was holding the reigns, and the way the boy had looked right before he screamed was instense and almost frightening.
Sokka's mind kept going back to the time when Aang had discovered the remains of his mentor Gyasto, remembering how in his fury, his Avatar spirit had nearly taken out the entire temple and them with it. It was only his sister's reasoning that had brought the Avatar back to himself and that had been when he was fully awake and conscious.
Would Katara be able to reach the 'Aang' inside the Avatar when the boy had been drugged? He did not know, nor did he care to think of the possible consequences if she could not.
Almost anything – anything at all could have happened, yet the only thing that he could do was to sit and wait. And patience had never been one of his virtues.
Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long before Aang came bursting through the top of the trees; landing before him rather clumsily and abruptly. In the air bender's arms was his sister; flitting in and out of consciousness and obviously in a whole lot of pain.
Sokka was so fixated on Katara that he didn't even think to evaluate Aang's condition. Instead, he found himself wordlessly taking Katara from the silent Avatar. It was only after he had Katara safely in his own arms that he stopped and looked at Aang.
The air bender's face was expressionless; his eyes still an incandescent blue. His chest was covered with a dark red, sticky fluid that could only be blood, the source of which seemed to be a small dagger still firmly embedded in the Avatar's chest.
Instinctually, Sokka found himself recoiling at the sight and a sense of numbness set in even before he could even process exactly what he was seeing. After a moment, his mind caught up with his eyes, making him wish that it hadn't. He had seen knife wounds before, but never one that close to the heart – and that it was in the chest of his friend made it ever so much worse. Yet the Avatar himself seemed entirely unconcerned about the wound; his incandescent gaze was focused soley on Katara. And then, after a silent moment that seemed to stretch on forever, Aang's eyes closed and he fell to the ground in a heap at Sokka's feet.
Panic set in with a vengeance. He knew Katara could help heal Aang, but not when she was slipping in and out of consciousness herself. And to make matters worse, he could have sworn that he had just heard a moan come from one of Koru's supposedly unconscious men.
Fate honestly and truly hated him.
Thinking fast, he shook Katara lightly in his arms, hoping to wake her.
"Katara… c'mon Katara, wake up. Katara, you have to wake up! Aang's hurt really bad and we have to get out of here!"
She mumbled and groaned and threw her head back slightly, but did not respond. Behind him, he could distinctly hear a shuffling sound as one of Koru's men started to move.
He did not turn around to see who was waking up. Instead, the pitch of his voice rose slightly in his urgency to bring his sister back to consciousness..
"Katara, please wake up! Aang needs you," Sokka pleaded while gently cradling the girl in his arms.
She opened her eyes and sucked in a hissing breath between her teeth, followed by a painful whimper as she instinctively tried to move her arm, drawing his eyes to it. With a grimace, he noticed that it was at an odd angle and knew that the bones needed to be reset.
There was only one way to do that, and her water bending wouldn't help.
He hated the very idea of causing her any more pain, but they needed to get out of there and he needed her help. Grinding his teeth slightly from nerves, he placed her on her feet and quickly sought the forest floor for an adequately sized branch. As he did this, he peripherally noticed that the only thing left of Jin – the earth nation assassin who served Koru – was a slight disturbance on the forest floor where he once lay.
The knowledge that it was Jin who was awake and hiding somewhere close by made his blood run cold.
Still, he somehow managed to remain focused on his task while remaining constantly alert for any suspicious sounds or movements. But the only thing that he could hear was Katara whimpering softly, which only added to his anxiety and sent his search for an adequate branch into a frenzy.
Katara was fully awake and stumbling over to Aang's side. He could not see the tears falling down her face, but he could hear her soft, piteous cries. And yet there was nothing he could do to reassure her.
Finally he found a small branch that he would have normally used for kindling and quickly stripped the bark off of it. Glancing all around to ensure that they were still alone, he approached Katara silently.
"Katara, stand up. Let me help you and then we'll get Aang to the water, I promise."
His sister turned to look at him; her bright blue eyes haunted and bloodshot, leaving him to wonder exactly what the hell had happened. But there was no time for speculation – they had to act fast if they were going to save Aang, and apparently she understood the urgency as well, for she nodded and held out her injured arm with her mouth set into a grim line.
In that moment, he was truly proud of her.
Bracing himself for what he had to do, he held the stripped piece of wood in front of her face.
"Bite down."
Once it was in place and he was satisfied that she wasn't going to bite off her tongue from the pain, he firmly grabbed her injured arm with both hands; one on either side of the elbow. The warning was unnecessary - she knew as well as he did that it was going to hurt - but it made him feel a bit better by giving it.
"This is really going to hurt. Ready?"
She glared at him and mumbled something around the piece of wood that sound suspiciously like 'just do it'.
He had to admire at the bravery she possessed when his own arms were trembling.
"Okay… On the count of three. One… Two…"
With a carefully applied bit of pressure, Sokka swiftly snapped her forearm back into the socked of her elbow, sending a silent thank you to Aang for nearly bursting his ear drums since the persistent ringing in his ears managed to mask a part of Katara's resounding scream.
But only a small part of it.
Still, it was over… her arm was restored enough to be of use to her once again. The rest of her injuries – the sore muscles and tendons – she could perhaps heal herself, once they reached the water. Although he was not entirely sure that her healing abilities were quite that advanced, the thought gave him a moment of peace.
Knowing that time was of the essence, Sokka in a commanding voice ordered her to help him bring Aang over to Appa.
And for once, she didn't argue.
The Bison was cooperatively keeping his head near the ground, which made it easy for Katara to climb atop his head. Once she was situated, Momo chattered worriedly and joined her. His sister and the lemur looked down at him as he hoisted an unconscious Aang onto his shoulders. Wordlessly, Katara reached down and grabbed the back of Aang's tunic with her good arm and tugged, falling backwards on Appa's head and allowing gravity to assist her with the task. After a little struggling, the two of them managed to get Aang firmly situated on top of Appa's head without aggravating his injury, and into the relative safety of Katara's arms.
Sokka was not surprised when he felt the vibrations of the knife as it whizzed past his head and firmly embedded itself into Appa's front leg. For the great bison the wound was nothing, but still it stung and Appa let out a great howl. Sokka immediately jumped backwards, dagger in one hand and boomerang in the other, knowing very well that Appa wasn't the target.
Jin had missed his head by mere centimeters. What's more, he did so intentionally; just to get Sokka's attention. And now the earth nation assassin stood not ten feet away, glaring at him with his face contorted in an expression of hate.
"Go – just go; get Aang to the beach and do what you can for him. I will meet you at the beach in an hour."
There was no room for debate in his voice.
"But—"
"Katara, just go! Appa – Yip Yip!"
And with that, the great bison was up and off; bursting through the treetops above them and sending loose leaves and branches scattering down upon both him and his adversary.
The eerily calm look the tall Jin leveled at him sent a small chill down his spine, letting him know in no uncertain terms that if he did not win this battle it would mean his death. But Sokka was prepared for this kind of a fight and had been for a long time. True, he was not covered in the traditional war paint of his people but that made him no less of a water tribe warrior. And while Jin might not be a member of the fire nation – the water tribe's sworn enemies – he did represent a group whose leader intended to separate his sister from him. That was reason enough for Sokka to fight.
The adrenaline that coursed through him kept him alert and aware. He didn't even see the knife as it left the assassin's hand and yet he still managed to roll to the right to avoid it, dropping down almost to the ground before evenly hopping to his feet in a move that would have been worthy of any Avatar. And then Jin was gone; having disappeared from his sight.
Sokka took in a deep breath and focused on the air around him, searching for any disturbance at all. A little breeze from behind had him spinning around just in time to throw his arms up to block a kick aimed straight for his head, yet he was not quick enough to counter the punch sent towards his gut soon after. He retaliated with a jab of his own dagger aimed at the other boys shoulder, but missed.
They traded a number of blows, each blocking some, each landing some, before Jin pulled away briefly and regarded him with furious brown eyes.
Blood was spattered across the Jin's face; his normally straight nose looked bent and Sokka had a brief moment to wonder 'did I do that to him?' before the older boy scowled and spat at the ground.
Sokka's boomerang felt heavy in his hand as the assassin began to speak.
"Water peasant scum – your water bender is a whore and your Avatar; a useless child. And yet, because of them, I have learned that our leader is now dead."
"What? When – how?" Sokka asked. He didn't really expect an answer, however – the murderous look in Jin's eyes told him all too well that no explanation would be forthcoming.
But somehow, during the time when he first heard the other boy rustling upon the ground and after he succeeded in getting his sister and Aang situated on Appa, this Jin had found out what had happened with Koru – probably from another one of his lackeys, since the woods seemed to be littered with them. Or, the other possibility was that he was making it up - but by the look on his face, Sokka highly doubted that was the case at all.
And, like Sokka had expected, Jin ignored his questions.
"I will take your life in return, peasant – not that it could ever make up for the one that was lost."
Sokka threw the boomerang swift and high, praying it wouldn't hit any of the trees. At the same time, Jin lunged for him; his face a vision of malice, and pulled from somewhere within his cloak a small, razor sharp wakizashii.
The older boy was flying at him, and Sokka weekly held his bone dagger in front of him in an attempt to fend off the other boy's sword. His dagger was quickly knocked out of his hand in a move that he couldn't even see and for a brief moment, Sokka was very certain that he was going to die.
Even as the other boy's blade was inches away from his face, his boomerang returned with a vengeance; catching the back of Jin's head at the base of the skull and knocking the older boy out instantly. The earth nation assassin fell to the ground instantly, and Sokka wasted no time in retrieving both his dagger and his boomerang before casting a last nervous glance at Jin, who thankfully was good and out and still not moving.
As an afterthought, he grinned to himself and knelt over the body of the older boy, quickly prying the wakizashii out of the other boy's hand.
"To the winner, go the spoils." Sokka muttered aloud, giving one last glance to the woods that had seen so much in such a small amount of time. He then headed off in a small jog towards the beach; all the while testing the weight of his new weapon in his right hand.
It would have been oh so much worse if Appa had still been too ill to fly.
'Stop thinking about that.'
Katara cradled the precious, unconscious boy against her tightly; noting to herself how very frail he seemed as she carefully carried him to the edge of the water.
Separating the salt from the water wasn't something she was particularly good at, but she succeeded in producing a small amount of fresh water and used it to clean out Aang's wound. Aang's chest rose and fell erratically under the soft pressure of the water while she directed it with a few purposeful gestures of her hands. Little by little, the dark red stain on the front of his tunic faded nto a light pink as the water cleansed the garnment and the wound beneath. She continued this until most of the clotted blood was gone and the wound was as clean as she could get it with his shirt still on and the knife still embedded.
The next bit of water that she bended, she heated with her breath. She was so much better at forming ice and cold water than actually raising the temperature of the water herself, but yet again she found the ability somewhere within her to do what was needed to treat him.
Failure was not an option.
The knife itself was bathed in the warm water before she firmly grabbed it at the hilt and with a quick prayer to the water goddess, she pulled it out. It felt sickeningly like cutting through seal fat, and she had to close her eyes at the unwanted analogy. Once the knife was removed, she tossed it to the side like the accursed thing that it was, and lifted up Aang's shirt, finding it difficult to remember to breathe at the sight of the wound itself; dark, red and angry against the pale, fragile skin of Aang's chest. The knife had been lodged in between a couple of bones in his ribcage and had missed his heart by mere centimeters.
She could save him… she had to.
Healing was a skill that very few water benders possessed and even fewer actually used – mostly because it quickly drained the energy of the one doing the healing. It was not a skill that was used arbitrarily and for wounds greater than a simple burn, great care and skill was required to even attempt it; lest the water bender accidentally expend their own life energy in the process.
Although Katara herself had been able to heal a few light scrapes and burns on occasion, her knowledge of the healing arts were limited and she hadn't even wanted to risk it on her own ankle. Under any other circumstances, she would never even have considered treating such a critical wound as the one that Aang had received.
But it wasn't as if there was anyone else around that could help him.
She had to try – there really was no other alternative, other than to let him - No, she couldn't let him die. Would not let him die. What had happened, what he had done – none of it mattered. He had only been trying to protect her.
Except that it wasn't even him – wasn't the gentle, carefree young Avatar who held such a large part of her heart, but something else. That something else - that god (or demon) inside of him had reacted almost instinctually.
What she couldn't quite understand was why he reacted when he did; why her injury would incite the spirit's wrath and not the injury Aang himself sustained by Koru's hand. What need would the spirit have to protect her? Unless… unless it was reacting to Aang's emotional state, which would have meant that the boy himself was alert and aware and somewhere inside.
Except that Aang would have never taken the life of another. He wouldn't have.
Would he?
No. There was no way that Aang had any knowledge of the crime his Avatar spirit had committed in his body. His movements had been… not natural. Almost like a zombie.
Like a demon.
Aang himself had been unconscious – drugged by Koru himself. He did not know that the older boy had died by his hands. He couldn't know.
And he must never find out.
That silent resolve made, she focused on the task at hand.
Katara's brow was dripping with sweat. She absently wiped it away before focusing on separating the salt from the water again. This alone took much of her energy and she had no idea how she was going to continue.
Breathe.
The water gathered around her hand was cool as she pressed it against the open wound on his chest. She closed her eyes and prayed; unaware that the healing water was mingling with her own tears as they liberally fell from her eyes and onto the boy beneath her. She was almost too afraid to breath, and she didn't know how long she held her hands in place – only that her arms were feeling numb, and her head was dizzy with the intense concentration she focused into her water bending. Vaguely, she realized her own health was being drained; being poured into the boy she loved and that was okay too, because he was her hope and he needed to live.
I will never, ever tell. No one will ever know how Koru died… not even you, Aang.
Her vision started to blur slightly, but still she held on; remaining focused on her breathing and finding that place within her that brought calm.
An indeterminable amount of time passed before she the rise and fall of Aang's evened, and she took a deep breath and looked down at him. Underneath the white glow of her hands, Aang's skin was pallid, clammy and covered with a light sheen of sweat. Katara knew without even looking that the wound had healed, but no amount of water bending could replace the copious amount of blood that Aang had lost.
To one side where she had haphazardly threw it in her haste to heal him, lay the nearly ruined orange and yellow tunic that he always wore. And the incongruous thought that it would be nearly impossible to mend passed briefly through her mind while she tried to steady her shaking hands.
When she felt her consciousness nearly slipping away from her, she released him and fell onto her back on the soft sand next to him. She was numb and almost entirely drained with absolutely no energy left to heal her own injuries – it had all gone into Aang – and her arm was already starting to swell. It would probably be entirely covered in dark purple marks tomorrow, just like her ankle still was, but she could and would live with it.
She turned her head to the side and smiled wanly, one shaking hand reaching out to gently grasp Aang's tattooed forearm. Her thumb brushed across the fragile skin covering the deep blue veins on the underside of his wrist and when she remained absolutely still, she could feel it – his pulse was slightly slow, but it was even; just like the rise and fall of his chest.
He turned his head to look at her, alerting her of his return to consciousness. Katara held her breath until he opened his eyes; releasing it only when she saw his deep black pupils wide amidst a pool of familiar grey. With a small grimace, he rolled to his side and reached over to brush her hair out of her face (she hadn't even been aware that it had fallen to obscure it) and smiled at her warmly.
"You got away from him… did I save you?"
It took everything left inside of her to choke the tears back…
"Yes Aang. You did."
…but somehow, she managed.
They had been through much, the three of them, but yet he had never seen Aang quite so injured. If he were being honest with himself, he knew the air bender's prospects were grim.
And he didn't even want to consider what losing the boy would do to his sister (screw the world).
So it was with great relief that he found them both alive and breathing, but that relief was tempered slightly on further examination. Aang looked nearly as fragile as a rice paper crane. A part of him couldn't reconcile the boy's fragility in his mind; he had always seemed so strong, despite his youth. But he was alive, and for that Sokka sent a silent thanks to the gods.
Katara had the boy's head cradled in her lap as she leaned against Appa's side. She was absently tracing the arrow on his forehead with her fingers as she looked out to sea; her eyes dark, drawn and haunted. It was only when he got closer that he noticed that Aang was sleeping, and Katara was almost in a trance herself, looking very much drained.
He could only imagine what it must have taken out of her to heal the boy and Sokka silently thanked the gods yet again that he still had his sister. It was blatantly obvious that she had put her own health in jeopardy in order to restore Aang's.
For a brief, irrational moment, he wanted to throttle her for it. She shouldn't be putting herself at risk for anyone, damn it. They were all that each other had anymore. Instead, he knelt next to her, feeling his knees sinking into the soft sand.
"Are you okay?"
"No."
Several moments of silence passed.
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
"No."
Another few awkward moments of silence passed in which Momo appeared between them; making urgent noises and looking out towards the sea. Sokka followed the lemur's gaze and blinked. Zuko's ship was coming into view from the other side of the island.
"That's Zuko! Hey Katara, did you guys run into Zuko? What happened out there? One of Koru's men said that –"
Katara cut him off with the coldest look he had ever seen from her and he swallowed. He knew without being told that he wasn't going to hear the story of what had happened in those woods until Katara was good and ready to tell him. Not that he was satisfied with that, but they had been through quite a bit.
For their sakes, he would drop it.
Sokka cleared his throat.
"Okay then. Let's get Aang onto Appa. Where are we headed now, anyway?"
Katara was silent and contemplative for a moment before she answered.
"North."
And so, he spent little time actively searching for either the banished prince or the young Avatar as ordered. Why would he seek them out anyway? He had no desire to further the bastard Admiral's career, and catching either one of the fugitives would do just that.
As for information, he figured he could make something up before he returned to the main fleet. He could spin quite a yarn when put to task.
So instead of following orders, Captain Yin spent his time in Kaffa visiting the many tea houses and run down pubs that littered the sides of the main dirt road that made up the center of the small port city. After enough time had passed to where the Admiral would believe that he had, in fact, investigated the town while still leaving him enough of a window to catch up to the main fleet before they reached the northern Water City, Captain Yin prepared to leave.
By then, he was actually quite happy – his belly was full and warm with the strong ale served amongst the many pubs of Kaffa and he had enjoyed a few hours in the company of some rather endearing local young women (the few gold sovereigns he had pressed into their hands was money well spent).
His exceptionally good mood made him more charitable than normal upon returning to his ship. So when he almost stumbled over a young, vagabond girl curled into a ball on the ground near the docks, he apologized profusely and helped the girl to her feet.
Upon a second look, he found that she was appealing to the eyes, possessing curves in all the right places along with the slightly tanned skin of the people of the earth nation. Her eyes were a deep soulful brown - albeit bloodshot from crying - and her hair looked as if it would be soft to the touch. Yet the girl had obviously suffered many hardships – that much was obvious from both the state of her clothes, to the smudges left from dried tears on her pretty face.
Perhaps it was the alcohol or perhaps it was her young, soft face - or, most likely, a combination of the two - but for some reason Captain Yin found himself taking pity upon the girl. And so with a bright smile he offered the girl an opportunity to improve her station in life – as a concubine upon his ship.
The girl regarded him with a calculating look that startled him and almost (but not quite) made him reconsider his offer, but at a second glance, her eyes were pleasingly vacant. She smiled at him, showing a mouth full of straight white teeth that were a little too perfect for a simple peasant; making her all the more appealing. And then, shyly, she grasped his hand and stood; nodding enthusiastically at his offer.
He smiled (because he was a charitable man and he had done a good thing) as he led the young girl onto his ship. He asked her his name, and with a small giggle that sounded just a tad forced, she whispered it into his ear.
In response, he placed his hand on her nicely curved backside and gave it a gentle squeeze.
'After all', he thought, 'she has a nice form and is working for me now. I'm entitled to appreciate it.'
"Well, Miss Juri, I'm sure it is going to be quite an adventure to have you on board."
He did not see the small, calculated smile on her lips as she responded.
"Of that, Captain, I have no doubt."
Also, consider everything that happened pass episode 14 as AU. I had planned to give Katara limited healing abilities even prior to "The Deserter", because it just seemed like a natural talent to go hand in hand with water bending, and I am pleased to see that it became a canon reality. But, in my story, the meeting with Jhong Jhong never happened; instead, healing is a skill she picked up (but has not yet mastered) by watching the other water benders in her tribe as the child.
Again, thanks so much for your patience. I hope you all like the chapter and reviews are very much appreciated (and will earn everyone a virtual cookie). :)
