“ Don’t stray too far, dear.”

The tiny three year old nodded quickly at her kneeling mother as she fidgeted slightly at her mother adjusting the thick, furlined, parka hood. Giving the little girl a pat on the head, she took this as a sign to go off into the snow and play.

Small legs stumbled within the thick, layered, snow of the ice cap that was their home. It was summer, so it wasn’t as heavy as it was during the winter season, allowing the three year old to have less trouble enjoying herself without need of her family. She knelt down, gathering snow in her hands, forming the ice and slush into small balls in her hands.

Her father and brother were out with two other men of the village hunting for food to supply the village for the upcoming week – Something that was not out of the ordinary for her mother. The young girl was too young to even notice, just knowing that when they came back, they came back looking dirty with furry things hanging from their shoulders. It had smelled, but when her mother took the ‘furry things’ it then would smell good; and taste very delicious. Salty, but sweet, a twist of flavors that would always set her apart from the rest of the women of the village.

The young girl momentarily stopped her snowball creations to look at the rest of the village. Older children played in the snow while the older women walked around with their teenaged granddaughters, telling them of days of old. Mothers walked around with baskets of food, and the men taught their sons the meaning of being a man.

It was a small village, but it was full of life.

“ Black… snow?” a young girl asked herself as she held her hand out, capturing the black ice that had fell from the sky. The old woman, standing next to her, gasped in shock. She grabbed her hand, yanking her closer to her hunched frame.

“ Come , child! We must go home.”

“ But-!” She is unable to finish her sentence as she is pulled by the woman back to their hut.

The young three-year-old girl watches the sky in amazement. One, two, three… and then the sky is falling with black, soft, snow. Black snow with a odor that she had never smelt before. It was sharp, yet light, and it wasn’t natural. When a flake fell on her face, it had felt thick and grimy. She brought a glove hand to her face and it smeared on her cheek. A black smudge mark. Soot.

“ Katara!” Her mother screams as she runs towards her daughter. The girl quickly looks at the direction of the voice, barely having time to take in any more information of the black snow. The woman picks her daughter up, holding her protectively against her petite frame.

She notices, the three year old, that the village had went from a happy, active, place to one of fear. The children were ushered into their homes by their mothers, fathers took their sons inside to grab weapons of defense, grandmothers took their young granddaughters inside to explain what the black snow was. Within moments, an active village had went dead.

“ Stay here.” She hears her mother say. “ Don’t ever go outside. Not until I come back for you.”

She nods. Their hut, marked to show the home of the Chief, was dark. Light barely creped in through the closed door.

“ Whatever you do. Do not open this door. I will come back for you.”

She nods again. Her mother reaches behind her neck and fiddles with the clasp of the blue choker, taking it off and placing it around her daughter’s neck.

“ I’ll always be with you.” She caressed the smooth stone. “ Always.”

The daughter of the Chief didn’t understand as she stood in that open space of their home. She didn’t understand as her mother went outside, leaving her alone, as she stood there with a hand over her mother’s necklace.

One minute became one hour.

One hour became two.

She was asleep by the second hour. She heard faint yelling, screams, and the sounds of armor -- foreign sounds as she drifted off into a slumber, waiting for her mother to return.

“ Lieutenant.” A man says at the opened door of the Chieftain’s hut. He looks around, observing the ‘barbaric’ furs and artifacts that made up the home.

“ Their leader isn’t here it seems.” The Lieutenant says observantly. “ I would assume that the water bender was his wife.”

“ Yes.”

“ She was protecting something here, she wouldn’t back down.” He took a step in, his armor clanking against each other. Slowly he took steps, cautious, in fear of any traps that may have been placed in the home. Then his attention was directed to the sound of a little girl mumbling in her sleep. “ … I see now.”

“ Sir?” His ensign said as he joined his side.

“ She was protecting this child.”

“ Ah…” He kneels down and looks at his commanding officer. “ Should we kill her?”

The Lieutenant sucked in a breath. It was cold and stung his throat. To kill a child after eradicating every man, woman, and child in this village would have been nothing but… there was something about this child that set her apart from the rest.

“ The mother was a waterbender, correct?” His subordinate nodded. “ She is the daughter of this … barbaric society’s Chief…. She may have some use in the Fire Nation.”

“ What do you mean?”

“ Waterbenders are rare. We’ve practically killed them off. This child here may prove to be a gifted waterbender just because of her bloodline. Don’t you see?” He slowly picked up the slumbering girl, making sure not to wake her. “She may prove to be an asset in finally taking down the tribe to the North.”

“ How so? She’s just a child.”

“ A child that we can easily teach the ideals of this great nation, Ensign. It’s like we have a blank canvas in our arms.”

She scruntches up her nose. The smell of burning flesh and oil was strong, waking the child up. She looks up at the face of a man. He was older, his skin light, his eyes gold, and his hair grey. Her blue eyes go wide and she struggles out of his grasp. He holds her firm as she looks around. There was no ice. There was metal. There was no white. There was black. There was no blue. There was red.

“ Welcome to the Fire Nation, child.” He says in his old, scratchy voice.

She blinks. Confused.

What was she doing here? And why was she here?

“ Where’s mommy?”

The old man blinks, caught off guard. He glances over to the village. The burning village, as the iron ship drifted away. He looks down at his arms and gives her a smile, a sad smile, but still a smile.

“ She’s sleeping, child, she’s sleeping.”

“ Oh… Is she coming too?”
“ No… She can’t. She said for you to come along instead… to give you a better life.” He paused as he went along. To lie to a child about the murder of his mother. How cruel could one be? Then again, how cruel could one be to take her rather than kill her with her family? He would question his subordinate afterwards.

“ Oh.” It seemed she was trying to process the information.

“ What is your name, little girl?”

“ Katara.” He smiled, this time, genuine.

“ Beautiful name.”