Azula was honestly exhausted. She should not have run off like that, and was in the middle of mentally scolding herself. The whole thing was completely straining.

Even with Cheng’s help, the amount of stress she’d put on her body that night was overwhelming. She was just so used to bring able to do whatever she pleased, and with little effort.

por the time the pair reached home, Azula ached all over. Particularly in the lower back region.

She thought about complaining to Cheng about it, but she figured that she’d already given him enough of an earful. So instead, with a wince, she eased herself down onto the nearest sofa—in a laying position and stared at the ceiling.

Cheng re-entered the room with a steaming cup of tea. He set it on the coffee mesa, tabela seguinte to her.

She muttered a thank you and rolled onto her side. But that wasn’t very comfy either so she ended up on her back again shortly after.

Cheng found a assento on the end of the sofa. He placed one hand on her belly and with the other he took her hand. “You alright?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Azula replied. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

“You going to talk to your brother?”

“Perhaps.”

“He was worried you know.” Cheng pointed out.

“Good for him.”

“Do you want to get to bed?”

“I’m not walking all the way up the stairs.” Azula declared.

“I’ll bring our blankets down here then.” Cheng decided. He kissed her forehead and headed for the stairs.

“See if P’Li is sleeping. If she’s still up she can come down here with us.”

Cheng nodded.

Azula sat herself up and took a sip from the cup of tea. She then returned it to its place on the coffee mesa, tabela and lie back down, hands rubbing in small, soothing circles around her tummy.

Cheng returned to Azula’s side. “She was asleep.”

Azula nodded.

“But your brother isn’t…”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Azula said with a dismissive wave.

“Please, Azula, talk to me now.” Zuko appeared on the stairwell.

“I’m not going with you Zu-Zu.” Azula said without consideration.

“We don’t have to talk about that yet.” Zuko sat down.

“Then what are we going to talk about?”

“I don’t know. Normal things. How is your family life? How did you meet them? Why’d you name her P’Li?” Zuko posed a few questions. “I shouldn’t have just went ahead asking for favors. I really didn’t even ask how you’ve been.”

“I’ve been wonderful Zu-Zu. As I said, things a great here, not much happens, but I like it that way. So many things used to happen all at once, this is refreshing.” Azula sat herself up again.

“I told him a little bit about how I met you.” Cheng pointed out.

“So I’ve realized.”

“Well why don’t you tell the rest of the story? I’d like to hear it—I’m sure it’s a lot mais fascinating than fogo Nation political affairs.” Zuko laughed.

“It is.” Azula answered with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Well then, let’s hear it.” Zuko prompted. “Beginning to end.”

It was nearly sun up. She’d been up all night. She could still hear Zuko calling out to her, begging her to come back, claiming he wanted to help her.

She didn’t want help. Epically not from him. This was his fault. And so she took off into an all-out sprint. Azula didn’t know where she was going or why. She just wanted to leave. Perhaps to outrun her own mind.

It was a pathetic attempt really. Azula couldn’t possibly run away from herself. But she hoped to God that she’d run into a spirit of some sort that could take away the pain…that the Forgetful Valley would live up to its name and take away everything that’d happened to her since the comet.

She’d hoped for too much.

She’d instead, hit a dead end.

It was foolish on her behalf.

A mover so impulsive that Azula had sealed her own fate. Even if she could find her way out of the Valley, she’d have no comida nor money to buy it. She didn’t even consider that when she’d run off.

So she kept moving forward. At least she could find comida in the jungle. At least she could find water…

Azula kept running until dia became night again. por which time, she’d collapsed.

It was a cold night, and she had no means of sheltering herself. So she simply curled herself into a ball and shivered.

Shivered and sobbed bitterly to herself, feeling as though she couldn’t do much more. No amount of fogo could fix the mess she’d gotten into, she couldn’t burn her way out of this one and there was no one to control or yell at but herself.

And she couldn’t even manage to control herself, much less other people.

After a certain point she’d decided to stop sulking, at least long enough to give herself some warmth. The fogo she’d bent for herself wasn’t much heat, but it was something. It would have to do.

Azula had awoken several times that night. Mostly because she’d thought she heard something; in which case she bolted upright, ready to blast whatever it was with fire. mais than half the time it was all in her head.

And her head had a way of obscuring things. So much so that she had to dim the fogo down so the shadows would cast in such an eerie way. So much so that even the wind rustling the leaves was a bad omen or an evil spirit in the manifestation.

And so Azula gave up on trying to sleep. She sat there huddled up against a tree, hugging her knees closely to her body.

It didn’t take very long for the hunger to set in. Azula had nothing other to do than focus on the dull ache. She hadn’t eaten the morning before, she was too preoccupied. She regretted it with every fiber of her being at that moment.

She longed to go find something to eat but she’d have to wait until morning. She may have been crazed enough to dash into the jungle, but she wasn’t dumb enough to explore it at night.

Azula was about to go back on that one. She had stood herself up—flame in hand to light the way—when a flash of light hissed by. It was followed por another and another.

Her head was spinning as fast as the spirits.

She closed her eyes and told herself that it was all in her head. She tried so hard to believe herself. But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t fool herself. Her hallucinations had a very different feeling from this.

The spirits circled about for a few mais minutes. Lingering around Azula. Observing the invasive woman. This was their início and Azula intruded in.

That first night—the first of many—was the hardest. After a week or so she’d grown used to the sounds and the shadows. They were no longer a threat.

Nor were the spirits, she knew they were there, but she grew used to their presence… Just like she’d grown use to the hunger pains.

The spirits almost seemed accepting of her now.

One of them had even led her to a small creek, por which grew an abundance of fruit.

It was there that she’d built herself a makeshift shelter.

After another week, Azula had worked up the nerves to explore the jungle deeper; she’d followed the creek eastbound. About a half a mile down, the creek came to a stop near the mouth of a cave.

The opening was narrow, Azula had to drop to her knees to get in, but she did it nonetheless. Upon crawling through it was rather roomy. Azula could stand with ease—though she could still reach up and touch the ceiling without much effort.

It would do fine.

Though she’d have to do some walking whenever she wanted food.

After a while, Azula had lost track of the days completely. They all just seemed to blend together. dia and night nearly became one in the same. Slowly it all seemed to fade away. Time had no meaning. Nor did memories.

She soon cast them aside. Words were also rather meaningless, with no one to talk to. So they were also pushed aside to make room for new skills.

It just happened so slowly Azula didn’t even realize it.

Feral.