[Katara gives Ikki an absent pat on the head, smoothing the surface of the girl's hair down with her free hand-] That's good, Ikki. [-while not looking away from disturbingly familiar eyes.

Aang's coloring. Clearly he grew in to those cheekbones. Sokka's taste in beards. The shape of his eyes were Aang's, and she didn't know who to blame that nose on - long and straight and patrician - Hakoda, maybe, but she hadn't seen her father in, no - those were her eyes. A few shades lighter, maybe, but blue as any of the Water Tribe.

Oh.

She's not sure what she's feeling right now, as she continues to stare at him. Nothing at all? This is her son--

--something in her heart breaks a little at that and no no no no--

Moon and stars, he's old. How old is he? She'd thought by Ikki and Jinora's age that he'd be in his twenties, maybe his thirties, but look at those lines around his eyes.

At least he knew Aang longer--

No. No, no, no.

This isn't right. This is wrong.

"You're supposed to hug now."

All right, all right. For the sake of a child - for the sake of her family.

Breathe.]

Well, I never thought I'd meet you like this. And I imagine you thought the same.

[And we are going to Talk later.]

But I think we're supposed to hug now.

[Or maybe not, because it's not his fault. It's not. It's not his fault.

...this is her son?

Her son.

Moon and stars, she feels faint.]