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the small things ততততত
It took the two an embarrassingly long time to find any form of a market. There is no telling how long they had wandered around aimlessly, in fact, Hika was starting to give up hope.
It's almost as if the Northern Water Tribe was made to spite Hika entirely. She's not sure that one thing has gone right, and if something had actually been for her better interest, it was when Hika was back at their place of stay, where she just about forgot she was in such a cumbersome place.
"If this ain't about the worst luck," Hika begins, a frown twisting on her face as her vibrant eyes snag on a similar structure. All of the North Poles superfluous decorations on the buildings, statutes, and gratuitous fountains appear to be a copy of the next.
Sokka scoffs beside her, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks to the top of the buildings surrounding them, the accents of wood and decals of such skillfully crafted structures swallowing him. He must not be used to it yet. Part of his wonder towards the buildings makes Hika wonder what his village really looked like.
She pictures it in her mind, yet shakes the image from her head as she listens to him.
"I kind of like walking around." He draws, finally resting his eyes forward as he accelerates his pace to match Hikas.
She frowns at this. Sometimes she'd catch people having to fasten their stride or jog to catch up with her. She assumes it's due to her longer legs, but perhaps it's at the fault of habitual paces formed by her need for urgency in simple tasks.
Sokka continues. "Plus, I'm sure we'll find the store soon. It's not like we've been walking in circles-"
"-We have."
Sokka's legs betray him. Well, he himself stops in his tracks, but he nearly stumbles over his own feet as he ticks his chin in. "Huh?"
Hika raises her eyebrows, lips straight as her shoulders sink. Really? You didn't notice that we walked past this fountain three times now?
Some part of Hika sympathizes for Sokka. He was a smart boy, but he lacks a more. . . sensible side.
She nods behind her, "That road there leads to the stables where Appa's stayin' in." Hika shoves her hands in her pockets— she twists the coins she holds in the pockets between her gloved fingers and thumb, a habit she is unaware of—, face remaining flat as her bangs blow just enough to where they fall back in front of her eyebrows with near perfection. The rest of her hair was pulled back in the pigtails that were held by two of Katara's hair ties.
She still hasn't let the girl touch her hair since. Hika is perfectly sure that if Katara were to try that again she's nearly shut down. That, or Katara would get punched in the stomach.
