She yelps, makes a snatch for the blankets as he yanks them free . . . but fails. And suddenly there she is, on the bed, exposed.
. . . Well, nothing looks wrong, anyway. After all that, one might have expected her to have grown wings or developed scales. But no. It's just Toph.
Except her body language is wrong. Slowly pushing herself to a sitting position, she looks small. And while the set of her jaw is defiant, every other line of her speaks of upset, and her lips are pressed together so hard that the corners of her mouth furrow. She sits, pulling her legs close to her, wrapping her arms around them.
"Fine, I'm here. What do you want?" Her voice is flat, though that same thread of defiance that's revealed in the set of her jaw runs through it.
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. . . Well, nothing looks wrong, anyway. After all that, one might have expected her to have grown wings or developed scales. But no. It's just Toph.
Except her body language is wrong. Slowly pushing herself to a sitting position, she looks small. And while the set of her jaw is defiant, every other line of her speaks of upset, and her lips are pressed together so hard that the corners of her mouth furrow. She sits, pulling her legs close to her, wrapping her arms around them.
"Fine, I'm here. What do you want?" Her voice is flat, though that same thread of defiance that's revealed in the set of her jaw runs through it.