[Katara would interact with that statement - about the elements harmonizing with their people, because that's true in some ways and pretty much fascinating. But then he asks that question. And her hand goes up to her necklace.]
A hundred years. [Pause. There's more to say - about what they did, about what happened. But it's hard to force out of her throat for a moment. Still. She has a feeling he wants to know, and if she's going to ask for his help, he'll need more information... and she doesn't hold back very well.]
My tribe... in the beginning of the war, they came for us relentlessly. They didn't want us to be able to leave, to help anyone else. So they went after the waterbenders. At home, we used to be able to use bending to make our cities - houses and streets and gates made out of snow, all maintained by bending. But the Fire Nation... killed or captured every waterbender in the South Pole.
[She's not looking at him now. So he might not see the look that crosses her face when she thinks of Hama. The pain and grief is personal, and not a history lesson.] That was eighty years ago. When I was born, we still knew what the black snow meant, but the raids had died down... they didn't want to stay in the South Pole, and they didn't see us as of a threat. But they wouldn't let us forget about them either. They'd still come and attack our home, try to keep us in our place.
[Her hand drops to her lap, and she looks up at him, the expression on her face very quiet, and very sure.] I'm the last waterbender of my tribe. And for a long time, there was no one to teach me.
[Action]
A hundred years. [Pause. There's more to say - about what they did, about what happened. But it's hard to force out of her throat for a moment. Still. She has a feeling he wants to know, and if she's going to ask for his help, he'll need more information... and she doesn't hold back very well.]
My tribe... in the beginning of the war, they came for us relentlessly. They didn't want us to be able to leave, to help anyone else. So they went after the waterbenders. At home, we used to be able to use bending to make our cities - houses and streets and gates made out of snow, all maintained by bending. But the Fire Nation... killed or captured every waterbender in the South Pole.
[She's not looking at him now. So he might not see the look that crosses her face when she thinks of Hama. The pain and grief is personal, and not a history lesson.] That was eighty years ago. When I was born, we still knew what the black snow meant, but the raids had died down... they didn't want to stay in the South Pole, and they didn't see us as of a threat. But they wouldn't let us forget about them either. They'd still come and attack our home, try to keep us in our place.
[Her hand drops to her lap, and she looks up at him, the expression on her face very quiet, and very sure.] I'm the last waterbender of my tribe. And for a long time, there was no one to teach me.