Out on the wall.

He didn't want to talk to Katara and he doubted she even wanted to look at him at this point. He couldn't talk to Mel or Zuko - not about marriage, not about what Katara wanted to do. He wasn't going to search out Paige when he was the last one to speak. He said his piece and she knew what he wanted. He would wait for her.

She was worth waiting.

So he's out from the apartments now, up on the wall, boomerang and club at his back, knife at his belt. He's not surveying, though, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He's just looking up at the sky, the dark, thick clouds.

This isn't the Southern Tribe, with its stars and its icy, clean winds, the flurry of snowfall. But somehow... it could be home.