The look younger-Sokka is giving older-Sokka now is -- not quite blatant hero-worship, it's tempered with worry and empathy and admiration. And the vague hope of 'one-day-I'll-be-like-you'.

And a faint smirk.

"It is pretty," he points out, flicking a patch of snow from the back of his hand. "The yellow -- blonde."

Weird word.