Chapter Text
Sokka’s earliest memory was the snow. White was never a foreign colour to him. He knew the tiny falling water that became heavy when it fell on the ground and the sense of numbness his skin felt when he was out in the cold for too long. The snow reminded him of home… while fire reminded him of family.
Ever since he was young, they sat around the dying embers of the lit fire and spoke of battles, sacrifices, heroes and damsels in distress.
That’s how he knew, at the age of three, that he wanted to be a warrior.