Thread: The Spirit Remains (Morton x Zara)

Yue's compassion brought a soft smile to Sorran's face. If the Norther Water Tribe behaved, politically, as the other nations have then her powers, while above the standard citizens and smaller positioned officials, the final say came down to the men. Her opinions were taken into account, but really she was the soft and kind face of the throne in the chieftain structure, the heart. Meanwhile the power of the couple was held by the man. Hopefully Yue's concern would be taken more seriously rather than a kind gesture that will bring comfort to the other officials. His contemplation was interrupted by the arrival to their rooms. He politely waited for Yue to finish before taking the first room in the block for the men, allowing Katara to take the girls room. He stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him. Looking around he found the room to be oddly comforting, the weapons strewn about had him feeling like he was home in his own room. The ones in his room from home were merely replicas, supposedly designed from the account's of the weapons from the heroes of their tall tales. He ran his fingers of the edges of the boomerangs and spears as he inspected them. Dull, as suspected, but he admired the craftsmanship. The small details with the molars on the base of a large knife, the lightweight bone of the pikes and spears, it was impressive. Finally he set down his bag and spear. Feeling safe he began to disarm himself taking the bow off of his back and the quiver along with it, unbuckling the belts that held his sheathed sword, finally he reached inside his long coat and unclasped the small pouches that held his throwing knives. He set each item down with care and made sure that each was not damaged. He set them aside on a dresser and sat down on the soft bed. Feeling the need to remind him of home, now with his goal realized again, he reached for his bag and placed it next to him. He opened it and pulled out a small pouch. He reached to open the clasp on it, but his hand shook in hesitation. With conviction, he unclasped it and reached inside, pulling out small, token, items from within. They seemed like nothing, a small medallion, a bracelet, a piece of cloth, a pin, and a locket. Small nothings to an outsider, but these were the last memories he had of his team... his friends. It is custom from Sorran's home that each warrior had their own item that worked as a marker. If a soldiers mark was unidentifiable in battle these items, each bearing their family's mark, would be used to identify them. Some made them to be arbitrary things, but many had special items to be their marker. His friends had such. The sight of them brought back painful memories, but he felt some of the hurt fade as he knew that their deaths would be for not. Even with all the items out, one remained. Nestled in the bottom of the pouch sat a small stone arrowhead. He took it out and placed it in the palm of his hand, the warmth from his hand heating up the stone. On one side was the mark of his family, the one tattooed over his eye, the other had markings on it. The markings were typical of what the object was, a Hozen. A Hozen and the markings on it were a symbol of reconnection. Sorran made this his marker since he kept it in hopes of reconnecting with his homeland and its people. He clenched it in his fist and closed his eyes, visualizing home.