Chapter Text
For the first time in months, Zuko doesn't feel like he's slowly dying. He's been able to get some actual rest on this boat — none of these peasants have the strength or energy to attack. It's a good thing, because he doesn't either.
His bedroll on the deck isn't comfortable, but it beats sleeping on the back of an ostrich-horse. He hopes that ostrich-horse is okay. The people he left her with seemed like they'd take care of her.
Uncle's entertaining himself well enough, chatting with the other prisoners refugees like he's one of them, flirting with women and driving everyone crazy with his dumb advice. Zuko's trying to tune him out, eating his portion of the food he and Jet stole liberated.
Across the room, Jet's gathering up empty bowls — ahem, hiding the evidence. He grins over his shoulder at Zuko.
"We didn't make a bad team, did we?" he says, sitting down crosslegged across from him. His dark eyes glitter in the light coming from the lanterns.
"No," Zuko says, looking down at his bowl. "We didn't."
*
Uncle gets a cup of tea from the tea cart in the station; he complains that it's cold, but Zuko manages to stop him before he can firebend it hot again (because that's just the kind of stupid thing Uncle would do in a public place).
Unfortunately for Uncle, stopping him without attracting suspicion from their companions requires accidentally knocking the cup to the ground. Zuko steadfastly ignores Uncle's betrayed look.
Jet offers Zuko a place in his group. Zuko declines. He ignores the other boy's disappointed look too, and looks away as Jet returns to his friends.