sometimes things get smudged in the wild

Pema couldn't help but giggle during his Bumi impression. It was spot-on. They had clearly spent a lot of time together. Her eyes did widen at the mention of the townhouse, though. If it was the place she was thinking of, it had to be worth at least several million yuan.

"You're really too kind," he answered with a smile and slight bow of his head; she wasn't a fighter herself, so he dispensed with the martial artists' salute he usually worked in. "Tell the children I said hello when you track them down. Especially little Rohan."

In truth, he had come here merely to relax away from the hustle and bustle of the recovering city, but thought better of overstaying his welcome. "I've delayed my interview with the Councilman long enough, and I should give the wild man an old school dressing-down about leaving his cigarette butts laying around," he said, trailing off into his Bumi voice with a laugh before collecting himself.

Pema couldn't help but giggle during his Bumi impression. It was spot-on. They had clearly spent a lot of time together. Her eyes did widen at the mention of the townhouse, though. If it was the place she was thinking of, it had to be worth at least several million yuan.

Iroh let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction seeing the task done. He never could have made it to where he was if he wasn't driven beyond all sense, but even he could use a break every now and then, even if he spent it doing chores with a family friend. After the chaos of the battle for the city, something about knocking out small, simple tasks bolstered his resolve to face more complex challenges, like stamping out the last of the Equalists and securing the city for the upcoming elections. Compared to his day job, helping Pema hang the laundry was like a spa day. Heaven and earth, he needed a spa day.

Pema watched him, glad that he had fallen into the open arms of the island just as she had all those years ago. Thanks to the UF, her home was almost completely free of the Equalist's influence now, and was returning to peace once again.

Do you have a rule page?

"And sisters," he repeated with a bow of the head, indulging her 'correction' to one of the venerable classics with an amused grin. It was strange; they were about the same age -he might even have been a year or two older-, but she had such a warm, nurturing presence that it still managed to affect the veteran general. It was a marked contrast with his own mother, loving and supportive in her own way, yes, but severe and demanding and having to split her attention between her family and her government career. He looked back down towards the basket, a hair hastier than he otherwise would.

Pema chuckled at the comment about the kids and the way Iroh purveyed his work. Participating in such a menial task was probably foreign to royalty, but she hoped he was proud. Assisting her without so much as batting an eye did not go unnoticed. The last item in the basket was one of Rohan's onesies. She ran her hands over the soft material thinking about the first days of her youngest's life. That had been one of her and her family's most difficult times, but everyone had made it out alive.

Pema pushed her sleeves up to get to work. She was so used to the kids "helping" her that she wordlessly reached over into Iroh's space without thinking about it to adjust the clothes when he left things a little overlapped. The moment was peaceful until Iroh asked about her family. She froze at first, and then fidgeted to push her sleeves back down over her wrists. It was a nervous habit to hide the scars, a habit that she hadn't quite manged to outgrow despite the fact that twenty years now separated her from that hell.

Iroh suppressed a grimace seeing how she recoiled at the mention of her parents; perhaps those scars were related then. Maybe he'd ask Tenzin another time, but best not to pry for now. He focused on spacing out the laundry like she had silently shown him, watching the line start to sag under the accumulating weight of the soaked clothes. The island was such a peaceful place -bison lowing in their stables, lemurs flitting though the trees, acolytes chanting and meditating- he could feel his nerves recede in spite of Pema's tense reaction, letting his practiced laugh come off more genuine.

Pema breathed mindfully as they stepped from one line to the next to continue hanging clothes. Iroh taking the bait for her stupid joke helped her calm, as did the measured observation in his eyes as he took in the goings on around the island. Iroh's presence was formidable but welcoming, and this was her home. There was no need for her to be worried. She laughed with him about Bumi's antics—there was never a dull moment when her brother-in-law was involved—and watched fondly as he rehearsed the classic line.

The compliment about her children always brought a smile to Pema's face. They really were good kids, even when they acted like little menaces or absentmindedly abandoned her with a week's worth of laundry to cart around. Her smile sombered as Iroh's faded.

Iroh set down the basket at the drying lines and started hanging the items one by one, his pace slow and deliberate. This was not a familiar task for a prince who had grown up in unfathomable luxury, and even as an officer in the field could delegate camp chores to the rankers. He glanced her way periodically to see if she had feedback.

Pema pushed her sleeves up to get to work. She was so used to the kids "helping" her that she wordlessly reached over into Iroh's space without thinking about it to adjust the clothes when he left things a little overlapped. The moment was peaceful until Iroh asked about her family. She froze at first, and then fidgeted to push her sleeves back down over her wrists. It was a nervous habit to hide the scars, a habit that she hadn't quite manged to outgrow despite the fact that twenty years now separated her from that hell.

He was certainly leaning more on his right arm to hoist the laundry. Korra had done a great job healing the burn on his left under the circumstances, but it was still best to leave it be, steadying the basket while his right bore the weight. He followed her on her way to the clothes lines.

The compliment about her children always brought a smile to Pema's face. They really were good kids, even when they acted like little menaces or absentmindedly abandoned her with a week's worth of laundry to cart around. Her smile sombered as Iroh's faded.

@acolyte-acolyfe cont from here

Pema watched him carefully for signs of discomfort. Bumi had told her that Iroh nearly got his arm blown off by an airborne torpedo, but as with most of his stories, she didn't know the veracity of the tale. She nodded in the direction of the clothes lines as she started the way over.