Sokka was busily reloading his shotgun, his ridiculous aviator sunglasses dangling around his neck on the lanyard he'd attached to them.

"Katara! Good, you're okay!" He smiled, a bit relieved, as always, that his sister had made it out okay. He didn't know what he'd do if something happened to her. What would dad say? He glanced down at Booth, then knelt down to look at his injury.

"Hold still, you're hurt. Hey, Katara, come take a look at this." He rummaged in his vest, pulling out a pack of gauze bandages.