[ In the time it's taken Korra to read her book, Hei has gotten through at least half of the volumes borrowed from the library. Yet he feels no closer to understanding the concepts of the Avatar than before. Leafing through the pages, his eyes track the words while his thoughts flutter off like seagulls, floating away in flashes of white feathers and restless beats but never straying far. Chakras. Prana. Nerve plexus. Bending. It's all too abstract for him, pages and pages of nonsense. Hei's always been dismally earthbound. He prefers to experience the sights and sounds, to carry experiments with concrete results, good or bad. Everything else is just theories for him; some right, some wrong, but without proof, there's no way to tell. (Not for the first time, he thinks about the City's magic -- its mysteries, its limitations, the composition of it. He can already tell bending isn't similar. But it's not like science, with its concrete laws and time-tested absolutes, either.) ]
[ Snapping a book shut, he rubs his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. Pai has been fed and tucked in; a heavy almost-silence fills his apartment, but it's not disquieting. More... content. In the glow of the bedside lamp, he sees a message blinking on his device. Switches it on, with a dim surprise at Korra's question. ]
[ At length, ]
That ... depends on what's being offered.
[ It's not innuendo, but it skates a perilously thin line. ]
voice;
[ Snapping a book shut, he rubs his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. Pai has been fed and tucked in; a heavy almost-silence fills his apartment, but it's not disquieting. More... content. In the glow of the bedside lamp, he sees a message blinking on his device. Switches it on, with a dim surprise at Korra's question. ]
[ At length, ]
That ... depends on what's being offered.
[ It's not innuendo, but it skates a perilously thin line. ]