Korra was beautiful, that went without saying.
Her brown skin was flawless, while her crimson eyes carried a warmth that could melt stone.
Her body was tall and plump in all the right places, her obsidian horns swept back elegantly from her brow, her tail twitched behind her in that way dragon tails did.
She looked exactly like the queen she was.
But right now she also looked like she'd just run a marathon through hell.
Her face was slick with sweat. A flush had crept up her neck and cheeks. Her eyes were ringed with exhaustion, like she hadn't slept in a week.
And most jarring of all: she was leaning on a wooden crutch, taking each step with the pained gait of someone whose legs had simply given up on them.
Seeing this pathetic sight, Nuri shot across the room like a missile.
"MAMA! What happened to you?!"
She grabbed her mother's arm and began supporting her immediately, panic flooding her small face.
"Are you sick? Did someone attack you? WHO DO I NEED TO BURN?!"
