Taming the Rogue Luna
But Kaida sees it—the way his muscles tighten, the way his jaw clenches, the way he readies himself for whatever is about to come.
Korra exhales, a slow, measured breath.
Then—
She growls.
It’s low and sharp, barely controlled, the kind of sound that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise, the kind that speaks of old wounds, of hatred buried deep beneath the surface.
Kaida moves immediately, stepping between them, her hands raised slightly.
“Korra,” she says firmly.
Her sister doesn’t even glance at her.
Her eyes stay locked onto Octavius, her muscles still tensed, silver glow still burning.
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