The turtle-ducks were cute, Mai guessed. They weren’t pets, but they weren’t wild animals, either. They liked humans, at least as far as bread crumbs were concerned, but they clearly weren’t the cuddling type.

She still wasn’t quite sure how much Zuko really remembered of his mother. He held those memories too close, like precious treasures that could be hurt if someone handled them too roughly. (Azula’s face flitted across her memory at that; how many harsh words had Zuko heard over the years? How much misplaced anger had he faced?) Still, he’d told her he’d loved feeding the turtle-ducks with Ursa. She could do that. She could do that with their children, someday, even if they never knew their grandmother.

The mother duck nearest her put up her head and quacked, demandingly. “Fine, fine,” she said, and sprinkled more crumbs on the water. “Just look after those ducklings, okay?”