It had been more than a month since Isska had received the first message from her parents, a frantic letter saying only that Sakari had left the Northern Tribe on that her own and that she must be sent home if she were to turn up - in fact, the first letter had been rather adamant about this last part, as if Isska might have tempted her little sister away from her family and should agree to send her back straight away. Her note back had been short and curt; if Sakari was old enough to leave on her own, she was old enough to return on her own.
But really, how could Isska have influenced her sister? The letters she'd written to her sibling had gone unanswered, and she suspected they'd never so much as been delivered. Her parents had made no secret about their displeasure with her life, after all. And after a month, Isska had started to wonder if that displeasure hadn't rubbed off on her younger sibling. Without noticing, she'd returned to her life; she'd stopped watching, stopped asking other Water Tribe folk in the city if they'd noticed any new faces. And after two months? After two months, Sakari was like a whisper in the back of her mind. There were things to be done, after all - students to be taught, her own lessons to mind, and a life besides.
Isska had been in the middle of that, actually. She'd spent her Monday as she seemed to spend all of them, with groups of benders in various stages of skill, practicing their techniques. The group that was on its way out was the last; it was getting late in the day, and she would be off to find her dinner shortly, stopping in at the other academies as she went on her way. This was her routine, and there was no reason to interrupt it.
...except for the blue-eyed girl standing in the doorway when Isska turned toward the tapping, blurting out that she was her sister. For a few seconds, the Waterbender could just gape, surprised. It took those seconds for the statement to sink in - but when it did, an unexpected sense of relief flooded her. "Sakari," she greeted, a pleased smile taking the place of her surprised expression. "I wondered when you'd come, little sister." The next moment, she joined her at the door, pausing to inspect her as a mother might inspect a child home from some dangerous journey - checking for the right number of limbs, any sign of serious injury. "Are you well? Mother and father were convinced that you'd waste away on your own."
Here, her smile turned proud - just a little. "But you seem to be all in one piece."