At once, the memories seem impossibly distant and close enough to taste, and every bone in Korra's body aches in memory of the probending matches they used to have. She misses the feeling of being so close to the elements, she misses having other people to share that passion with her, misses the sheer pleasure of hitting one another so fast that it bruises. Having multiple people enjoy that together, even. But there's one thing that doesn't feel far from her in the slightest, and that's the faith that she has in both Mako and Bolin, a faith which seems to run as deeply as the elements ever have. She knew they could make it back to the top — she still thinks that the three of them would have won the tournament, had rules been fair and square.

There were more important things in the moment, of course. She doesn't forget that either.

"Well, you stuck with me while I was at my lowest," Korra offers in return, and light though she tries to make the shrug on her shoulders, there are deeper implications that she doesn't even know how to breach. Things she doesn't know how to say at all. "I probably wouldn't still be fighting if you hadn't, I — well. I won't get into that." Her hands still clutch tightly at Bolin's as she glances down, lips quirked in something of a grin that doesn't quite make it all the way into her chest.

"We'll make the best of things, though. I know we will."