Zuko's not sure he can even picture what a Sunpriest is like outside of the political machinations of the capital. They're all corrupt, half of them are spying for his father, and maybe one of the reasons Zuko had never felt religious is that every religious experience has been overshadowed by their critical eyes. He's never been able to easily let go of anything, even things that aren't good for him - case in point: he still cares about Azula - so Zuko is nonetheless eager to retain whatever he can of Karse, however tainted or confusing the memories are.

It's going to be a lot of new experiences here, that's for sure.

"It doesn't matter," he replies, looking aside, inadvertently embodying a sullen teenager despite his very real reasons to feel morose and bitter. Zuko at least sounds subdued, hands gripping the cloth of his gray trainee pants. He still thinks they should be red; he's not hiding. "I know they didn't have to let me be here. I'm supposed to be a Herald-Trainee. What do I need to do?"

His language is more revealing than he intends: supposed to be. Zuko is still skeptical he won't be tossed out on his ear if he takes a single step out of line.

:You think that because your dad is a total dick. It won't be like that. I Chose you - they can't kick you out!:

:There's a first time for everything, and I'm really good at finding ways to fail.:

:I'm still not saying it'll happen, but you know I'd go with you, right? If you had to leave?:

Zuko, distracted in this conversation, stares down at his knees and lets his intense upswelling of gratitude answer for him. There aren't really words for how that makes him feel, anyway.