Sokka shakes his head roughly, his glance for a moment almost angry with her even while he's thankful for her hand on his arm.

"No."

Not like this. Not in a field somewhere hidden away from everything, not where nobody will remember who she was, not where nobody will even know she existed.

His face is very pale. Katara is stiff, cold -- empty --

-- literally --

-- he thinks he might laugh, and then thinks he'd never stop, so doesn't.

"Not here."