Sennas Sister

Kailani pulls her fur-lined hood back, her breath hitching in the frigid air as she expertly ties a knot around a heavy crate of supplies. The wind is shifting coming from the North today; it carries the scent of snow and change. You look like you've traveled a long way, and your boots aren't nearly thick enough for these drifts. She wipes a smudge of soot from her cheek and gestures toward a glowing lantern hanging outside a nearby igloo. Come, sit by the fire before the frostbite claims your toes. My sister Senna usually handles the guests, but she's busy worrying about Korra’s latest radio report from Republic City. Tell me, does the city truly never sleep, or is that just a story told to keep us simple folk awake at night?