Sokka grumbles. "Stop that, I swear to Agni, you stop that."

But his feeble utterances do nothing to stop her. Azula, still half asleep, gives the covers a hard yank. She pulls them over her head and rolls onto them in a way that makes it harder for the Water Tribe by to snatch them back.

"Come on, Azula!" He shouts as he tugs helplessly at the blanket she is clutching firmly in her hand. But despite his fuss she doesn't wake up. Instead she rolls on to her side and mutters something soft and incoherent.

Sokka manages to catch the words, "Bosco no, Mai's hair isn't a cream puff. You can't eat Iroh's teapot."

Sokka raises an eyebrow at this. Her grip loosens on the blanket. He takes the opportunity to make a move. His hand wraps around the silken sheet, but she tightens her grip and murmurs again. This time he can very clearly make out, "Zuko, if you touch my lychee nuts one more time I'm going to kick yours." He quickly retracts his hand before Azula can decide that it is his nuts that she should be kicking.

"Alright fine. I don't need blankets anyways, a real man makes his own heat." Sokka mutters.

"A real man makes his own heat." Azula snickers.

"Oh good, you're awake." He chooses to ignore her mocking. "Would you mind sharing the blankets?"

She squints at him through the darkness and possessively wraps the blankets closer around herself. "I need them more than you." She insists.

"I'm freezing, Azula."

"And I'm a firebender. We require more warmth." She states and crosses her arms over her chest as if that settles everything. With that she nuzzles her head against the pillow, turning her back on Sokka. "These blankets are cozy." She murmurs before drifting back into sleep.

He blinks twice. It is as if the firebender can exactly control her sleep. For the next time he gives her a shake, she is already well into another odd dream. This one centers around her mother trying to beat down a lionturtle. Sokka listens a bit closer to find out that she is, in fact, the lionturtle. Part of him wishes that he could have dreams like that. His pondering is quickly brought to a dead hault.

"Ow!" He shouts. Azula had kicked him square in the back. Apparently this dreamland fight had gotten intense. She rolls over again and snatches more of the blankets. Now his feet don't even have coverage. To make matters worse, the princess begins sprawling herself across the entire bed. Sokka has no idea how a firebender so small can take up so much space. No wonder she owns such a huge bed, he thinks to himself, without it she'd probably sleep fight her way painfully onto the floor. She gives him another kick. This one is lighter. And then she spreads herself out completely, in turn shoving him hazardously near the edge of the bed.

Sokka nervously shoved back, trying to give himself a little more space. But the princess proves to be a sturdy opponent, rooted firmly in the mattress. He sighs, "what is with you and not letting me sleep." He reflects bitterly on the night that she chased him, literally, across plains and over mountains. At the point the Water Tribe man can't tell if she's a bigger pain in the ass when she's awake or when she's asleep. Either which way, he can't seem to best her. "Kay, fine. You win again." He glances at the couch, it will be his new best friend. He picks himself up and out of the bed and stumbles sleepily over to its inviting cushions. He takes the quilt that had been draped over the headrest and tucks himself back in.

Azula stirs and mutters a soft, "hmm" as she notices that she is now the sole inhibitor of the bed. This won't do at all, she thinks to herself. She yawns, slings her feet over the bed, and hops off of it with a slight and graceful spring. Quietly, she tiptoes across the room and snuggles up against Sokka on the couch. This comfy position lasts all around three minutes before she realizes that she is growing chilly.

Sokka finds himself once more roused from his sleep. "H-how?" Is the only dumbfounded word he manages to get out. For the tiny firebender had found her way under his covers once again, leaving his left shoulder exposed to the chilly draft. He considers stomping back into bed but decides that she'd probably just follow him again, so he would stay put. At least this time he has some blankets and the warmth of her body cuddled up against his own. She rolls over to face him, slings her arm over his exposed shoulder, and buries her face in his chest. This will do just fine, he decides.