"...Sparky?" It comes out like a question, but Toph would know Zuko's heat signature and those solid, confident steps anywhere.

Of course, she hadn't taken too kindly to waking up in a strange city, plopped in a puddle on a metal cradle. All of those welcome goodies were left behind -- didn't really feel like anything important and she couldn't read it anyway.

Toph points in Zuko's direction before grinning and course-correcting him. "Hey! What's going on, here? Where is this place?"

And then: whack, she jabs right up at his shoulder. Because hopefully all of her questions could be answered now, and a preemptive thanks is in order.

Running into Zuko meant having to trudge back and pick up all that junk that Toph had left in the Bay. Well, mostly junk -- the flimsy money was kinda nice to have.

She parts from Zuko eventually, to get a feel for the expanse of the city she can see spreading beneath her feet. As much as she appreciates the guidance a friend can provide, Toph wants to know if she can get up to a little trouble on her own. And she's not interested in learning how to use that video phone thing just yet, anyway.

For all intents and purposes, she looks like a lost barefoot runaway. Toph wanders around the city with ease that belies her complete lack of vision. Green and tan robes that are made for smooth movement (and could really use a thorough washing) adorn her stout form, leaving her to make confident steps to avoid collision.

Or, sometimes, to cause one. When she does bump into a stranger, it's a meek apology that squeaks out in a high voice, clutching at one of her feet. "Ohh, ouch! I'm sorry, I was trying to find 11th Avenue so I can find a friend of mine. Gee, are you OK?"

It's a good way to gauge how generally gullible a place is.