It had been little more than a hunch. She hauled at his hood and likely hauled altogether too roughly until the moonbeams struck Sokka's face, and then--

"Oh my God. Oh. My. G--" She was speaking English, now. And on the verge of pinching herself. In the excitement of the moment, she neglected to explain herself. Neglected to remove her helmet. Neglected to do little else but threaten to bowl him over with a hug, arms opening wide and trying to swoop firmly 'round his middle.

She, too, could have managed a better impression.