The gesture is lost on Toph, yes -- though she may be able to catch agitation in an increased heart or breath rate, if either are present.

Even if she does, though, her response will be the same; other people's emotions are pretty much their business, and her own tendency is to be genuine no matter what's going on on the other side.

The metal wriggles back along the ground like a bird that can't manage to fly . . . and only in the last moment flicks upward to Toph's hand. "In my world, I invented metalbending." The words are casual, but the pride is there all the same, laced into her tone. Toph loves what she's been capable of doing, and it's obvious. "I'm pretty good when I'm touching it, but not touching it . . . kind of still working out the kinks."

She moves her hands to either end of the remaining scrap. "Like this." The metal twists easily in her hands, rather like she's tearing a bit of paper, and with a last protest, gives way, breaking into two in her hands. "Easy, as long as I've got contact. When I don't . . ."

Her shoulders lift, because the result is already obvious.

"Like I said, though, pretty good shield. You're fast."