She watches as his fire eats away at more of her water - the supply from her waterskin is limited, after all - but she's not ready to just move on to the next step yet. The steam from the encounter is bent back down, reinforcing her water as she continues to meet him, hit for hit and stroke for stroke.

...they fought like this once before, but this time she has no angry words to fling at him across the distance. There's no betrayal to address. It's just an honest outpouring of power and frustration, a meeting of equals, and it feels good.