Zuko jolts at the unexpected appearance of-- someone? A doll? A doll that's talking to him? He looks around, as though expecting to notice someone trying to play a trick on him.

It's a strange enough happening to stop his temper up short. If someone's trying to mess with him... he can't tell who, and at least they're being encouraging? This place is already so weird, anyway, why not a talking doll?

"Uh..." He still feels awkward just-- talking to it, though. He thinks of Kiyi, and her little doll with all her hair chopped off, and can't help a little smile. "Yeah, I guess that's true... kids aren't picky like that. Well, some of them aren't, anyway." He picks up the doll and the needle again, sighing in annoyance that his tossing it down un-threaded the needle. "I'm just sick of poking my own fingers. I'm not very good at-- making things."