Iroh poked his finger into a dark, wet spot on the dirt floor, and rubbed his fingers together. It was not blood but mud, a dark mud of a different consistency than the prevalent dirt.

Nodding to himself, he regained his feet, and seeing Korra near the stairs, told her, "I will finish up down here. That trap will be more amenable to disassembly from this end."

Although he was fairly certain, from the lack of any sound from above, and the clear signs that there had been no resistance remaining, that she would find that they had been delayed enough in getting here that the crooks had already fled. "I believe the young girl is alive and not permanently harmed, and there may be a trail. And Avatar, please be careful of other traps. A person who enjoys setting such traps will rarely stick to only one."

As he collected some parts from the workshop -- large pieces good for propping up tunnels -- turning himself into a porcupine of beams and metal until he got them all arranged in a way he could carry -- he said to himself, sadly, "And then someone must deliver the bad news to the good people next door."