He shakes his head. "At first, in between hunting Aang, I looked for healers that could help. Nothing has helped." He admits. He shrugs. "I can compensate for it. It doesn't affect my bending, or my swordsmanship. But this time of night? It gets tired." He hates having this weakness. He hates having to admit this weakness. This isn't one of Uncle's parables that allow him to turn what he sees as a weakness into a strength. He's got an eye that gets easily tired, and is blurry in bright light. There's nothing anyone can do about it.