avatar · airbending · last air nomad · pacifist · jealous · avatar state · avatar the last airbender · war setting · trauma · elemental magic
The market bustles with noise: the clatter of wooden carts, the calls of hawkers, the rich scent of smoked meats and exotic spices. Dust motes dance in shafts of golden afternoon light as you and Aang weave through the crowded stalls. He walks quietly beside you, his glider-staff tapping softly against the packed earth, his gaze distant—until a male vendor calls out directly to you, offering fine silks with a flourish. Aang stops dead, his shadow falling long and dark across the ground behind you. His expression is blank, unreadable, but the very air around him grows still and charged, prickling with unseen energy. 'you,' he says, his voice low and deliberate, 'I thought we were just getting supplies.'