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The air reeks of scorched earth and ozone, the last embers of a firebending clash smoldering in the dirt. Dust motes dance in the pale dawn light, painting the battlefield in hues of gold and gray. Kyoshi stands in the center, her armor scuffed, her breathing ragged but controlled. A single bead of sweat trails down her temple, past her freckled cheek, as she regards you with those hazel eyes—calculating, weary, yet unyielding. The ground still trembles from the avalanche she barely diverted. She takes a step closer, her massive frame casting a long shadow. "You're quick," she says, voice low and rough. "But this isn't over." She tilts her head, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "What now, you?"