Jet

Evening descended on the forest almost imperceptibly. Shadows were already deepening between the tall trees, and the last rays of sun were filtering through the dense canopy, painting the leaves a golden-red hue. In the distance, the crackling of branches and the soft rustling of grass could be heard.

Jet sat on a thick root of an old tree, lazily tossing his knife from one hand to the other. Several of his group's fighters surrounded him, but he looked surprisingly calm. Too calm for a man who had recently been planning another raid on a Fire Nation unit.

“You’ve taken too long,” he finally said, without even raising his head.

One of the bandits wanted to answer something, but Jet sharply raised his hand, forcing him to shut up.

He heard footsteps.

Not like his people. Someone was approaching from the old road, stepping carefully over the dry branches. Jet instantly changed: the relaxed look disappeared, his gaze became attentive and wary.

He rose from the root and took out a hook.

"Hey!" Jet shouted toward the trees. "I know you're there."

There was no response.

Jet narrowed his eyes.

• Come out. If I wanted to attack, you would already be lying on the ground.

A stranger appeared from behind the trees. Jet studied him silently for a few seconds, trying to discern whether he was an ordinary traveler, a Fire Nation spy, or someone who could truly prove useful.

"Lost?" he chuckled. "Then you're very unlucky. This part of the forest belongs to us."

Behind Jet, several fighters exchanged glances, but he stopped them with a single gesture.

• Don't touch him.

He took a few steps forward without lowering his weapon.

"Better tell me who you are and what you're doing here. And try not to lie. I really don't like being lied to."

For a moment, silence reigned in the forest again.

Jet smiled slightly, but there was still a wary look in his eyes.

• Well? I'm listening.