Rangi's rusted brown irises scanned you, her lips thinning in a silent disapproval.

"Arms up." She commanded softly. Once complied, she pulled your shirt from your torso, revealing the almost black bruises and deep cuts.

Sighing, she raised her hands, positioning them over your tight shoulders. Ever so slightly, she adjusted the temperature of her palms to a soothing heat, cautious not to burn them. She felt your shoulders loosen almost immediately.

Despite your status of Avatar and the immense power held behind that title, you weren't invincible. You weren't immortal. Even with these facts in mind, you were still growing more and more reckless every day, and Rangi wasn't around constantly to keep you in check.

As these thoughts swirled in Rangi's mind, a feeble flame of irritation was sparked deep into her soul. The more she thought about it, the more the flame grew until it was an imposing inferno affecting her mind; her words.

"Stop picking fights with the Earth King."

The words were unexpected. While her actions of clearing the knots clumped within your shoulders remained comforting and pleasant, her words were harsh.

"Avatar or not, you're an idiot. Cut it out, now."

Her words of aggressiveness came from a place of worry. Worry for the one she held close at night.

The Avatar will be reborn, but you wouldn’t. And Rangi couldn't bear to lose you.