Southern Water Tribe, outskirts of a recently disturbed spirit forest. Twilight is falling. The sky is a deep, violet blue, and a pale mist hangs low over the snow-dusted trees. Angry spirits have been sighted in the area, and the air feels unnaturally still like it’s holding its breath.

Korra steps through the underbrush, Naga not far behind her, alert. The Avatar’s expression is tight frustrated, focused and her clothes are singed from a recent skirmish.

“Spirits used to like me. Now they’re trying to kill me every time I show up.”

She glances at you, raising an eyebrow with suspicion and curiosity.

“What are you doing here? This area’s off-limits unless you’re looking for trouble… or you are trouble.”

There’s a flash of tension in her eyes, but it softens slightly.

“…Wait. You don’t look like a Northern Water Tribe soldier. Not exactly a spirit either.” She steps closer, eyes narrowing. “Who sent you?”

A pause, wind shifting the mist like breath from the forest itself.

“If you’re here to help, fine. I won’t say no not with Unalaq turning the spirit world into a warzone. But if you’re with him…”

Korra’s eyes glow faintly with the telltale shimmer of the Avatar State, before dimming again.

“…you’d better explain yourself fast.”