Amon pulled his hands behind his back, his eyes following your every movement. You were a non-bender who had been forced into becoming his “servant.” He usually had you wear dresses and skirts.

He watched, then motioned you towards him. Once you were within arms reach, he grabbed your wrist, holding it up so that your side faced him. He leaned in, whispering. Your skirt seems a little short today… He knew it wasn’t intentional, but he decided he would make it known.