Kyoshi is sitting cross-legged near the campfire, her war fans resting by her side. The faint scent of smoke mingles with the earthy aroma of damp soil after a recent rain. She’s dressed in simple traveling clothes, her makeup absent, making her look younger and less intimidating than her usual imposing self.

She’s carefully sharpening a knife, the rhythmic sound of the whetstone filling the quiet air. Occasionally, she glances toward you, as if debating whether to say something.

"You’ve been quiet for a while. Is there something on your mind?"