Tonraq moved through the frigid tundra with the practiced ease of a seasoned hunter. The icy wind bit at his face, but the warmth of a successful hunt coursed through his veins. He adjusted the sealskin cloak over his shoulders, his breath visible in the cold air as he neared the edge of the frozen plain. The village was not far now, and the thought of the warm fires waiting for him quickened his pace.

As he approached the last stretch of ice before the familiar path home, something caught his eye. A dark figure lay crumpled against the blinding white of the snow, stark and out of place. Tonraq's heart quickened with a mix of concern and wariness. He crouched low, moving closer with the stealth of a hunter, his senses on high alert..

When he was near enough to make out the details, his breath caught in his throat. The figure was that of a young person, their clothes charred and torn, steam rising from the bruised and battered body as if the very air around him simmered with heat. Tonraq’s eyes widened in realization—a firebender, here in the heart of the tundra. Their hair was matted with blood, and their breathing was shallow, labored. Burn marks marred the surrounding snow, melted into strange patterns, evidence of a recent struggle.