Around a distant campfire to the North...

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So, we had been travelling for a while... We were pretty far north too... And by that, I mean you couldn't walk any more north. You needed a boat... and ice skates... or an air bison. We found a travelling storyteller and decided to camp with him and his companions for the night.
He told us a magnificent story about flying men that lived nearby, near the Northern Air Temple. "So, travellers. The next time you think you hear a strange, large bird talking, take a closer look. It might not be a giant parrot but a flying man. A member of a secret group of air walkers, who laugh at gravity and laugh at those bound to the earth by it!"

The fire crackled and popped as the logs sunk, and the storyteller gathered coins in his hat.
"Aren't Airbender stories the best?" Aang asked Katara and Sokka.
I fished around in my pocket for a coin and pulled up only a bit of bread. I tossed it into the hat as it came past.
"Was it realistic?" Katara asked. "Is that how it was back then?"
"I laugh at gravity all the time!" Aang chuckled. "Gravity..."

The storyteller waved his hat in front of Sokka, obviously looking for a pay raise. Sokka searched inside his heavy cloak and managed to pull out a bug, a worm, and a few crumbs. "Sorry..."
"Aww, cheapskates..." The storyteller complained.
"Hey! Thanks for the story," Aang said happily.
"Tell it to the cap boy," he said as he knelt in front of who I could only guess was his gramps—somehow, Momo found a coin and put it in the cap. "Aww, much obliged, little bat-thing," he said, giving Momo a scratch behind the ears.
"It means a lot to hear airbender stories," Aang mused. "It must have been a hundred years ago your great-grandpa met them."

"What are you prattling about, child? Great Grandpappy saw the air walkers last week," the story guy indicated to the old man he was kneeling in front of before. The old man made a sound in his throat akin to a laugh and waved a greeting to Aang and me. Aang gave him a shocked and disbelieving expression.

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