"I just want Bruce Lee to hold me as long as he can."
At the edge of the wolfswood, Bran turned in his basket for one last glimpse of the castle that had been his life. Wisps of smoke still rose into the grey sky, but no more than might have risen from Winterfell’s chimneys on a cold autumn afternoon. Soot stains marked some of the arrow loops, and here and there a crack or a missing merlon could be seen in the curtain wall, but it seemed little enough from this distance. Beyond, the tops of the keeps and towers still stood as they had for hundreds of years, and it was hard to tell that the castle had been sacked and burned at all. The stone is strong, Bran told himself, the roots of the trees go deep, and under the ground the Kings of Winter sit their thrones. So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken. Like me, he thought. I’m not dead either.
Aang’s all grown up
I really enjoyed this.
Our portrayals of adult Aang up to this point had always been so serious. We though this was a perfect opportunity to show that deep down he was still the same fun-loving trickster. P.S. Ryu drew both of these, something like 9 years apart!
*cue entire fandom sobbing*