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- Yun’s fingers plowed into the smooth surface of the marble, crushing the stone into his fist as effortlessly as if it were chalk. He would never lash out against a teacher. The only way he could put up resistance against Hei-Ran was to disappoint her. To uphold her accusation that he was a wayward child.
- His next punch produced a swirling dragon’s belch of “flame” worthy of the Fire Lord, each spout and flicker rendered lovingly, mockingly in white stone dust. He let it rage and dance like a real fire reacting to the eddies of the breeze, and then let the cloud of particles fall to the ground.
- To cap it off, make the performance complete, he added the smirk that everyone always said reminded them of Kuruk’s. A clown needed his makeup, after all.
- -RoK, The Boy From Makapu
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