Chou was stunned. He was right near having a heart-attack. It couldn't be. What he had searched for so long, what he had dedicated his life to, had fallen straight into his lap. All those years. He couldn't even count how many times he'd had this dream, or of how many times he'd anticipated this meeting. The search had reached its end, at last. Chou stirred, shaking off his stunned reaction. He walked towards the heap of bodies with a foreboding in his steps. The short distance he covered felt like a mile. There, before him, lay the Avatar. It was just a boy, but the world's destiny lay on his shoulders. Chou steeled his steps and his voice. He had never felt so anxious. 

Chou was a tall man, but with a crooked neck which made him marginally shorter. His head was bald, and he had a grey beard. His eyes had a hint of wisdom to them, but mostly they spoke of an inner warmth. It was rare to see in people these days, as most had hunted looks. It was as if he was from another place and time, and he carried himself as if he was not of this world. He wore thick green robes which blended in with the environment. When Chou reached the battlefield, he glanced at all the bodies. Such carnage. Nobody moved except the boy lying next to the Armadillo-Lion. Chou wondered if the boy knew that he was the Avatar, but he didn't think it likely. The Avatar was just a myth, now; a legend past. Stories were told around camp-fires, but it wasn't perceived as reality. He got the notion to shout out the truth to this boy, to tell him all the things he had to do. However, he managed to supress it. The boy had been through enough in one day - he didn't have to have the world thrown on his shoulders just yet. 

Instead he approached him warily, and said, "are you alright, my boy?"