First Snow
It was early morning when the clouds rolled in. The temple was silent, the monks and their charges in unified meditation. Outside, lemurs and bison attempted to stay warm, their noises muffled by sleepiness.
Inside, among the section of children, Aang felt the sudden cold shift of wind. He tensed, meditative state broken, and slowly peeked open an eye. Several of his brothers shifted as well. The older monks remained immovable.
Someone behind Aang leaned forward. "It's finally gonna snow," he whispered, the words hardly more than the sound of his lips moving.
Aang grinned. "It's gotta be today." His voice, quiet as it was, echoed, and several masters shot him disapproving looks. Aang flinched and returned to them a sheepish smile. "Uh, sorry…" He glanced at Monk Gyatso to find that a tiny smile was on his lips. The cheshire grin returned, but he tried to focus on his meditation. With each new gust of wind, the task seemed a little more impossible. A bison roared, and all the young monks stirred, fidgeting with eagerness.
"It's started!" one of the boys shouted, pointing outside.
"Well, in that case," Gyatso proclaimed, opening an eye, "then it's time for you all to go outside and play."
The boys all cheered and scattered, bolting out all the openings. Several of the older monks stood as well and followed them, talking amongst themselves and admiring the falling snow.
One of the council frowned at Gyatso. "They're supposed to train, Gyatso. They can wait one morning to play in the snow."
"Perhaps they can't," he replied, watching Aang slip on some ice and fall, laughing. "You never know."
The master sighed. "Your softness will be the death of you, Gyatso."
Monk Gyatso smiled. "That is my greatest hope."