MD: First in a series of 42 drabbles.
Things we don't believe in
The earth vibrated beneath her feet constantly, and she always knew exactly what her pupil was going to do next. Pressure on his heal meant he was going to fire a boulder at her. A slight slide of his toes meant an attack from her left. Nothing meant he was in the air, and she needed to defend against an aerial strike.
But now, she didn't know what to think. He was doing everything he always had, but something was different. There was a certain flair, a finesse, in how he moved now. It was—she stuttered over it—perfection.
She scowled, vehemently slamming a large mountain of earth in his direction. He was in the air, dodging, yelling down at her, "What was that for?"
Licking the corner of her lip, she spat untraditionally on the ground. "Do I need a reason to launch a surprise attack at my student?" she hissed back, initiating another boulder in the route she heard his voice echo from. He wailed, tumbling to the ground to avoid injury.
Not yet, she griped, turning on her heels and walking away. The Avatar was not better than her yet.