Day 4
In the moment of each afternoon when he'd first hear the soft, shuffling creak of the old general's boots on the steel floor of the brig, Aang would feel a of sensation overtake him, fill him, and then drift off into nothing, like a warm zephyr on a hot day.
As the man would sit down before him with his candles and his warm eyes, Aang would decide again (as he decided every day) that the feeling must be gratitude.
How odd, for the Avatar to feel gratitude to Ozai's Dragon of the West.