Disclaiming Banner: I do not own ATLA.
Free-flying
Ty Lee was always glad when she didn't have to fight the Avatar. The way he bounded through and over the combat, or Princess Azula, reminded her too much of her favorite Aunt. Aunty Min, who laughed the loudest at the theater. She was the one who let Ty Lee tumble around and get dirty in her best clothes because it made her happy, who taught her how to fall without getting hurt, and how to read the weather with pin-point accuracy. The Avatar had the same light in his eyes that she had.
Aunty had been the one, not Father, to tell her the old family legends. Tall tales about the first komodo-rhino riders in the army; or the weaver's son who founded their clan by winning a dragon's favor. They were beautiful stories and during her years away from home, (the many times she was away from home) told them to herself again to remember that her kin were always more quick and clever than they acted.
Aunty had been the one person she told before leaving for the circus. A dark part of Ty Lee thought she might be the only one to notice, and it wouldn't be fair to her. In a flurry of hugs and goodbye kisses, Aunty had told her one last story. Of a great-grandmother who had cartwheeled instead of walking and who had never sailed a ship; because she could fly.
So it really was a good thing that Princess Azula decided the Avatar was her personal prey. Because Ty Lee might have forgotten and asked for a story instead of fighting.