Almost as soon as Toph had crossed the threshold of the gate at Muspelheim, The Master had just come down from a tremendous leap and crouched close to the ground. His face was still set in a hard, grim stare as he surveyed another new arrival. His lip sneered as he dragged the sleeve of his sweatship over the corner of his mouth and saw a remaining shred of food that he licked off the dry cotton. After licking his lips after savoring the left-overs from his previous meal, he surveyed the short girl who stood out among the lumens.

And who might you be? he thought to himself while tapping against his kneecap in a rhythm of four. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap, tap.