This is a series of short one-shots, when the group is at the western air temple. Each of the sections focuses on a particular person in the original four of the GAang, and their inner thoughts and fears.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. God owns all!

The temple was quiet. Despite the fact that it once again housed living inhabitants, it was as still and silent as the days after death had descended on the airbending nuns nearly a century ago.

The gaang and their newer companions slumbered around Appa, who snored contentedly, Aang and Momo curled up together on his head. The airbender was at home with his two animal companions. They connected to one another in a sort of way that could not be achieved by any other relationship they would have in the future, being were the last of the air nomads world...

The distinct forms of the two water tribe siblings lay at Appa's side. While Sokka snored incessantly inside his bedroll, his sister's softer breaths were harder to distinguish. Brother and sister. They were family, the identical gleam in their eyes and mannerisms told anyone that. Of course, each of them interpreted those similar habits in their own ways, accentuating their individuality. No one would mistake one for the other, even if their appearances were the exact same. Sokka had a distinct commanding air about him, which was affectionately misread by his younger sibling as his 'control-freakiness.' Likewise, Katara's 'control-freak' side was portrayed through her motherliness, and the fierceness in which she so boldly defended and protected her friends.

On the same side of the bison, lying in a fetal position on the ground without a sleeping bag of any kind, was Toph, snoring, but not quite as loud as the top pair. Her arm was tucked under her head as a support, and her knees were pulled up to her chest. The mighty earthbender looked so different than she appeared in the waking world. She was small, vulnerable, and desperately fighting to cover up the tide of emotion that threatened to overturn her mask of sarcastic indifference. It was this mask that made her essentially who she was, or at least who the others believed her to be.

The group, in its entirety, was a group of lost souls looking for a place to belong. And they had found their place among each other, a motley crew of people bent on the same goal. Defeating the Fire Lord and ultimately destabilizing the war. That was the ultimate achievement every one of them wished for, they had all lost too much because of it, and they were ready to face their adversary together, side-by-side, forming a wall of such force that each individual weakness, each stone that was cracked or crumbling, was 

supported by strong blocks of steel surrounding it and keeping the wall sturdy and unbreakable. Without that support, each of them would fall apart. Together they persevere, divided they are lost among the rubble of their own wishes and hopes. Rays of sunlight dawn on a new era. Are they ready for it?