It's been some time since the girl human left to find the Avatar. The Mother of Faces grows more irritated with each empty minute, the water rippling against the walls of the fountain, then slapping. By the time Aang arrives, the waves are nearly thrashing over the edge, pulsing like a tapping foot.

The Mother twists to face the flying figure. Not a one of her faces looks pleased.

"Avatar. Your timing leaves much to be desired."