When Sokka gives up gesticulating wildly trying to describe the motor-propelled skis he's invented he reaches for pencil and paper, and Teo covers a smile. King Edmund leans over Sokka's shoulder to see what on earth this thing could possibly look like, and barely hangs on to his diplomacy: "Are those supposed to be-" "THEY'RE WEARING SKIS, ALL RIGHT?"
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"THEY'RE WEARING SKIS, ALL RIGHT?"