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A suave-looking black man strolls into the farm, looking around assessingly.

"Well, this is nice."

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"Trader?" she says. "Like a pirate?"

"Not on the sea, and I only occasionally deal in goods. More often, my stock of choice is favours."

"Like a gangster?"

He tilts his head in acceptance.

"I suppose something like that, though I have little use for Upworlder money."

"What's upworlder mean?"

"One who doesn't live in the Underside", he says unhelpfully.

"..the underside of what?"

Man is not making sense!

"The city of London."

It may be revenge for the whole bending discussion.

"Never heard of it," Toph says, waving a hand.

"I wouldn't expect you have, as Bending doesn't exist in my world."

"That's OK," says a sympathetic Toph. "I'm sure it isn't all bad."

The Marquis laughs.

"I found it to my liking, yes."

"Well," she muses. "You didn't know any better."

"And now we can only make the best of this one."

"Yeah," says Toph. "Luckily, you've got me on this one."

That gets another grin.

"Are you the only bender here?"

"No," Toph explains. "I'm just the best."

"I'm sure you are."

It actually sounds sincere. He's good at that.

He can sound how he likes. Toph can tell exactly how sincere he really is.

Not that she cares.

"Whatever, welcome to the farm. You going to be all trading around here?"

"It depends what people have to offer and what they may want. I usually find business everywhere."

"Good luck, then," Toph says. "Have fun."

With nothing more to say, she lies back down on the grass.

"Oh, I intend to."

And he strolls off into the farmyard.

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