“Oh… My stomach… Is that you Bumi?”
“Yes Aang. It’s me.”
“Bumi… I don’t think I’ll make it… I’ll be with you in the spirit world soon old friend…”
“Aang, Bumi’s not dead. He’s in the room with us right now…” Sokka explained.
“Sokka? Is that you?” Aang asked, clutching his stomach beneath the covers. The poor little guy had been in bed for the past 3 weeks sweating, throwing up, and moaning. No one could figure out what was wrong with the little dude.
“Yes Aang, it’s me. I’m here for you buddy…” Sokka whispered, trying to comfort his poor friend. “… Sokka? Is that you?” Sokka grimaced. “He’s not getting any better.” “Why don’t we ask Momo what to do?” Bumi suggested. Toph groaned, “Bumi, we keep telling you. Momo died two years ago! How you out-lived him I’ll never know.”