By growing cabbages and spinning wool, Hama made barely enough to prolong her miserable existence from one day to the next. She didn't wear silk nor ride a thoroughbred ostrich horse like the young man and woman who trampled through her cabbage field.
Hama looked up from her spinning wheel when ostrich-horse hooves thundered closer, kicking up dirt. A row of cabbages had been flattened. She would have to do extra spinning the next few days to keep from starving and falling behind on her rent.
"Damn you," she swore. "Do you know how long it will take me to grow new cabbages to replace those?"
The young man and woman reined in their ostrich horses. The young woman laughed and readied herself to dismount. Hama had hated her at first sight. She was everything Hama had been and no longer was: wealthy, beautiful, and overly pleased with herself.
"Allow me to handle it, babe," the young man said. He climbed down from his ostrich horse.
The young man was strapping and handsome. He carried himself with the same entitled arrogance as his wife but appeared to lack her intelligence. Hama had pegged him right away as a good-looking lunkhead.
The young man reached for a pouch of coins at his belt. "You again, Old Witch," he said. He tossed a gold coin at Hama's feet.
Hama scoffed. They always thought they could pay her off with their ill-gotten gains.
A haughty smirk crossed the young woman's face. "Not enough for you, Old Witch?"
Hama's vision went blurry and unfocused.
"We should go now. The hag's not looking too good." The young man grabbed his wife's hand, but she wouldn't budge.
"Hail Princess Azula."  Hama knew from the beginning that her trespassers were Princess Azula, the sister of Fire Lord Zuko, and her husband, Lord Chan. Her pitiful shack was within sight of Princess Azula's vast estates. The ostrich horses that trampled her cabbage fields had trappings decorated with royal sigils: flames, fire lilies, dragons, and phoenixes. "Hail Lady of the Golden Dragon. Hail Daiymo of Omashu. Hail Fire Lord hereafter." 
Princess Azula and Lord Chan simply turned their ostrich horses around and robe off, kicking up dust in Hama's face.
Hama's vision returned to normal. Whether or not she believed in her predictions didn't matter. They were just seeds that may or may not bloom into the vain and ambitious princess' destruction. All that mattered to Hama was how many bags of rice Lord Chan's gold coin would get her.