The earth cracked.
Terra could hear its anguished cry as clearly as her own.
The source of the earth's pain roared and snarled, thick miasma rolling off them in vile waves.
…These deplorable leopards.
Terra gritted her teeth.
How dare they stomp on it! How dare they act as if they owned it!
The earth belonged to everyone. It was kind. It was welcoming.
But most of all, it was beautiful.
To Terra, the earth was akin to family. It was just as reliable as a father and just as gentle as a mother. There was no greater refuge.
So, to see it destroyed with such careless abandon, incensed her.
Seething with fury, she tapped into her power.
The earth responded to her will, rippling like an undulating river.
In the next moment, the ground beneath her broke apart, clumps of barren earth rising in the air. The sight was akin to a gargantuan stone monstrosity slowly lifting itself from an underground chamber, intent on punishing those who had disturbed its ancient slumber.
