The roar was not merely a sound, it was a kinetic, metaphysical force.
It hit the clearing like a physical shockwave. The silver mist was violently blown back, clearing the Grove in an instant. The blue-glowing moss on the ancient trees flared blindingly bright, struggling to withstand the sudden spike in atmospheric pressure. Several of the weaker initiates, already exhausted from their bindings, were literally lifted off their feet and thrown flat onto their backs.
Even the stoic Kira had to plant her boots firmly, throwing an arm over her face to shield herself from the sheer gale-force wind generated by the Storm-Tiger's lungs.
Other elders were much better, and weren't thrown out or anything, but were still struggling due to intense pressure.
In the baskets behind the altar, the Quartz and Star-Stones rattled against each other in sheer, unadulterated terror. The spirits inside were trying to dig themselves deeper into the mineral out of fear.
