Moonspear Fram, ber med bare føt, den tunge børi.

Her spine went rigid as her fur stood on end. An indescribable odor filled the air and Towhee’s stomach sank, sensing something very wrong in the split second before the air became blindingly bright. Her skin tingled as some force flung her, a rash of blistering heat lighting up her backside as she flew through the air.

She landed hard and slid a few feet, the scar tissue on her back searing with pain as Towhee tried to raise her head and orient herself. The ground shook beneath her as a ball of light drew her eyes. She craned her neck to stare at the fire engulfing the sycamore’s branches.

The phenomenon only lasted a matter of seconds before the heavy rain drowned the flames. Towhee’s eyes traced down the tree’s great trunk, split in two and blackened from top nearly to bottom. As she looked, lightning flashed again and she cringed.

Towhee tried to stand, though it felt as though there was a great weight on her back. She winced, the pelting rain painful on her suddenly tender scars. She rolled onto her side with a grunt, then took a moment to catch her breath before letting out a tremulous call for help.

Thanks for playing! I assume the lightning strike was pretty loud, if you want Orca to hear it and/or the call for help. :)