The forest fell silent as Johamma approached her grandson, silver hair catching the afternoon light that filtered through the old trees. She wasn't paying attention to the gouges or trees which fell around her.
Green energy shimmered faintly around Jolthar's form—the unmistakable aura of the Beast King's power that now coursed through his veins. Unlike his other abilities, this power was wild and untamed, refusing to be controlled like an obedient servant. It raged within him like a caged storm, oozing out of him, showing its dominance.
"When I found that you were in the barony, I couldn't stop myself from coming here," Johamma said, her voice steady despite the tension between them. Her eyes—the same piercing shade as his own—studied him carefully.
"After you left, I thought about what went wrong. I have come to realize that I had been too harsh on you.
Johamma stood firm, the weight of her words pressing down on the silence between them.
