The wind is gentle, mild, bringing a sense of coolness.
The wind is roaring, fierce, bringing a chill.
A sliver of wind brushed across the neck, and then blood emerged, dyeing the world in front red. The first person to fall due to the wind didn't make a sound; he just felt a warm sensation on his neck. Then there was a second person. The howl of the wind seemed to whistle right in the ear, as if everyone was swept into this gust of fierce wind.
"They're not dead!" Someone shouted, then burst into blinding light. But the person was still a step too slow; the wind swept past him like a thousand sharp blades, and then he was torn to pieces in an instant, as if thrown into a meat grinder. Flesh and blood mixed and scattered all over the ground.
The fierce wind was like a dragon, roaring and devouring those guards.
