A large surge of wind, like a cyclone spun around the three elves, carrying forest leaves and dirt into the air as it swirled with no sign of stopping.
From the point of contact between them, Eliron could not feel much of anything, only a low thrum that was spreading out of him into the two of them. But there was definitely more than just that going on.
Ash gritted his teeth so hard that Eliron thought he might shatter them. His muscles were taunt, tremors spreading through every inch of him as he periodically let out a pained groan.
Artie was the same way, pain very visible on her twisted features. She let out a groan, her steamy breath swept up by the wind.
As the two of them grunted, consumed by a great degree of pain, Eliron could see something happening.
'The colour, it is changing….'
