Within the mess of groaning plant life and rapidly creeping vines that continued to entomb the newly Crowned King of Lycaon, the future Queen and the Voice of the Wild, a sole high-pitched scream akin to that of a dying weaver bird rang clear. The same scream continued long after the trees had stopped moving. Cole was almost sure the trees shuddered at the power this scream held within it.
Sadly enough, it was a nuisance coming from the old woman trapped with him. When Fauna ran out of options, she'd chosen to scream her lungs out. A feat that would have been counterproductive. 'Doesn't she realise there is barely enough air left for the three of us?' Thankfully, the trees had stopped moving and a resonating shudder was echoing all around them.