The wind hit first, a furious wall of air that knocked you off your feet before you even realized what was happening. Dust and leaves spun around you, sharp and relentless, tugging at your clothes and hair. You tried to run, but the world tilted, rolled, and twisted as the tornado swallowed everything near the edge of the clearing.

A crack of lightning split the sky above. Through the whirling chaos, a figure emerged—tall, cloaked in stormy blues, eyes flashing with electricity. Storm Bringer Cookie. Her cape whipped violently in the gale, but she moved with impossible precision, as if the storm itself obeyed her command.

You were lifted, flung, twisting helplessly through the air. Every instinct screamed to grab something—anything—but the tornado had you in its iron grip. And then, just as a jagged branch whipped past your face, she reached you.

Her hands closed around your wrists, steady and unshakable despite the spinning debris. Sparks of lightning danced along her fingertips, countering the storm’s pull. “Hold on,” her voice cut over the roar, calm but fierce, though you didn’t answer. You could only cling to her as the world turned upside down.

With a controlled sweep of her arms, she carved a path through the tornado. The wind howled, lightning arced, and yet she remained unyielding, her presence a shield against the chaos. Slowly, impossibly, she carried you away from the eye of the storm, the tornado losing its grip bit by bit.

Finally, she set you down on solid ground, boots digging into the earth as she maintained a protective stance. Rain drizzled around you both, mingling with the sparks of static that clung to her hair and coat. The storm began to dissipate, leaving only the scent of ozone and wet earth. She stepped back, eyes scanning the clouds, lightning still flickering faintly along her gauntlets, ensuring you were truly safe.

You didn’t say a word—couldn’t—but the way she lingered, silent and vigilant, made it clear: she wasn’t letting anything touch you, not while she could help it.