Punts Saxby

“Howl for me, monster, but know that’s all you’ll do!” Saxby laughed in the glow of a fire he’d lit across the river. “I know your beginning and your end! I’ve tasted your power.”
“And now I’ll make you drink it,” she promised. “To the dregs.” A fist of air struck the burning river and cut a gash down to the rocks below. The banks swelled, great waves rising on either side of the gash. Ryn crossed the barren divide made by her storm, glinting claws splayed at her sides.
Saxby reeled, kicking up dirt as he positioned like a cat to pounce, launching into the air where he tried to fly clear of her approach. His wings beat, he climbed a spiral path—and she sunk her fist low, winding the maelstrom around behind him. She caught him by his own wings, and with bullet force cast him to the earth. Trees exploded, sheared by his mass, and he left a hundred-foot furrow of raised ground and splintered stumps.


Chapter 22, page 336-337