The force of the gale that the Wyvern whipped up with its wings was strong enough to physically force me back multiple steps, and when I almost lost my footing it threatened to fling me into the air and back against a tree.
It was powerful, but the worst part about it was being pelted by all the various bits of debris on the ground that all happened to be rather deadly in their own right; the twigs were zipping through the air like arrows while jagged rocks and pebbles pelted the trunks around us, cracking against the bark and leaving little to the imagination in terms of power.
What was hitting us all though were the various leaves and needles on the ground, their thinness turning them into the perfect projectiles that sliced at whatever bits of flesh were exposed, and one had gotten dangerously close to my eye, leaving a thin cut right beside my eyebrow.
