There was a tremendous, deafening cry that seemed to rattle the very teeth in his jaw. He had sensed the subtle violence and power of the dead dragon’s voice, had heard the roar of the young dragon he fought in Firthengart. This… This was something more potent, something vital and primal and alive with all the fury and destruction of a forest fire and the same cold disregard for all in its path as a snowstorm. He could not tell what direction it came. It seemed to be from everywhere at once, and he whirled on the spot, trying to discern where the dragon was.