Delaena leaned against the tree, breathing heavily. The winds were growing weaker as her strength was depleting. She knelt beside the tree and closed her eyes tightly, one hand on the rough bark, one hand pressed to the earth below. She pulled at the energy there, and pressed into the trees a cry for help. Why they would help against another of their creatures, she didn't know. The lizard folk had been there long before womankind, but she had faith. She had to have faith; she always had. Her eyes opened and looked at the swirling of dust and smoke, some of the trees and ground scorched where her lightning had struck, masses of blood and body parts and smoldering corpses.<br/><br/>For a moment she was nauseated. Her faith had had her mostly peace-loving, unlike much of her kind. Then, with a rush of blood, her upbringing, from childhood, rushed forth. With a sudden burst of energy the priestess stood and lifted her hands again. The lightning returned, with ten times the force it had had. She was not a tentative young woman now, but a priestess with people to protect.