It is, perhaps, a very good thing that Raven never made it to his feet.

There is less distance for him to fall.

Both knees hit the ground this time, and it takes a great deal of effort to raise his head, black eyes fixed on the vast spinning storm that is the Dark unleashed.

He still isn't laughing. The Dark, it must be said, is really beginning to piss him off.

One hand lifts, slamming down hard on the earth in front of him. Heat haze leaks from between his fingers, building behind his eyes.

And then it flares, rushing outward and upward, a breakwater of power and heat and the Wild.