The powerful Divine Eagle emerged from the dark waters of that vast river, causing a loud splashing sound as if another explosion had occurred on the surface.
As soon as the water settled back on the river, Morpheus could be seen flying steadily in the air above the river, his majestic golden wings and their seemingly metallic feathers spread to their fullest, flinging all the water droplets away, leaving not just wings but the rest of his body dry.
By the time he eyed the destroyed part of the mountain, Morpheus looked as if he never touched the water in the first place.
His golden orbs stared at the trees ahead; they were still burning because one distressed dragon could not control himself. Maybe it was by pure luck—or that reckless dragon had a little bit of sanity left—but this part of the forest was one far from any of the cities or settlements, thus, only the wild animals should have been affected by his rampage.
