Aah, hell. While Therion has chosen to be one Sir Not-Appearing-in-This-Dogfight, he is down on the field, and he sees the dragon launch its hailstorm of earthen junk at the people fighting it. His people. Nuh-uh, not today, Satan. Not if he has any say in it.

He closes his eyes, exhales, and centers himself on the ground far below the fighting. Here in the Outlands, Therion's more connected to his magic than ever, and for once it's easy to sink into that newer, wilder, less self-serving power he developed in his time at the Academy.

His dance is like a panther's, all swift moves and claws. The whole time, his focus remains fixed on Iriceli's shielding sphere. As a result, Iriceli and those in their bubble receive a temporary speed boost.

Don't get smashed up there, guys.