Mag stood upon the tallest tree of Krosa, his long green robe flapping in the wind. Glancing down he could see what appeared to be moving trees, but were really Treefolk and Saprolings. Nemata stood by the trunk watching them with his blazing eyes while leaning on his staff. His master's keen eyes searched the skies. Suddenly Mag spotted a bird plummeting towards him. Drawing on his lands, he flung up his hand and from it came a ball of green light. It crackled with energy. Mag brought his splayed fingers together, and a beam came from his palm. It intercepted the white bird, encasing it in a net of vines. The creature fell to the ground, where a Saproling seized it.
Looking down, Mag spotted the one creature that wasn't related to a tree. A cat. It's bristling fur stood on end as he called to it. As it drew nearer to the tree, the Treefolk edged away, followed by the Saprolings. Mag jumped from the tree, and landed beside the golden feline. It purred as he scratched behind its giant ears. Muttering, he sent sparks skidding along the delicate hairs. The green points of light seemed to sink through its skin, and several seconds after they did so the cat began to grow. Five feet, seven feet, thirteen feet, eighteen feet tall it was when the feline stopped expanding. The claws that protruded slightly from the heavy paws were like curving swords. The teeth that sparkled in its mouth were three feet long and sharper than anything.
The cat crouched down and Mag whispered in its ear. It straightened, and dashed off through the trees, as fast as if it were wearing seven-league boots. Mag grasped the end of a branch that hung from the tree beside him. It moved and deposited him in the uppermost leaves of the oak. Gazing from his vantage point, he saw a straw colored blur moving through the forest. He settled down, content that the creature would do it's job well.