He sighed and wove the tree back together, kicking at the Spirits trying to play in the dying trunk. The Gods got all the credit, but it was Lesser Gods like him who did all the cleaning up when the youngest of their kind decided a storm born on land in the middle of summer would be fun.
A surge of power tugged at him as he coaxed leaves back onto revived branches. It wasn’t a God, but it felt nearly as powerful as one.
He looked up, startled, toward the human city of S–.