In the War of the Ancients, he channeled the tides of the Well of Eternity into the roots of the ancient trees, birthing living thorns that entangled the demon legions. Though long asleep in the Emerald Dream, his fury never dulled— upon awakening, he tore open the corrupted fissures of Ashenvale with his bare hands, reversing the spread of void tendrils into glowing grasses that purified the land. Now, wherever he steps, metal rusts into fertile soil, and rogue arcane constructs are crushed into dust by erupting roots. Night Elf sentinels once saw him atop Mount Hyjal, pressing a fel meteor back into the volcanic maw: "Flame is meant to temper life, not extinguish it."