Just as the clouds in a tempest constantly churn and deform, so does Procella's mind easily alter its state.  A fickle spirit is she, and, watching Hisame simply stand in the fire, her rage now shifts to fascination.  Why does this woman simply stay there, watching?  Has she given up hope?  What a poor, poor soul this is- Procella wipes her eyes with her free hand, fearing she might burst into tears over such a tragic tableau.

But what can she do, to this pitiful creature.  Causing her pain will do little good- no doubt the woman was already experiencing far worse than anything Procella could inflict.  What had happened, to render her thus?  The death of a loved one, a husband, a child?  Or perhaps she had been subjected to some terrible torture, horrible enough to break her in mind and body, that made her wish for death?  Oh, pain, that sweetest and saddest of feelings.  

Perhaps, had Procella been a different kind of being, she might have sought to console the poor Hisame, to revive her will to live.  But a storm only knew how to ravage, terrify, and destroy.   Thus, it is with sadness in her heart that Procella unleashes her lightning again, to take a life, end its suffering.  This time, as with the first, it crackles through the air as a single bolt, focused and powerful.

But it is not aimed at Hisame.  Procella is more creative than that, why should she burn that sweet body, when the fire will do her job for her.  Instead, the bolt arcs around Hisame, instead striking the trunk of the tree behind her, burning and shattering the wood.

For a moment, the trunk smoulders and smokes.  It's still intact- but the foundation has been weakened, and the wood has already been strained by the wind.  And so, with a loud and slow creaking, it teeters, then topples, falling towards Hisame- who, trapped between the flames, now lacks the space to avoid being crushed by the heavy trunk.