Cyclone

 

Tendrils of water-heavy wind swirled and whipped around a tall elegant figure. To look at him, one could hardly tell where his mane and tail ended and where the wind began. Bright silvery eyes roved over his surroundings, watching as the gale swept over the land. 

 

As whirlwinds formed all about, picking up wet leaves and sending them dancing their circular jigs with gusto, those eerie silvery eyes gazed about in a pleased manner. The glint in them was perhaps not entirely stable.

 

Others sometimes tend to avoid his presence, or at least leave it quickly when the drop in air pressure made them funny in the head as well. One does not play pranks on this fellow, not even Sham.

 

His islands ranged over a stretch of sea far and wide as the eye can see, beaches and rock cliffs and uncontrolled vegetation. In some regions the plants are so twisted one can easily tell Cyclone's funnels have dropped right down to give the plant life a twirl to shake things up a bit. The green things and even the delicate-seeming flowers and vines were sturdier than they looked, outlasting frequent sudden storms and the high winds whipping them every which way in drenching tempests.

 

"Mad as a hatter", Sham has called him. And his only response was a silvery unfathomable gleam that made Sham sure Cyclone took some sort of pleasure in the label.  "Windbag" is another fond nickname, though you'd best be sure of his regard for you before you use it.

 

Hair gel? Don't bother if you'll be around Cylcone, or near his domain.  Just enjoy the 'windblown' look.