A bellow.

A haunting, chilling, breathtaking, exhilarating call that was a voice so powerful, rippling throughout the cold damp and wet air. Heavy with a hoarse, earthy sound, his call did not go unheard even though he was miles away. Caught in an endless expanse of nothing and everything all at once.

The call... no, this triumphant yell was the voice of every animal that could not, and it echoed throughout time and space itself. Set in stone, breaking the marble slab. Shattering the pale and hidden world of the animal. This bellow was so much more than a noise.

It said, "I AM HERE!," in a full and rusted trumpeting declaration. Everything else was far outmatched.

Then fell the silence, only the minute recoil of the echoing that faded filled the void.

Such a sound like that... cannot be beaten. The beast cannot be beaten. It will not. The chilled, clammy air was still. Very, very still. It dare not warp the sound. And it broke easily when the call was made. Warmth visibly leaving the beasts mouth, only to fade, too. A ghostly apparition in the mist.

But words cannot compare to the true experience.