Gemotions

"Bastards," he muttered under his breath, his voice raw. The words seemed to vibrate through his entire frame, adding to the simmering rage that threatened to boil over. He felt a peculiar tightening in his chest, a deep ache that seemed to radiate outwards. The air around him suddenly felt heavy, thick, charged.

He kicked at a small, fallen twig, sending it sailing through the air. A restless energy coursed through his veins, making his skin prickle. He crossed his arms and looked at the ground, and a new tension pulled at him, a physical pressure he had difficulty explaining. He closed his eyes, imagining the tree's powerful trunk, its rough bark. The image intensified the internal pressure, and he struggled to contain it.