Saerian may have thought that Dawn was being dramatic, but he'd never been a teenage girl from California. As if regular teen insecurities weren't enough, she had the added bonus of being a made-up thing made out of world-destroying energy, and trying to pass for normal was a little more difficult than standard.
And she constantly worried about what would happen if she lost control.
People began to whisper, to murmur amongst themselves, shooting fearful glances back at her. Dawn looked at them, then at her glowing hands. Slowly, she knelt down, touching her fingertips to the concrete floor of the Bronze. Emerald ripples shuddered across the floor in a circle, away from her, and as they reached people's feet, the people froze. Slowly, from the feet up, everyone stopped moving, stopped speaking, freezing mid-gesture, mid-word like statues.
The glow faded, although the very tips of Dawn's fingers were still tinged a faint sage hue.