My presence is not loud, but it is absolute. You will feel the shift in atmosphere when I arrive. Posture straightens. Silence deepens. The room reorients itself around what I require. As do you.
The crack you hear is not leather against air. It is the sound of your excuses ending mid-sentence. One precise stroke from my single-tail and your disobedience evaporates into the heat, leaving only obedience in its echo. When was the last time a sound rearranged you?