Mira had been growing rather stir crazy in this apartment while she healed, it was miserable and she couldn't even pace to help the time slip by. She managed to read some random books she found stashed away in a cupboard somewhere, but that was not enough to sate the wolf that wanted to run free. She had not been beaten up this bad with silver, she had to at least give credit to that self-proclaimed werewolf king, he at least kept the hunter population down to a minimum. The only solace she had was running one with the wolf inside of her through the forest where she truly felt like she belonged. Those uninhibited outings had given her some semblance of control she needed, feeling the rhythmic soft pounding of her paws against the decayed foliage within the dense canopy. Her spirit soared as though it connection with nature in that primal sort of way, where her thoughts didn't matter and it was only her and that living organism, the woodlands and its creatures that dwelled there. All she could do was dream, trapped within the walls of that apartment, tending to her wounds that left a silvery mark in the form of band around her back leg. But the healing was not worst part, it was the delusions brought on from the poisons, she thought she was losing her mind for at least several days.

The sound of that guttural grunt only made it for dead certain that it was Tetradore within the confines of that pillow fort. Hey at least she caught her own little faux pas before she fully committed to the name which only brought the man grief at the almost utterance of his true name.

If she did not meet Tetradore that very night, she might have stayed within the northern forest, like a ghost haunting its boarders, it wasn't certain if she would have met a single soul at all. Yet if you asked her past self if she would have seen herself here at this very moment, lost in the generosity of a stranger. Nope she would have never imagined herself being within this cozy flat. Even still, not even her wildest of dreams would she imagine that magnificent pillow fort that now consumed the bed she once slept in. Not to mention it was constructed by the very moody panther that curled up inside its confines with the most delicious smelling cookies. He by no means seemed like a cookie man but the panther king was most certainly full of surprises and she realised how much she simply did not know.

Mira moved quickly and light-footed diagonally across the apartment, not coming empty handed. As she peered into that fort with those burning golden eyes, that juvenile smile fades as he stares blankly at her, right through her. It was as though she might have not existed in that very moment, as though those emerald eyes stared right through her, like she was hollow. Wordlessly, she offered him that offering of refreshing milk to accompany his cookies. He seemed so lost, like a misplaced spirit of a child within that fort he made, as he almost too gingerly took that glass from her offering grip.

In return she surprisingly received payment in the form of a chocolate cookie. Score! Cookies and milk in a pillow fort, if only the tone wasn't so dismal. However, it was a welcomed distraction from that creeping nagging feeling she felt out in the exposed open of the city while she wandered the streets like a lost little lamb. Even if she was the wolf in sheep's clothing. It has been a long while since the woman seemed so out of place, severed of all ties that once bound her like a slave to a pack she didn't believe in.

She sits at the entrance of that fort careful not to intrude too entirely, despite that desired urge to curl up inside that den was almost too much to resist. He contemplates as debating if he was going to answer her concerned question, the conflict was evident upon his drawn features, this inner turmoil he was suffocating by. It must have been bad for this nonchalant man to let his emotions show, as though they leaked through the holes of his sinking ship.

At long last after what seems like a moment that carries far too long in utter silence, save for the sound of the fridge that hummed like a buzzing electrical bee, she almost abandons the idea of getting anything out of him. She would simply sit here and let him brood if that was what he needed. It was the least she could do, after all, he had went over and beyond the call of duty allowing her to seek shelter here while she healed her debilitating wound. Well that time had come and it was almost time to consider the next steps, entirely unsure where that would take her. She didn't want to overstay her welcome, despite how comfortable she had become within confines that felt oddly safe to the woman.

His voice slips from him devoid of any kind of emotion, his eyes lost in a wicked storm from within himself. She didn't dare twitch a muscle or make a movement, which was harder than it seemed holding the cookie and glass of milk as if she were frozen, as if one moment would stop the freefall of words from his moving lips. She simply listens to his explanation that he offers her and yet the more he hides that dark emotion the more seemed to show. Those quiet words show his pain probably more than he even realised. He brought up his sister who had finally shattered the last ties of that seemingly fragile bond between them.

She shook her head in distaste, she had made her share of bad decisions but didn't the suffering of her brother even cross his sister's mind? Tetradore had lost his cherished girlfriend to the cold man that chased her from his arms and now he lost his sister. Mira could not help but wonder if this was Frost's intention all along. "If she was truly choosing her children, she wouldn't want them around a sociopath." She admits her words are almost soft in contemplation. This was a tangled mess for that she was sure. She could see the madness it caused him, a war of pain slicing him up inside with a million cuts until he had no choice but to bleed out.

"This isn't your fault. She made her choice in mates, despite knowing exactly what he has done to you and yours. She seems like she is lashing out at you from her own blinding turmoil to make herself seem more justified in her actions. I'm sorry, Tetradore. I know it means very little but give it some time, Frost will not be able to hide is true colours for long." She truly was, she knew he hurt because he cared for the fate of his sister and she couldn't seem to see the place it came from. They were mere words that were probably entirely useless to the man who had seemed so entirely lost in this moment, drowning in his thoughts. Her own pangs of nostalgia hung saturated and heavy within her, she missed her family, she hadn't seen them since she turned and she doubted she ever will. It was a choice she had come to terms with years ago. She could never keep them safe being what she was, not with her own monsters at her own door step and the monster she had become. The only comfort she had, was at least knowing that they were safe from harm. She could live with that. Cutting ties was the only solution to keep them safe from being held captive as leverage.

Maybe just maybe she could coax an eye roll, or something out of the man. "You know if you want to call in that favour I owe you, I wouldn't object to a little kidnapping. It might open a whole new can of worms with Frost, but I am not sure if that is unavoidable." Mira smirks at the man, fully anticipating his reaction of possible shrugs, eye rolling or perhaps a scoff if she was lucky. But perhaps it would be enough to pull him out of his funk for but a moment. After all, stranger things had happened and they were in a pillow fort with cookies and milk, the possibilities were endless. If one thing were certain it was she was willing to help that grumpy kitty that sulked in the back of that plushy stronghold.

She brought the chocolate chip cookie to her glass, dipping it within that milk before tasting that delicious morsel, a childhood habit that she seemed to carry into adulthood. It had been far too long since the perfect blend of cookie and chocolate, drenched with the perfect consistency of milk crossed her lips. Damn, it tasted like perfection in her mouth. There was something all too soothing about cookies and milk, perhaps it had been a childhood comfort she still didn't realise she found solace in.

Mira Ramos