with the POWER to DESTROY;
There is a story behind the dark wolf, a story she would most likely never share with another soul, she wasn't much of a talker. You know, like those people that share their whole life story to any old stranger with a trustworthy face that asks. No, that will be a story never told. Mira had escaped the psychotic werewolf that turned her, the one that wanted to build his pack into some kind of super force army. He wanted to be king of the wolves or some bullshit delusions he believed in, but that's all they needed these days was belief, power and followers. Then you were all screwed. She wanted no part in his tyranny; he was a sadistic son of a bitch, rotten to the very core. When she was human he had lured her one night by taking her mother hostage in the backyard, perilous teeth at her throat holding her motionless and helpless. She could still remember her mother's whimpers and it broke her heart. There was no second thought to it, she traded her life for theirs and she never saw her family again. He truly didn't want her parents, he wanted the youth, the strong to execute this army he wished for so badly that it overpowered reason. Power turned the sanest of souls into raging lunatics, believing in the lies and poison they spread. It wasn't the wolf that was chilling to the very bone, it was the man behind it. He had turned her, ravaged her body in the most terrible of way to exert his dominance, to instill fear into his followers. The savage had ruled on fear, hell, he fed off of it.
It was that fateful brutal night five years ago that had altered her path resolutely, changed her everything. The year in which had have forged her into this creature of solitude, the pack was nothing but a curse and brought nothing but brutality and manipulation. It was now, a fracture of a moment in time when she was able to escape. To flee the pack that turned her into something cold and impenetrable to survive. One had to, in order to do the horrible things they had forced her to do. She had been on the road for weeks with not much more than a few belongings and the clothes on her back. She drove for weeks, driving until her broken car gave its last breath. It brought her far enough, she thought. No one would recognize it, she set it ablaze, meeting its true demise, as if she set flame to her past. If she thought back on it the lone wolf would have found a bitter poetry in it.
With one last pensive gaze at her vehicle, she took off with haste into the nearby forest at the side of the road, with nothing but her clothes and a small backpack of clothing and some money. She had the no idea where she was going, only that she was going where the wind took her. Night wore its lavish, tantalizing gown of darkness and starlight that lit her path within the dormant forest. Barren trees like giants offered her shelter, concealing her from prying eyes creaking from the icy breeze that toyed with her luscious hair. What she would give for a shower and shelter. When life didn't have anything to offer, you turn to self and that self was her wolf. The only creature in this world she could count on, it would aid in her survival and protect her from the harshness of the world.
The call of the wolf stirred as if a majestic creature awoke from a peaceful slumber, unable to ignore the silvery glow of the moon overhead. The dark haired woman closed her eyes and exhaled, aromas already started to swirl in what seemed like a chaotic tornado, assaulting and overwhelming her acute senses. A rumble escaped her parted lips, both feral and impatient. Okay, okay, she thought as the coiling desire of the hunt waged a war upon her human senses, both warm and trill. It was a war often lost willingly as she lost all inhibitions and gave into the very creature that gave her solace and made her feel whole. It called to her like a siren's song and she welcomed it. She left her belongings in shelter of a pine tree, but not after travelling a fair distance, but who knows how far she had truly travelled. She removed her clothes with feverish haste, leaving her with nothing but the hint of a smile upon her lips.
The change was brutal and immediate. She was thrown to the snow laden ground with a violent thud, the pain almost a welcoming familiarity. Her body merged into the wolf she had dearly embraced. The wolf's pelt was as pitch as pitch-black oil, a luscious thick coat the seemed to gleam in the moon's silvery caress. She melted with the darkness, save for small silvery diamond shaped embellishment across her chest and the stark white snow that embellished the ground.
The trees were naked and creaking from the firm icy, arctic breeze that seems to torment them. Despite her backdrop, she felt empowered and alive, she was wolf and she was finally free. It felt like tiny sparks of electricity danced upon her skin, urging her to move. She began to move through the foreign forestry, giving into her more feral urges, to hunt. The smell of prey assaulted her nostrils conversantly with an overwhelming sensation, it danced before her as the pangs of hunger drove the dark wolf.
The she-wolf moved with a graceful purpose, as if dancing betwixt the ancient tree trunks and avoiding obstacles that lay in her way with a practiced ease. She tracked the scent upon the frozen wind that was in her favour, down wind. The image of prey caught her intelligent amber gaze and came into a sharp hyper focus. Like a sniper with its target, she honed in on her prize she had every intention of earning. With an impressive burst of speed she leapt into action as the hare became alerted to her presence. The snow hardly held her back as that inhuman speed almost made the game of the hunt like child's play but none the less exhilarating.
The chase was cut short, when an abrupt movement caught the Mira unaware.
It was a carefully concealed trap and it was silver, the movement was the flash of silver that gleamed in the moon's light as it snapped shut. It bit relentlessly into her leg as it was intended to do, the more she struggled the more it bit into her flesh. She snarled viciously, snapping at the silver with a feral rage. Fuck, this was no good and it would take a bit of time to find her way out of this one. Her stomach, for a moment forgot how hungry it was, overpowered with the urgency of escaping. The pain she could deal with, healing she was quite good at, but being trapped, caged and unable to move, that was a whole new kind of hell. She knew she could escape before whoever set that trap decided to show up, or at least that was her intention.
MIRA RAMOS
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