mira ramos

The forest felt ancient as though it possessed a very pulse within the dark with rich greens and pale silvery moon light illuminating all it can permeate through the dense foliage. The moon and its silvery luxurious glow calls to her, calls to the limbs that ache to run, her heart that burst to be free. The wind produces a hissing and rattling sound betwixt the leaves and groaning limbs of trees.

She needed to run, for some time now. Mira could not ignore that call any longer.

The midnight hued wolf welcomes this world, becomes it as the forest lulls her toward it, it roars through her skull unable to ignore it. She was restless tonight; her body ached to be set free. But in this little reverie she could not seem to snap out of; she had felt odd somehow. As though there is a crucial yet small piece missing from her puzzle, it doesn't fit quite right with that missing piece. It constricts that wild heart that runs rampant as she runs without abandon within that forest that beckons and welcomes her in all ways. She belongs here, the midnight wolf in a sea of trees and secretive forest creatures. One could pretend they were far, far away from the frantic city. They could almost forget the sound of vehicles and the bustle of the usual routine, even at night. It was a city that never slept. But here, she could give in with her true self.

For a moment, Mira is content even though that nagging feeling would not subside. She does not slow her hastened and frantic pace until meets the edge of clearing, a seemingly abandoned meadow that is almost too silent save for the billowing rustling of the tall grass she wades within them like walking into the gentle shallow ocean. Her pace is no more than a slow premediated walk, precise and deliberate strides. One paw placed carefully placed almost one foot after the next as if she is concerned with triggering a trap. Another trap similar to the one that had once chomped down on her hind leg that has since fully healed. She dreads this feeling, an uneasiness creeping its way within, intermingling with this feral embrace.

It was quiet, almost too quiet within the clearing.

There is a moment where she feels like she is being watched, that creepy crawly sensation of eyes boring into her flesh. She moves toward a smooth boulder, leaping with a seamless ease onto that perch. She peers out into the darkness, illuminated by that silvery glow of moonlight alone. Her night vision pierces through that darkened veil with seamless ease.

For a moment, Mira peers up at the cloudless sky, the moon almost too vibrant. Tilting her head she closes her eyes. She does not restrain that almost mournful call, releasing a wolf's poignant song into the submissive night. There was something about this howl that sounds eerie, sad and yet hauntingly beautiful all at once. Her melancholy melody is laced with sentiment, known only to her as it bleeds into that sky. It is as if Mother Nature would somehow respond to her. But why would it notice this one lone black wolf in the woods?

Why would anyone? In fact it is only her song that could be heard, drowning out the crickets and June bugs. It assaults the serene quietude. The notes seem to melt within the woodland, reverberating off trees and absorbed within the magic of this forest. It was something alive, unlike nothing she has ever felt before.

The wolf does not feel lonely in the forest; she is a part of it.

That was until a branch cracks and the wolf is stifled, whipping her head around almost violently, still remaining upon her boulder. That acute golden gaze sliced through the submissive dark to focus on the creature that disturbs this peaceful solitude.