mira ramos

How strange that night a few days prior had turned out to be, where she found herself in the arms of Tetradore within the pillow fortress he made. There wasn't anything sexual about it, it just naturally happened. She hadn't realised it until after the movie was well over and done with that she had fell into a peaceful slumber. She woke to a dimly lit room, warm and comfortable. She felt safe with those strong arms around her and she remembered wriggling close into that comfort. How they wound up like that she wasn't certain and yet it wasn't the worst thing either. She fell back asleep to the rhythmic deep breathing of the man that simply held her. Hell when was the last time she slept in human form? Always on high alert and aware of her surroundings. This was terribly uncharacteristic. Hell inviting the man to watch a movie with her wasn't exactly characteristic either. The meaning of it all, didn't make sense and yet she was ok with it. Confused as hell but she could live with that.

The wolf was somehow made of concrete, her resolve steely and resentful. Then she comes to Sacrosanct it all falls to ruin, as though it were the first time the concrete simply shattered into sand. She had been strong for too long that she hadn't remembered what this felt like. She couldn't deny that it felt nice, that it felt right. She wanted nothing to do with packs, not ever. Yet she found herself dead smack within two sides. Her anxiety lurched within her belly which more felt like a wave of lava crashing within her core like turbulent obscure seas.
She just made it out of that unfortunate run in with Frost. It was revealing, the fact that Negan hired people to find her, the fact that she had unlocked something within her that could not be simply shut off with a convenient valve. It would seem her life could never be simple, it was foolish to think it could ever be that way.

If she was thinking with her right mind she would have noticed the way the ground singed, the way the embers formed and left a glow of lava paw prints in her wake. Most were seemingly put out on their own fizzling out from the damp earth, but really to start a fire all you need is one lucky ember. She got a hell of a lot more than that, it didn't take long before part of the forest was set ablaze, she wasn't aware of it until the thick black smoke caught up with her. The smell of the forest burning smelled like complete and utter despair.

The glowing she-wolf turned her head, the night filling with her glow and now a trail of fire. It didn't take long for it to roar to life, first gaining fuel by devouring dry debris, the next building up its strength to devour trees. How could she have missed this? "Oh shit.. shit.. shit." She viewed her trail of destruction in complete horror, and she knew without a doubt in her mind that she was the catalyst. She was going to burn down the whole forest and there was not a damn thing she could do about it. She wasn't in a form to call for help, she was oozing and melting away into who knows what. Who would she call? For once she didn't know what to do. It wasn't like she could fight her way out of this one. She was afraid to move to make it worse and yet all she wanted to do was run, run until she was nothing more. Her heart beat raced uncontrollably, if she had a heart anymore.

Hell she was like a beacon, her very body was alight, as though burning bright through the cracks of her molten skin. So this was all her. It answered her suspicions that Frost was not the cause of this, he may have trigged the ability but this was all her. Ha, there. Part of her was smug with the idea that she was not just a mere wolf, but something more. Something more powerful than she could ever imagine being. Yet part of her was left in horror. Horror at what it all meant and who or what she would become. Would she ever be able to take a solid shape? Could she ever retain her true wolf form again? Was she doomed to be a puddle for all of eternity? On one hand, she couldn't be captured, and on the other... she was a ball of destruction. Where would she go? Who would she be? The thoughts spurred more chaos within her as the questions kept on piling up. That busy mind churning with more, burdened by it. The blazing flames of the fire surely didn't help. She had to stop spreading the fire, she had to pull herself together somehow.

It was in that moment she saw a decent sized amount of rocks forming into what seemed like a jagged maw of a cave. She moved toward it as quickly as her legs would carry her, she could probably melt the rocks but she would probably do far less damage that what she was doing to the forest she had grown so fond of. It was her safest bet, if she could get to safety she could formulate a plan, if there was anything left of her to formulate a plan. A sound of frustration tore from her, guttural and almost sad. She entered the mouth of the cave, that reddish glow flooding the walls. She was like a living nightlight.

By the time she made it to the dark cave, now illuminated by her molten glow she paced wildly the stone ground sizzled against her heat, charring from her touch. She was leaking from her eyes like she was crying, hell, maybe she was. She was also leaking profusely from her paws, from her skin that cracked away, she wondered if she had skin anymore, it seemed more like a charred rock substance. Mira had no idea how to control it, she tried desperately to control her breathing to stop that incessant chattering of her heart that rattled within her burning core. It all failed. She braced herself, as if expecting impact. Her mind roared with the ferocity of a flame unable to come up with coherent though. What has she become?