mira

Mira felt like a Dali painting, a proverbial melting clock on the stone ground, at least she might be reduced to that. But it was only her paws she couldn't see as the lava streamed from them, illuminating the cave in an ethereal glow that could be beautiful if it wasn't insanely terrifying. She was melting, or at least it felt that way. Shouldn't it have hurt, burning alive from molten lava? She could faintly hear the sound of the fire crackling and hissing as it devoured trees and debris just out of her cave. What a mess she has made. How quickly the strong and brave Mira had come undone. At least she wasn't dead yet.

In a wake of this confusion, she finds herself restlessly pacing the narrow confines of her makeshift tomb. A trickle of gossamer magma appeared to fall from her tear ducts as though her golden eyes were crying. Hell, maybe she was. It was hard to tell through that haze of that blinding chaos that wreaked havoc on her form. It was impossible to know what was truly happening to her or figure out how to control it.

She knew people would be coming soon. Fire fighters and bystanders and whomever else would find the beacon that was the mouth of this cave. They would find her and undoubtedly shoot first and ask questions later. She couldn't bring herself to move and cause more damage, trying to turn back was impossible. Within the cave the only one she could damage was herself. The mouth of the cave glowed brightly, its orangey red hue like some hell maw, thankfully it was most likely swallowed up by the unforgiving blaze outside. She tried to find a semblance of calm, grasping at straws only to come up empty as she hopelessly tried to navigate through this mess. She probably looked like a beast spewed up from a hellish volcano. Lava streamed out of her like snakes burrowing their way through the cool ground. Her very skin and fur was replaced by charred volcanic rock, as spidery haphazard cracks exposed what her insides were made of. Lava moved within her very body, it was a wonder that she could maintain this shape, that she could even think or move. How was her brain not reduced to the scorching sludge?

A sound of someone drawing closer caused her snapped her head upward, forgetting that desperation for but a moment that turned into something else. Survival. Her tail curled upward, her sharpened teeth barred in warning. If it was Frost she would have no choice but to attack, to let those coiled muscles go to good use. He may have settled the volcano once before but she wouldn't trust in him to do the right thing. If that was the last thing she could do in this life, at least it wasn't wasted. What surprised her most of all, was the creature that peered into the demonic mouth of that cave was a familiar face. The last time she had seen him was that night she had fallen asleep within his arms. It felt like a year ago but in all actuality it wasn't that long ago. She remembered how to felt being in his arms and how she didn't pull away. It was a connection they both seemed to crave, which was so odd for two fierce predators. Wasn't it? She didn't want to admit that she thought about him after they parted ways or the insane guilt that washed over her when she made a deal with my little pony, the man's mortal enemy.

"Tetradore?" She spoke As if in sync with him in the blatant surprise. Mira? The name curled around her mind, like a brush of fur within her. The nerve wracking knowledge that someone she knew could get caught in this inferno made her anxiety flare. The glow that peered from the cracks of what used to be skin only blazed more brilliantly than before. She could see the raging red glow reflect off his oily black coat, the shine in his eyes reflecting the horror that was her. She looked like a bomb that was about to go off crossed with some lava monster. Most certainly, not her finest hour.

"Please, don't come any closer. I don't want to hurt you." Her powers were unlocked and there was no sign of slowing, she was as unpredictable like the forest fire outside, wild and sinister looking. Yet the expression within her glowing golden eyes seems almost sad. She took several steps back, watching the pool of molten trail she left behind on the ground. At this rate it wouldn't take long before the floor was covered with the red-hot substance that oozed from her. "I can't control it, once it was triggered I became this.. this thing." Her voice sounded heavy.

Frost did this, she wanted nothing more to say in her utter dislike of the man. But that would only be a half truth. It was Negan who hired him, showing up from a grave she thought she left far behind. It meant he knew where she was. There was a feeling of betrayal that she felt so irrevocably strong. Agreeing to Frost's terms to save her own ass felt so very weak in her mind. She felt like a coward, a pitiful mess. She looked away from him for a moment, missing the fact that his skin hardened to that granite hard surface. She wanted to tell him everything but there was so much weighing down upon her and these new powers. Apparently powers incredibly deadly and uncontrollable that it was best if they just consumed her until she faded out.

She didn't know how to explain all that happened. She hardly could make sense of it herself.

Tetradore moved closer to her, her body stiffened as if bracing for his recoil. "Please." She sounded like exhausted whimper which lacked the conviction she wanted it to sound like. But he ignores her feeble warnings, moving toward her, feeling the gentle reassuring press of his now hardened impenetrable skin, cool against her fire that it caused a strange sizzling sound when they came into contact. He seemed unaffected by her unrelenting heat. The contact seemed to unleash a sense of calm within her. Calm she didn't deserve. "What can't you do?" She spoke, amused and yet still grim at her own fate.

She made a deal with the man that killed him after all. Once she realised she wasn't harming him she felt herself press into that affectionate gesture. Mira did not find comfort in touch, no, not normally. But now in this moment, it was like she craved it. Needed it to breathe. How could he touch her and not burst into flames? It had to be another one of his powers. "I don't think everything is going to be ok, not this time." There was a touch of sadness within those laden words. At least if she had to die, she died with her freedom.

He shouldn't be anywhere near her. Not with this Frost business and Negan close on her trail. If he didn't get the results he wanted he would not relent until he got what he wanted. She didn't want her own burdens to weigh down upon Tetradore too. The guilt was tangible that it was practically written all over her face.