Times like this are dark, dismal even. Mir walks with the gloom surrounding her. It's been a year since the dreams started, and how long since being granted her new body? She's not certain. She doesn't count the days anymore. She's an adult now, even if part of her misses the days of her youth. She should see if Fiora ever made it back to Elysium, but what would she say after so long? And would Fiora even believe her, that she walked in a new body?

Today, she seeks what little supplies she can eke out. The Howff has a manner of attracting chaos, and when she smells blood on the tracks, she supposes she shouldn't be surprised. She follows the bloody footprints to their natural end: a wolf she doesn't recognize. Instinct says to strike fast and hard, but that contradicts the point of the Howff, doesn't it? The Howff welcomes people, and Mir supposes more people to know of her miracle work wouldn't hurt.

"It's a sign," she says, keeping her posture neutral. "I have heard such things are common in lands beyond our dream."