She's usually without emotion. Calm, placid, more or less uncaring of the world around her and the problems it poses. She can ignore one of the beasts up to the point they think she simply cannot hear their words. It takes skill.

Every so often, though, she breaks this demeanor. She is not entirely without emotion. I've seen her smile a few times. Frown a few more.

How do you do it, I asked. How are you always so able to keep your cool.

She looked me in the eyes and said, "I don't."

It can be something very simple, she explains. A set of threads that just won't cooperate. A canvas that escapes off just as she's finishing up. A beast that just won't take a hint. Maybe it was a collection of all of these. A series of misfortunes.

But she does sometimes lose it. I would never have known had I not seen it firsthand. And how does one in the realm alleviate stress?

By going absolutely wild.

I was attracted by a commotion on a street as I was floating through a rural section of a city I do not know the name of. Screams. Yells. Yips and whines and barks, echoing silently off the airless space around me. Just a audible mass of drama, accompanied by a visual mess of colors. And in the middle of it all, with a white flashing glow that shone brighter than the sun, but still did not reflect off any surfaces, was her.

She was furious. She tore at the threads like she was kneading noodles. She juggled the spools back and forth, once at a time, blasting away at each one as though immensely practiced. Her eyes glared with a focus so intense that she would not have seen my own hand if I waved it in front. The light of her skin pulsed so quickly I feared she would have burst into sparks. I even could've sworn I felt a radiant heat emitting from her; something you don't just experience in the realm for no reason.

The humans were not enjoying this. I mean, these weren't humans who went through their days just praying to the divines that they could cast away their human limitations and adapt a more bestial form without scientific reason. These were just humans walking down the road, minding their own business and getting along with their lives. None of them were expecting this. None of them even wanted this. And they weren't afraid to express their displeasure in the most dynamic ways possible.

They were caught in a mix of confusion and chaos. Their knees numbed and vibrated from the shock of the perception of their world exploding all around them. When they saw a part of their body that did not at all resemble their last known original default, there was tugging, scraping, scratching, and slapping involved. When they saw what was happening to others, it multiplied their own suspicions towards it happening to themselves as well. A couple of them even pressed hard into their skin, trying to stop it if it was some kind of parasitic bug that spread to them. Even the innocent bystanders watching this spectacle was dancing around, trying to see if the same was happening to them.

Adomm was not trying to be subtle about anything. It didn't matter if the humans knew what was happening to them this time. They felt each and every strand of fur burst out of their skin. If they tried to run, she threw them back to the ground by twisting their backs and feet. Their cries for help echoed through the sky, but she made no effort to silence them. She didn't even look like she was enjoying this. That this was instead something that absolutely had to be done for the betterment of the world.

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I was afraid of her. I was just as afraid of her as the three leathery red monsters behind me and the seventeen wisps all around making maximum effort to put as much distance between them and her as possible. Within minutes, the realm around us was nothing but empty space save for myself and her.

With a swift, final fling of the hands, she released the bundle of threads she had affixed to her tail. Five of them. Five spools of thread from five newly completed canvases. I didn't even know she could handle two at once. They soared into their respective hosts' bodies, who all ran off in staggered steps; their overloaded minds resetting to the primal need to escape and hide.

Then it was done, and it was silent. Slowly, her hands fell to her sides, her tail dropped down, her eyes fell closed, her entire body relaxed, and she was once again at peace with the world. Her glow dimmed back down to a friendly shine and the flickering subsided to a soft pulse.

My judgement at the time was that if I tried to leave, she would chase me down or hate me forever. I was drawn to approach her as though she was a more powerful black matter being than I am.

"Are you alright?" I asked; the only safe thing to say that I could think of.

She nodded, slightly and quickly, her eyes still closed. She doesn't breathe, but I still saw her chest expand and retract. At this point I figured it was an instinctive reaction.

"What... did I just do?" she asked, her diamond-shaped eyes glancing at me with a voice so quiet and innocent, like a preschool child asking why she got a question wrong on a test.

"You turned five humans into foxes." I answered, looking down the road. They were gone from sight at this point, but they wouldn't have made it far. Most likely they were hiding somewhere as they recollected their thoughts and went through the arduous process of convincing themselves they were dreaming. Several humans remained, speaking frantically into their portable communication devices and covered in sweat that they were struggling to wipe away from their still-widening eyes.

".. normal foxes?" she asked.

I looked at her, then back down the road.

"Aside from still wearing clothes, as far as I can tell-"

"Four legs?" she interrupted, "One tail? One head, all proper? No extra or missing limbs?"

"It looked like it to me." I nodded.

She was silent for a bit. I looked at her once more. She was staring at her hands and slender, pointed fingers.

"They weren't... attached to one another? Or to other objects?" she slowly mouthed aloud.

I hesitated. What did she mean by that? I looked out down the road once more. The human stragglers were starting to disperse. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse one of the canvases in their hiding place. Funny how easy it is to forget they have an extra limb that needs an equal amount of attention when concealing themselves.

"... if you mean relation-wise, I don't know, but physically... no, they weren't attached. They were as normal as I've seen."

She relaxed even more.

"Good." she said, "I managed to keep it together this time."

A part of me wondered what she did when she lost it completely. The rest of me convinced that one part that I really REALLY did not want to know.

"Does this sort of thing happen often with you?" I asked.

"No." she answered, "Enough that it is an issue of mine, but not enough for me to learn to handle it."

I asked what has triggered her, but she refused to talk about it, instead returning to stare at her hook-tipped fingers. I then took it on my own to dismiss myself from the conversation and allow her some time to herself. She appreciated the gesture and waved a farewell.

Without anything better to do, I returned to the computer I had hidden in the shed and drew out the scene as I remembered it. To think that even Adomm had mood swings like that. Knowing what she can do, I now hold a bit of caution towards her. Caution and respect.

Respect your friends, folks. You don't want to learn what they can do when they're not all there.