[center][h2][color=a0410d]Sam Cross[/color][/h2][/center]

A breathless silence flowed into the room. Samantha's glower turned to a challenging look as Liam sprouted tufts of fur from his body and his nose and mouth elongated into a muzzle. The man began to rise, once towering her before the transformation, now proving to dwarf her. A smile oddly came to don his face as dust orbited him. Throughout the change, there was a tone that this power he held was one that was ancient and wise, though deadly. This starkly contrasted the half-dragon, who's air held one of fiery ferocity. In this moment it was as if two titans were poised for collision, at least it did to her, and she was ready. 

The woman was on the edge of pulling back on some control, like loosening a leash on the fire she was managing to tame, when Liam spoke, his voice holding one of a respectful visage that washed over her like an old, stale breeze. He explained that he, himself, was the one that he had been referring to all this time, and that, in fact, he truly respected and understood her point of view! All that he had said had been to rouse her. She stood still, for a long time as the two bantered on, confused. Here she was: muscles tightened, heart racing, and eyes painting her vision red. She was so ready for the attack and yet now it was made aware to her that the two were in fact of a like mind? Sam had understood that the exercise had been done for the sake of bringing about her anger, but she had been totally convinced that this asshat had meant everything he said. The woman stood there utterly dumbfounded and not sure quite what to do. She wasn't sure whether to laugh at the hilarity of it all, to cry from relief, or to rage at deception. It was like all of these emotions were left to swirl around in her belly, a belly that all of a sudden found itself an inch away from a blade!

All at once the world that had once been still from her raced at a staccato pace. Her scaled arms flinched to protect her stomach. They had been too slow. If it wasn't for the mystery blade missing its mark, she would have been done for. With her guard having been down, there had been no chance of her taking the blade favorably. 

Adrenaline pumped through her veins from the near death experience, like narrowly missing being run over from a car. Her burning gaze finally locked onto what was going on. The room had suddenly crowded with a great load of people, two of which were now at her feet. There was one with a ghostly green fire about him, resembling Hecarim, and on top of him was a woman with brilliant bright armor, resembling Garen. This woman was the one who had saved her! It was odd, this moment, because it was as if she instantly felt allied to this warrior. They were on the same side. An unexplained amount of patriotism rose inside her and finally Sam identified this bond. [b]Demacia[/b]. Just as the woman made this connection she was shocked to find her protector to be attacked, flying off of the man. 

Her reaction was of swift, uncontrolled rekindled rage. Unknowingly she let out a blood curdling roar, her body quickly reigniting as if it had been brought back to life with a gallons of gasoline. Before she could react, however, a man rushed forward, putting a hand on the demon's shoulder, a gripping, purple energy flowing between them. Sam rushed to take advantage of the immobility, rushing forward, burning chairs and tables in her path. She primed her arm to hit, only to find herself suddenly knocked away, hit with a ball of ice. [i]What the hell?[/i] The woman looked down to see for a split second herself coated with an icy frost before it floated away into steam. The ice should have broken a bone, but with the fiery rage that she now held, the heat having risen to a dangerous height, she only gasped to suck in more air, it having been forced out of her lungs.

Sam forced herself to a stand, but found that Hecarim had forced himself to a fall, slowly reverting himself to his regular form. He had stopped. The woman looked at herself and found her whole body engulfed in flame again. She closed her eyes to try and will it to reduce, but it was harder than the last time. She made her head fall into her hands, hoping to focus. She desperately worked to calm her breathing and think of a happy place or something to calm her anger and form. It wasn't working and the more she tried, the more exhausted she became. Sam kept on, but with each try a new emotion began to mount: panic. It only worked to fan the flames even more. "[color=a0410d]Fuck...[/color]" she cursed under her breath. Sam frantically looked around at the people of the room. The fire of her body seemed to fluctuate madly. She continued to curse. Every moment she struggled to resist, it decayed briefly before it raced back to life, again, as her will became more and more exhausted. The half-dragon worked out a cry for help. "[color=a0410d]Someone, please! I'm trying, but I can't![/color]"

[center][@Eklispe][@Leolycan][@rivaan][@TheWinchester4][@Ambra][@Adalrod][@DFA][/center]