Scent of Weakness: Lionheart [Amaranta]

The Plains of Africa had grown more and more tumultuous. As Amaranta did her usual rounds checking in on humans, looking for faces to punch, and no doubt being a little pest to anyone who looked fun enough. Her pesquisa would pick up something rather unsual. A rather large group of hollows.

A nearby Village was one of the many makeshift shelters that had been erected by Refugees. Places of relative safety thanks to the distance from the Chasm itself being more or less miles away from the danger zone around the Chasm Region. At most, Amaranta likely only ever encountered one or two hollows a day, perhaps Four if something was drawing them in. But as her pesquisa tingled and fed her a bit of information about the disturbance, she'd feel a greater sense of the creatures that were descending on the village and overwhelming the local Vandenreich that were stationed.

No less than Fifteen Hollows, rampaging around the little village. People were screaming, running away in groups or breaking off to try and hoof it alone. And a number of the hollows were circling around trying to catch all of the runners, viciously ripping into them, or just holding them down and peeling their souls right out of their bodies to be consumed separate from their kishin shells.

The perfect brawl for a sporting young feline to get her licks in, yes?