Weekends in a city were awful. There was too many lights, noises, and people. Or maybe it was Citlali’s senses being oversensitive with the new moon only a few days away. It would be her first one in the city. So far it had been terrible. What had made it worse was the disgusting ichor of a spirit she had encountered earlier, she almost couldn’t consider it a spirit anymore. It was nothing more than a living cesspool of horror. She had spent most of the day trying to track it. Po had tried following it for her but had been chased off before it could infect the good spirit.
So here Citlali was trying to track it in the physical world, which she usually only did in extreme situations because it usually ended in a bloody hunt. Though, the jaguar supposed, this was a good way to get over the hyperstimulation the city had been causing her. Stalking through the city she was glad she had dressed for the nightlife in sleek leather pants and loose crop top. She was both hunter and bait for the night. Stopping at a corner, she turned her face up and shut her eyes feeling out the spirit world quietly. Small whispers floated, faint memories of smells and feelings, and the sickly feeling of a looming darkness. With a sway, Citlali rotated her steps following the disgusting aura.
She hesitated outside of an alley curiously. This was definitely where the spirit was originating from but there seemed to be something going. With a small shrug, she turned down the alley stopping to watch the pair quietly. Her glassy eyes focused on the ichor already trying to consume and overwhelm the other man’s spirit. She frowned deeply in thought for a moment, not realizing she was just standing there staring into the nothing.