[Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work

It is a somewhat comic sight: the leopard with a bouquet of flowers in its mouth, fierce and feral yet brought to heel as she slinks and springs toward the shrine. Ever a place of solace from madness, the Glade is no exception today, and the feline who bounds through the sunlit trees is a far cry from the shaded, shadowed girl. Lavender, lilac, lilies all are clutched between her ivory teeth, leaving a spray of petals and scent as she makes her way toward nature's shrine. She pauses. There is a scent in the air, at once familiar and yet stronger, more, invigorating and entrancing to her new wild senses. Amalia lowers her body to the ground, her tail raised like a flag, flowers still grasped comically in her mouth as a steady purr rises from the bowels of her breast. A twitch, a step- and then she leaps, cream-and-black body flying like a bullet into the space where her quarry stands. As much of a grin as she can muster is plastered on her face: she doesn't realize that they don't know her, only knows that she knows them, and she wants nothing more than to be with them now, to wrap herself around Isuma - My sister! - and chase the fluff of Jigano's tail. She is a wild thing, and they are her herd, her family, her cloud. a m a l i a You were young and you'd stare With a reverence unimpaired Searching in your dark eyes to find the stars already there