For a city preparing to be besieged, it didn't feel like one. At least, not on the surface. The streets bustled with life, filled with lionkin going about their day. Market stalls lined the roads, their vendors calling out to passing customers. Children ran about happily, playing some sort of pretend war game, with some being mighty lionkin warriors while the others pretended to be enemies.
All in all, it seemed to be a normal city.
At a glance, Emberfang could have been mistaken for any other beastkin settlement.
But after a few minutes of walking about, scouting the town, Kitsara reached the location of the 'ranches.'
The scent hit us first. Blood. Sweat. Filth.
