He was just a homeless man. No one would miss him. There was no one to notice if one day he might not be sitting beside his usual dumpster. Why, then, did she feel so guilty? He didn't have children, or a wife to come home to. His only friends were the rats that also loitered in the alleyways. But he was still a human, with feelings, and dreams. Hopes and aspirations. And a soul. His soul was what Ahri needed, what Ahri craved. And, as always, the craving won over the guilt. She stepped from behind a building, quiet as a shadow. The vagrant didn't notice her at first, only startling out of sleep when she was almost upon him. There was no time for him to call out, to shove her away, to do anything but stare, entranced, into two glaring yellow orbs. The moon hung heavy among the stars, illuminating what might have been a lover's embrace. She took from him every memory, every emotion he ever felt. She knew his first kiss, his first broken bone, every "I love you" and every "Goodbye." She took it all, and left him a husk of a man. A gift for the rats. Her tail dragged in the grime of the city as she walked, then ran, to the forest. Even as his soul invigorated her, she felt filthy. The worst part was knowing that she would do it again. She fled under the canopy of trees, feeling suddenly unworthy of the moon's glow.