It was another early morning for the were as he fulfills the promise he'd made only just last week, hardly a creature to go back on his word when it was given to another. The elderly woman that had hired him for yardwork hadn't asked for him to paint the old wooden picket fences, and what had certainly surprised him was the payment that she'd insisted he take. It was significantly more that the man had expected to earn for simply mowing her lawn and trimming a few hedges, having been paid much less before for the same amount of work. In truth, he'd felt that she paid him too much, and while he had already intended on offering Mrs. Hahn to give her fencing a fresh and a much needed coat of paint, he had been ever more hopeful that she would be willing to let him do this favor for her without any pay. This way, he would be able to walk away feeling as though he'd done something with the extra cash she had paid him with. Some might have been content - if not smug - to walk away and not look back had they been in the same situation as Roman, but that was far from how he was raised just as it was nearly impossible for the were to feel as though he deserved that extra money. He'd promised her that he would be there the same time, bright and early, only just shortly after the sun rose above the skyscrapers and what little of the distant mountains golden-hazel eyes could see past the structures or cold steel, glass, and concrete. And so, despite the groan that is pulled from the lion as the almost blaring and repetitive beeping of his digital clock alarm summons him from that warm and deep slumber at the same early morning hour, there is no regret or agitation that flickers across his awakening mind. Of course, he would much rather have stayed there tucked into those cheap yet sufficient covers of the hotel room serving as his temporary residence, left to sleep into the later hours of the morning when the sun was nearing its highest place in the summer sky, the were thoroughly enjoying those hours of rest as perhaps the feline in his blood so desired. However, he intended to make good of his word, paying a debt that he truly did not owe and yet he felt compelled to carry out. Perhaps to some degree, it was a matter of pride for him, but for the majority of things, it simply felt like the right thing to do for the lonesome window that had seen fit to offer him work that would help the man make ends meet.

Giving a large yawn, the were forces himself up and into a sitting position at the edge of that old and creaky mattress, those sheets falling from his bare torso, the weak early morning sunlight filtering through cheap white linen curtains draped over the only window in the room, dappling the chiseled and well-defined muscle of his back and shoulders as he stretches those strong arms out and over his head. He runs his hands through brunette locks in disarray from pillow before finally he pushes himself to a stand and pads drowsily across the room and into the small bathroom just large enough to fit a sink, toilet, and cramped shower stall. Opening the plexiglass door, he reaches in and turns on the water, letting it run for a few moments until it was a pleasant temperature somewhere between lukewarm and slightly chilled. The were expected yet another warm summer day, and he wanted to give himself the pleasure of a relatively cool shower. Slipping from those black sweat pants and boxers, the man climbs into the stream with a contented sigh as he feels his concious mind moving further from the embrace of last night and the sound slumber he'd been happy to obtain. There were some nights that he was not always able to sleep so well, his dreams often riddled with memories of his family and all that they'd endured together, even going as far as to taunt him with illusions of what could have been he the lion stayed with his pride. There had been only the comforts of darkness, no dreams to recall or reflect on as the water runs over his broad and well-built frame. Again, he knows that he will likely only end up drenched in sweat from the warmth of the burning star that would beat down mercilessly upon his sun-kissed skin, but it was a luxury that the man took advantage of. There was nothing like a cool shower to ready himself for the day ahead, only knowing what the first part of this Tuesday would hold for him. After his morning task that would surely take him hours, there was nothing he had planned for himself. Once he feels the last remnants of sleepiness slip away from him, the were turns off the water and retrieves the towel draped over the door to begin drying himself off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he leaves the bathroom and enters into the main room, moving towards the backpack that held what little the lion truly called his own. Pulling from the depths of the worn bag a black tank top, khaki cargo shorts, and boxers, he wastes no time getting dressed and running that comb through his hair to tame it. Satisfied with his relatively normal appearance, knowing that to the naked eye he would look just as human as the mortal population of the city, he slips his feet into the only pair or black sandles that he owns. Walking over to the small table beside the window, he retrieves his wallet and room key, placing them both securely into his pocket before departing from the hotel room and locking the door behind him before falling into the crowd and making his way towards the southern district.

Arriving only minutes before seven o'clock at 486 Valencia Way, he allows himself through the aged front gate, careful to open it when he notices just how corroded the hinges were becoming. It wasn't something that surprised him too much, but all the same he wonders if perhaps Mrs. Hahn would let him reinforce the fence that marked the outermost perimeters of her property. Pushing the thought aside for now, he makes his way along the stone path and no the stairs to the front porch. Knocking gently on the door, he waits patiently for the old woman, though she doesn't leave him there lock before his keen hearing catches the sound of someone making their way to the door. The handle clicks and when the door opens, he is greeted by the same warm smile he'd happened upon by pure chance at the market."Well, hello again Mr. Royce. I had almost forgotten that you would be coming by today", she says kindly in a rasped voice marked by her age. The were gives her a warm grin in return, his gaze dropping only briefly to the buckets of paint she'd surely had a friend or relative fetch for her, golden hazel gaze settling back upon those vibrant earthen hues of the woman."Good morning, Mrs. Hahn. I'm ready to set to work painting that fence for you", he replies kindly then, dipping his head respectfully to her as he'd always been taught by his father. Yes, it seemed perhaps a bit old-fashioned, but that was how the lion was; ever respectful of his elders and well-versed in formal greetings."Very good. It's certainly been a few years since it's been given a new coat. The brush and pan are their next to the pales. Best hop to it before the weather gets too warm, dearie", she says then with gentle humor touching her words, pointing to the supplies there next to the buckets of paint."Yes, ma'am", he replies with warm smile before moving to gather the materials and carry them to the far end where the fender began. He slips the black tank top over his head and shoulders, tucking the fabric into his back pocket where it would be safe from paint splatter, and then cracks open the first bucket and sets to work. He is precise in those slow and purposeful strokes, enduring that a spot was not missed and the layers to each board even as he follows the grain of the aged wood. It is a repetitive task, one that requires little from the lion aside from focus and patience, demanding minimal energy from him which he is thankful for as time wears on and the temperature begins to climb, the sun reigning down warm golden and bright light upon the city below. Yet, even when it takes little from him, still there is a gleam to his sculpted muscle as sweat begins to soak his skin. When finally he finishes that last board, he slips a strong hand into his pocket and pulls from it his phone, clicking the button on the left side or the device to illuminate the screen and noting the time now and eleven thirty-seven. Not too bad, he thinks to himself then as he collects the one empty pale and near empty pale, placing the dirty brush into the coated pan and carrying the supplies back to the front porch. Setting the bucket there where they'd been before, he takes the brush and pan to where he knew the hose was coiled, turning the faucet and cleaning the tools as best as he could.

When he climbs those three steps up to the porch, the door opens once more and the old woman casts her gaze over to the fence, giving a satisfied nod before looking back to Roman."Another job well done. Thank you very much, Mr. Royce. If you ever need more work, please don't hesitate in stopping by I'm sure I can find something else that might need your attention", she says brightly, having the were offer another warm smile to the small woman."It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Hahn. Have a good day", he replies kindly, dipping his head once more before turning and exiting through the gate, latching it closed behind him. He regards his work once more, satisfaction finding him in that moment before he slips the black tank top back over his torso. He meandered the way he'd come now, contemplating what it was he would do for the rest of his day. He remembers suddenly the small clearing that he had not been to in a few days, and almost immediately he decides that it would be a great afternoon to allow for the beast in him to stretch powerful paws. He moved through the calm neighborhood streets, enjoying the quiet disposition of the southern side of the city and the comforts that can be found in the lack of constant honking or agitated drivers and sirens of emergency vehicles. Here, he could truly feel himself relax, and the lion behind golden-hazel eyes beginning to stir restlessly. While he had exceptional control of the beast, it grew more challenging as the days would pass that he denied it the chance to surge forth freely. Little time passes before he sees the familiar expanse of green hills ahead, the faint laughter and delighted squeals of children as they ran and played reaching him even from this distance. He soon reaches the park, walking at a leisurely pace along the familiar path that leads him past the playground and further into the recreational area. He scans the area briefly when he spots the familiar fork in the trail, the left shifting from pavement to dirt that would take him deep into the trees while the right would simply take those wandering it towards the track where joggers and runners often frequented. When he sees that there is no one around, he slips into the shadows and follows the trail as it becomes more narrow and overgrown, soon forcing him to push through the undergrowth. The were soon comes upon the familiar wired fence that separates the park from the dense forest that marks the outskirts. He travels along the fence until he can find the tear in the metal, ducking through it and making his way towards the hollowed oak where he would hide his clothes...

Minutes pass, and suddenly there is rustling that silences the wildlife. It is only for a moment, the small feathered choir in the canopy ceasing in their pitched symphony as even the squirrels dare not chatter as they scurry through the underbrush and up the bark of the towering trees. It is from the shadows that the lion emerges, massive paws silent as thick muscle ripples beneath tawny golden fur. He pauses, a contented hum rumbling like distant thunder deep within his powerful chest jaws parted only slightly to allow a glimpse of fierce fangs hidden there. The beast shakes himself then, large and thick mane rustling around him as he feels his power surging within every drumming beat of his heart. Golden-hazel eyes blink slowly, lazily upon the wilderness stretching out before him, and he strides forward, his breaths steady and massive head low as shoulder roll and tufted tail flicks idly from side to side. He is a massive animal, the largest of his kind weighing in at an intimidating five-hundred and fifty pounds of raw power and predatory fury, though it is evident in his meandering pace and the occasional twitch or black-tipped ears almost entirely consumed by thick gold and dark locks that hunting was the last thing on the lion's mind. Still, there is purpose in his gaze as he moves through the dense forest, a destination certainly possessing his mind. Not long does he wander though, the dense forest soon opening into a small clearing surrounded by ancient evergreens that reach for the clear summer sky that can now be seen above. His eyes soon find the very thing he has been searching for, the familiar mound of large boulders and rock a welcomed sight that takes him back to those earliest days within Sacrosanct. There is a fondness, a primal possessiveness towards these rocks perfect for sunning that stirs a low growl of pleasure from the lion as he moves from the shadows and shelter of the forest, stepping into the clearing and padding across the tall, wild grasses. The muscle within powerful haunches flex and release, having the beast leaping with great ease onto the boulders here, padding across the warmed surface until he finds the flattest of stones. Huffing with satisfaction, Roman lowers himself onto the rock, reclining onto his left side with paws outstretched as he runs his face and mane against the rock to cover it in his scent, lethal claws kneading at the rough surface in the most unthreatening of ways as the lion finds himself dozing contentedly, that idle rumble in his throat as golden-hazel eyes close to the world. Despite the pure relaxation of his massive frame, still those ears will twitch within his mane ruffled by a passing summer breeze as they both revel in the sounds of nature undisturbed around him and take care to listen for unexpected company.

He drifts just between conciousness and unconsciousness, surrendering himself partially to the lulls of the summer sun and peace that envelopes the clearing though he knows better than to fall too deeply. After all, he was almost entirely certain he was not the only one that would be seeking sanctuary in the forest on this warm afternoon.

Roman royce

EVERY SECOND COUNTS BECAUSE THERE'S NO SECOND TRY