Sacrosanct had been different. From the moment that he'd appeared upon the crest of ridge just beyond the furthest reached of the city, when first those golden-hazel eyed had rested upon the city, there had been a sensation stirred to life within the were by the likes of none which he'd felt previously. Many towns, cities, and villages had served as a temporary home for the vagabond male as he wandered almost aimlessly across the countryside and over seemingly endless stretches of highway. Yet, of all the places he had been before, it was this city that felt different from the rest. Even from the distance, those tall skyscrapers only illuminated specks as the dying light of the sunset colored the skyline a brilliant display of gold and amber. He'd stood there for a time, watched as the city began to glow, its lights beginning to flicker on like the first stars of the evening, and soon it was as though a piece of the night sky had fallen from the heavens. He had contemplated that sensation which seemed to pull at something within him, as if there was some sort of magic that somehow managed to reach across the distance and touch the lion that laid there contentedly behind the man's eyes, called to a deeper part of Roman when every other place he'd come to had just been a welcomed sight of relief when his tattered leather tri-fold wallet was emptied of any monetary resources, his stomach craving a nice, warm, and cooked meal. They'd been nothing beyond harbors within which the were would take shelter anywhere from a couple weeks to a couple months at most before he would throw that single backpack of one broad shoulder and disappear like a phantom who hadn't really been there at all. And yet... there had been something about the city he watched from the ridge that seemed to draw him in, calling to the curiosity of the beast. He could have continued onward in his journey without a destination, moving on to the next town that day, but he hadn't. Little did he know what it was that would come to find him there within those busy streets, how it was that this decision he'd made would cause his future to shift in a way he never would have foreseen.

Just as the other places he'd roamed through, the lion expected this cluster of building crafted from cold steel, glass, and concrete to become just another spot on the map he would be able to look back on and say he'd been to. He'd hardly expected that his stay here would be sent shorter or longer than the others, certain that he would be able to keep that distance between himself and the residents here who walked the streets, so set in their daily routines that any stranger could cross those city limits and go undetected for weeks to come, if not going unseen for even longer. The were, while largely preferring wide-open grassland and desolate wilderness in comparison to a crowded city with air foiled by asphalt and emissions from the countless vehicles that blared their horns in agitation at the sluggish movements by those the shared the road with, has always been able to see the benefits of slipping into such a dense and diverse population, able to appreciate how it would make it that much harder for a creature like him to stand out at all in an ever-churning sea of strangers. It was something that he had adapted to become accustomed to, hardly flinching as others would bump into his large and well-built frame on the sidewalk, so many with their faced buried into the screen of their phone as they hurried to their place of employment or perhaps ran their typical errands for the afternoon. It was this sense of sheer day to day routine, each one hardly any different from the one before it, that the were had difficulty understanding. Of the few faces that golden-hazel eyes would take a fleeting moment to study, none of them had seemed genuinely happy. They had been blank, unmoving faces as their gazes were transfixed on wherever it was that would be their destination. It puzzles him still, how one could be so complacent and live their each and every moment almost exactly the same as the rest. It was as though here, in this big city, the desire to live, to stop and take even just a minute out of that mundane ritual to do something spontaneous and different if only to add the smallest splash of color against what had become a greyscale painting, was nearly nonexistent.

Roman hadn't led the most exciting and wild of lifestyles either, but at the very least, his every day had been varied - even if only in the slightest of ways. With his pride, there had never been a dull moment, despite their intent to keep a low profile for the sake of remaining hidden and several figurative and long strides ahead of the dark hunters who always seemed to be trailing behind them. The Lionel brothers had been like most, often sparring and wrestling with one another and yet they'd been terribly close. They had been young males full of vigor and unexplored potential, the beast in them craving the rush of adrenaline as they would sharpen their senses and test their own limits with one another. It had been that outlet which so often took the edge off the recklessness that raged within Roman, the lion seeming to never truly settle into the same easy content that Tristian and Drake often could when they'd exhausted their beast and settled beside the Lionel females who were always more inclined to share in long sessions of grooming and laying in whatever sun they could find. It was always Roman who was the last to tire, often venturing off when he could just to satisfy the fierce predator that he was. He would race the storms, challenge the thunder as it shook the sky, revel in the rain as it soaked into his tawny fur and thick mane. He would hunt tirelessly on those days where the lion in him seemed the most restless and anxious, craving release and the rush which would call his heart to beat wildly within his powerful chest like the thunder that always seemed to awaken him. It was this exact restlessness and wild tendency that had begun to worry him as the years went on and he grew wiser for the time that passed. He had thought that as he grew older, the lion would lose those urges the man would struggle to settle when they built up within his strong and well-defined frame. Tristian had lost that recklessness, and even Drake had quelled his beast, though the youngest of the brothers had always been more relaxed to begin with.

It was this restlessness that had him questioning if there would ever come a day where he might put his pride at risk, knowing that those damned hunters were waiting for any one of them to take even just a single misstep. The were would never be able to forgive himself it he endangered those he loved most in this world, and yet it had become apparent over the years that there was something within himself that the man couldn't always promise he could keep stilled. It had been the hardest decisions on for him to leave his family behind, but he was certain that they were safer without him there. This way, living on his own, the only one he was risking was himself. And so, he wandered across the world, finding that it offered him some kind of solace, helped him soothe the beast that stalked the shadows of his golden-hazel eyes. Then, he found Sacrosanct. What he had thought would only be another short chapter in his story was proving to be more than what he had expected, having found a fondness for a woman who reminded him so much of his sister, Dea. She had a warmth and a kindness within her that had pulled at those carefully guarded heartstrings of the were, and it was this unexpected fondness toward the she-wolf that has him hesitating in what had always been his naturally nomadic ways. He would have left Sacrosanct weeks ago if not for Raven... and still he calls that cheap hotel room on the east side of the city his temporary home. For the first time, he wonders if perhaps he should seek out a source of income that would prove to be more steady for him rather than seeking those odd jobs that have always been more than enough for the man to get by until he packed up what little he owned and moved on. Still he is unsure, but if there was one thing the were knew he could always expect to happen, it was for things in his melancholy world to change. It was inevitable, and he had always been capable of adapting when it did, even when he never would have thought to consider the possibility of setting down roots at all.

These are the thoughts that flicker against the darkness of his mind as the lion lounges there in the sun, that low humming sound of contentment rumbling in his throat as black-tipped ears flicker, listening for any sort of disturbance in the clearing around him. There is pause in the birding which had only moments ago filled the summer afternoon, and it was this break in their symphony that calls golden-hazel eyes to slowly blink open. It was always the feathered musicians who were the first to notice danger, and so he shifts, lifting his massive head to search the shadows. He tests the soft breeze... and nothing. Pulling one foreleg beneath him, he lays there in silence, but he is hardly left in this state for long. Suddenly, there is a force that crashes into the lion, a low grunt ushered from him with the force of the collision. All he sees at first is obsidian fur as he is toppled forward and over the rock he had been sunning himself on seconds ago. He allows for his massive frame to roll with the momentum, the predator surging forth as he twists his back, using his tail to upright himself with all the feline flexibility his kind is capable of. His landing is nowhere near graceful, and yet he is able to land on his own feet as well, the impact of paws hitting the soft grass beneath him jarring thick muscle and causing it to ripple beneath his golden fur. In a rush of pure instinct and adrenaline, a low and rumbling growl erupts from the lion as he prepares to defend himself, jaws parted as lips pull back to reveal his lethal weaponry he would not hesitate to use. Narrowed golden-hazel eyes see his attacker, and as they meet her glowing amethyst gaze bright with mischeif rather than aggression, Roman's own powerful frame settles and the relfexive hostility dissipates. If she had wanted to do harm, she would have already done so.

He studies the black tigress for a moment, watching as she yawns in a display of her own teeth."That's one way to say hello", he rumbles to her, shifting so that he is standing square with her, unsure of what her intentions here were. He gives his mane a shake, tail flicking behind him and shoulders flexing as he maintains his attentiveness, golden-hazel eyes settled firmly upon the female. Should she launch herself at him again, he would be ready this time.

Roman royce

EVERY SECOND COUNTS BECAUSE THERE'S NO SECOND TRY