To say that the man was anxious would be a rather gross understatement, and yet it had been with faith that he'd allowed for the fae child to venture to the west side of the city. While he was not entirely sure if she'd truly used her gift of persuasion to sway the man's unsettled thoughts of the girl alone in what could easily be considered the most dangerous part of the city, her argument had been... sound. At least, to an extent. He remembers how they'd walked past the abandoned dance studio resting just inside the district infamous for shady activities and even shadier individuals, the way that amethyst had practically sparkled when she noticed the filthy and even broken glass of the mirrors as they passed the doorway. In truth, he had been hesitant to explore that part of the city with her at all, even though it was hardly from any sort of doubt in his ability to protect her should a threat arise. Yes, the precious spirit was not his own child, and yet that didn't matter to the lion. She may not be his by blood ties, the girl with delicately pointed ears clearly of the rarer supernatural race to occupy this part of the world so alive and teeming with magic, but what difference would such a thing truly make? It was apparent in the fact that she was alone here, that she'd run from her foster homes, that Maeve was alone in this world, and it was in knowing to some slight degree how such a thing could feel that had driven the man into falling for her and the innocence that so shines through every smile and childish thing the girl does. For all the pictures and portraits made in crayon, for her love of the superman doll he'd managed to win her from one of the claw machines just outside the one of the supermarkets where he'd taken her with him to buy groceries for dinner and snacks that she could keep in the hotel room, for each and every delighted and bright expression that flickered across her face, it was impossible for the lion not to love the fae child. He has always loved children, sought to watch over them as they played in the local park should their parents seem too distracted, so such worry came only natural to him. Had his little sister asked for such a thing when they were growing up, Roman would have easily said that she could only go if he accompanied her. But, Maeve was not Trinity.

He wanders down the streets of Sacrosanct, having struggled to remain focused on the odd job that the sweet old woman Mrs. Hahn had offered him. Ever since that afternoon nearly a month ago when the man had helped her with those groceries, she'd seemed to take a liking to having him help her keep that large yard well maintained, always seeming to find things either inside or outside the home that needed repairing. She lived alone, her husband having passed away years ago, and it was always with a warm readiness that Roman would agree to help her as best as he could, sometimes with pay and other times without. And oh, how she would always fuss when he insisted that the sandwich she'd prepared for him was enough. They'd even worked out a proposition that he would stop by her humble, quaint home on the southern side of the city every Tuesday to help her with anything that she might request of him. He'd wanted to take Maeve, knowing entirely well that Mrs. Hahn â€" who was now at the point of insisting Roman call her Macie â€" would have surely doted upon the fae child in that grandmotherly adoration that the lion himself had never had the chance to know. But, the timing never seemed to be right, Roman taking on a few odd jobs in one day if he were capable, and it always seemed that Tuesdays were busy for him â€" as well as the most stressful. He could not afford anyone to watch the girl while he was working to ensure that she had everything she would need â€" the lion still struggling with their living circumstances and yet remaining silent for the time being â€" and he hardly knew Raven well enough to ask the she-wolf for such a favor. And so, he'd taken to leaving her at the park so that Maeve had companions to laugh and play with, a place where there were other parents who would surely not let some stranger make off with one of the children, even if not all of them there were theirs. But today, Maeve had asked the lion for something he hadn't expected. She'd done well to try and assure him that she would not be entirely alone, that the abandoned destination of choice was in fact close to a place she'd referred to as The Arc, going on to add that her friends Tobi and Tetra were nearby and that she would be safe, but he questioned exactly how close "nearby" was.

While Roman had taken care not to falter in his precision with tending to Mrs. Hahn's yard as he always did, the were would be lying to himself and the world if he said that he hadn't been worried the entire time. The girl had told him the night before just when it was that she would be going to this dance studio, and the lion had been determined to finish with his tasks before then or shortly after. Yes, he had allowed for her to go alone, but he simply couldn't convince himself to let her be alone. Even if it meant staying out of sight, there was nothing that he could do to convince himself to stay away. There was already enough regret in the man's heart that he would have to live with for the rest of his days, he couldn't stand to think that something might just happen to Maeve the one time he did not go with her. Perhaps, if it had been the park again, or maybe some place in a better part of Sacrosant, he might not have been so anxious. But the west? It was a battle that he'd lost, and he knows well that he is far from perfect, that he wouldn't win every battle. Obviously, this was true, considering he'd allowed for his uncertainties to be dissuaded by a fae child, but it had been only out of love that he makes his way deeper into the west, those keen senses of his guiding him easily through the streets as well as his memory serving perfectly well to lead him down the same exact street's they'd walked together before. It took all that he had not to feel guilty, both for having allowed her to wander this far alone in the first place as well as seeking her out. He hadn't lied, promised the girl that he never would. But... he had to see that she was okay. He couldn't wait on the steps of that hotel for platinum blonde locks and violet eyes to greet him. What if she was hurt? What if she was taken? Well, then gods have mercy on the foolish creature that would dare such a thing. While the man was far from cruel or wicked, typically slow to anger and even slower to use his own affinity of even the beast pacing restlessly beneath the surface of those golden-hazel eyes, it would only take milliseconds for him to end whatever would tempt the thought of harming Maeve. They would be no better off than the dark hunters that had bene after Raven the day the lion first encountered the she-wolf.

Her scent intensifies as he draws closer to the abandoned dance studio, and he is quick to turn into one of the abandoned emergency exits on the side of the building that no longer locked. He is careful to tread silently, moving through the shadows and only now pulling his affinity to the surface, increasing his own sense of sight so that he could better make his way through the pitch black that soon swallows him. He is unsure if he was in a changing room, the scents of water catching against his senses and yet those sharpened eyes can see the shapes of what appear to be bathroom stalls, the water stagnant and unpleasant, though bearable all the same. Ever-sensitive ears can hear the soft sounds of another stirring, the steps so very light, and even through the dust and rust of the hallway he walks through, the lion knows that it is Maeve. She was safe. He nearly breathes a sigh of relief as he makes his way around a corner, the hall opening into the room with all those mirrors. He sees her dancing then, and he cannot help the affectionate smile that finds his features then, golden-hazel eyes softening. Even for a fae, her movements were close to that of someone far older. He is content to watch her for only a moment more before shifting into the shadows, leaning against the wall of the hallway. He intended to leave, to sit outside the building and wait for her to emerge and perhaps be surprised that he was there with that familiar and warm smile as he walked the girl back to her hotel room. But, it was the scent of another nearly missed beneath the heavy musk and stagnant air of practically making his own that has him lingering there in the hallway, her voice soft and familiar to the lion. Nadya. He remembers her, though it had been a considerable amount of time since they'd first met. It is when she asks if Maeve had someone nearby that Roman decides to appear in the entryway opposite of the woman, golden-hazel eyes noting the bags she carried with her only briefly."Hello, Nadya. It is good to see you again", he says first to the were, offering her a kind and friendly smile before it shifts into something soft, tender as his gaze falls over the fae child."That was very good, Maeve", he says softly, readily agreeing with Nadya's remark on the girl's dancing. He remembers well how the child spoke of her passion, her dream to become a ballerina one day, and he remembers silently promising to do whatever he could to help her get there, to reach those stars and grab them. She may not be his in the sense that he was her father, but however the fae girl saw him, Roman would move heaven and earth to be there for her so long as she would have him.