Why it was that the were couldn't seem to settle himself in any one place for long despite having temporarily occupied several towns where it almost felt like he could take up permanent residence wasn't nearly as complicated to understand as he may try and portray it to any that he met along the way. There were a few sound reasons that would explain his preference towards the life of a monad, no true home ever calling to that fiercely beating heart within his chest. Ultimately, in his mind, the only "home" he would ever have that would cause his heart to ache on those days and nights where memories of his past might come in stronger waves than they usually did was wherever it was that his family was. Even he wasn't entirely sure where they were in the world anymore, entirely certain that like himself, they still wandered from town to town and city to city. That was perhaps one of the more obvious downsides to always being on the move. Keeping that connection to the part of his life that meant more to him than anything else was difficult. More difficult than he liked. Writing was impossible, really, considering it required an address. Phone calls were a little easier. While Roman had very few possessions save for some clothes and shoes and photographs, he did carry with him a cheap tracphone that hardly cost him more than a couple dollars for a few hundred minutes. That being said, calls from his siblings or parents were scarse, the family having given up the idea of cell phones to make it that much harder for the hunters to track them, and so whenever any of them were able to make it near a payphone, that phone if Roman's would ring and he'd be able to hear their voices for a least a couple minutes. It was just enough to let him know that they were all doing well and they missed him. He was hardly the type to let the depth of hia emotions show when he could help it, but it was hard when he could hear the sadness in Trinity's voice, telling him that he needed to come home. Roman had never really had an intimate relationship because his lifestyle, but hearing his little sister like that was enough to rip the heart out of his chest. He had never been able to see his baby sister upset. Ever. To see her distraught was rare, but whenever she had been bothered by something, Roman had always been there to wrap the little woman up in his strong arms and hug her until she was smiling again. Now, with an unknown number of miles dividing the were from the most important people in his life, he couldn't do that like he would always find himself wanting to.

In all truthfulness, there wasn't really anything keeping Roman from seeking out his family and reuniting with then once more. It would take some time and some diligent searching, but he would eventually be able to find them and slay the distance that rested between them. It wasn't like he had to stay away to keep them safe or something dramatic. There wasn't a bounty on his head - or at at least no more than there already was for himself and his entire species as it was simply because of what they were - that had driven him away. There wasn't some suspenseful story of strife between himself and his older brother or parents that might have been the reason that he left them. No, it was something much simpler than that. He had wanted to leave. He wanted to see what he could of the world while he was still in his prime. After all, life was short. Even shorter it seemed for a were when it came to simply trying to survive against the almost constant pursuit of dark hunters that almost enjoyed tracking and hunting his kind. That alone was a good enough reason for Roman to find himself wanting to go it alone. This way, his recklessness and affinity for taking chances in hope of feeling the rush of adrenaline wouldn't put his family at risk and he would be able to live however it was he chose. It was a freedom that came with a heavy cost, and in the end it had been the hardest decision he would ever have to make in his life. Did he feel a sense of regret or remorse? Perhaps, although he would easily say that neither were truly a good label for the homesickness that struck him every once in a grand while. This way, he wouldn't have to worry about unnecessary danger finding those he cared for. If he made a mistake, if he ended up getting captured or even killed, then it would only be his fault in the end and his poor decisions wouldn't come back to rest of his family's shoulders. He already knew that he'd sooner perish than give those damn hunters the names of his parents, brothers, or sisters. No amount of torture would ever be enough to force Roman into surrendering that which he would viciously protect against the world. Even if he could go back in time, Roman would still make the same choice to strike out on his own, even if he could look into the future and see his own end. Perhaps it was the african lion in him that sought something to make his own one day. Whatever it was that he felt when it came to reflecting on why he'd left the only home he'd ever known, he didn't regret it. There was no living life without having to accept some degree of consequence, having to pay a price for what it was one desired. For him, it meant leaving his family on the gamble of making his own path in this world, living for every moment he was given.

Letting what little warmth the sun's light held within those pale golden shards that reached through the trees and into the clearing soak into his fur, Roman allowed for that peaceful doze to deepen. His breaths came slow and relaxed, golden-hazel eyes closed contentedly, tuffed tail twitching now and then as he drifted into a dream. Massive paws sank into the sun-bleached grains of a beach, his gaze set upon a bright baby blue sky without a single cloud to taint it. Beneath it, an ocean that stretched far beyond the horizon, foam-crested waves thundering in perked ears as they crashed against the shore in a rhythmic way that could soothe even the most weary of souls, reaching for him only to fall short before withdrawing back into itself. The screeching of albatross overhead as the glided on those invisible currents, the salty zephyrs ruffling through his thick mane as he stood there staring out towards the west, he drinks it all in. And then, there's a voice."Roman!", she calls out. He could never in his lifetime forget the sound of her voice. Turning his large and proud head, he can see Trinity racing towards him. She wasn't alone, though. In the distance, further down the beach, he could see the rest of his family. The twins were chasing after each other in the shallows of the ocean, golden fur slicked and and soaked as they growled playfully at one another, Dea toppling over as her twin brother tackled her. He could see Tristan and their father laying there on the beach watching the twins rough-house in the tide while Nicolette and their mother shared in a session of mutual grooming a short distance from the large males. Everyone was happy and at peace here... He turns to greet Trinity as she slides to a halt in front of him, butting her head affectionately against Roman's, her soft purr-like humming having him instinctively following suit."Come on, let's go show the twins how it's done", she says playfully before stepping away only to swing a paw with claws sheathed at Roman's face. A deep chuckle rumbles from him then as he narrows his eyes playfully in wordless reply before he launches himself forward and chases his little sister through the waves. Their laughter fills the tranquil oceanside as they race over to the rest of their pride, throwing caution to the wind as they revel in each other's presence. Here, there were no hunters to worry about. It was just Roman and his family. If there was ever such a place where they could exist without having to look over their shoulders ever again, what a life they could have there... And yet, Roman knew that the only place such an existence could ever be found was within that realm of dreams, knew better than to waste his time thinking that one day they could all be together again and be in such a state of careless calm and contentment from sunrise and clear until the time the burning star would set.

Suddenly, there was is a disturbance that has his dream shattering and pulls him back into the clearing. Lifting his head and playing upon his power, his sharpened hearing effortlessly picks up the sound of rapid footfalls drumming against the sodden soils of the woodlands surrounding the clearing. Something wasn't right. Pulling himself into a sit, hard muscle flexing and rippling beneath his pelt, he looks in the direction of the sound, the shifting winds carrying to the lion two scents he was familiar with. One was were, but that wasn't the one that seized his utmost attention. He can just make out distant shouting now and he hardly struggles to piece things together. He crouches there on the large boulder, still as the predator in him comes rushing forth. Moments later, keen golden-hazel eyes spot the wolf, the sunlight catching her pelt before she veers off and into the shadows. The shouting grows louder as the two hunters come barreling after the wolf, so caught up in their chase that they miss him altogether. A sharp yelp quickly sounds through the trees, the shouting growing ever louder in that same instance as if to proclaim some sort of twisted victory. A low growl rumbles through Roman as he leaps down from his place on the boulder and moves into the trees, belly almost brushing against the damp earth as he stalks forward, paws placed so precisely that every step is silent out of practiced skill. Bringing himself within eighty yards, he ceases in his forward movements, watching as the hunters break through the undergrowth and are nearly upon the wolf. Had he been human in this moment, his chiseled features would be sporting a near wicked smirk as he set his gaze on the men. Wrong place, wrong time. Effortlessly reaching for his power, the hunters standing over the wolf as they sneered down to her suddenly stumbling a few steps back as Roman steals from them two very important things: Their sight and hearing. It was clear in their bewildered and angered shouts that they were taken offguard, heads turning in every direction as they called out to each other, even bumping into each other as they tried to figure out what the hell had just happened to them. There was nothing like the helplessness that came with being made both blind and deaf. Roman was far from finished, though.

Defined and hardened muscle flex beneath golden fur before he launches himself forward in a spectacular display predatory intent as the beast within overtakes him, powerful haunches and shoulders working in perfect unison as he charges the hunters, jaws parted to reveal those long and lethal teeth as that menacing growl rumbles in his throat. He is upon them in mere seconds, hitting the first with all five-hundred and fifty pounds of pure power as he lunges, taking the man down like the prey that the hunter was in the eyes of the lion. The hunter calls out for his partner from beneath Roman as the lion has him pinned, claws unsheathed as they shoe no mercy for the man's skin as the blood begins to flow. His cries are cut short though when suddenly those bared teeth lash out and rip into the man's throat, his screams of pain replaced by choking sounds as his jugular vein is severed and the crimson source of life fills his lungs. Roman doesn't wait for the fallen hunter to become still, quickly turning his attention to the other now with a hunting knife clutched in one hand as he is still stumbling around, calling out to his comrade whose fate was now sealed as he gurgled and grasps on the ground. Roman circles the hunter, easily dodging the desperate slashing swings before he lashes out at the man's leg with exposed claws. The hunter falls on his back with the force of that one simple motion, gasping as the wind is knocked from his lungs and pain rips through his now bloodied leg. Before the man can begin to swing the knife blindly once again, Roman is crouched over him and deals the same drift and deadly blow, teeth tearing into the hunter's neck and windpipe like scissors to paper, hardly caring about the blood that drenched his maw and mane as the man struggles for only a moment before those death spasms are the only reason his body moves beneath the lion. Only then does the fierce and natural killer instinct in Roman subside and he turns to look at the wolf with forelegs still bound."Are you alright?", He growls lowly to her as he moves over to where she lay, the expression in his gaze soft and without a trace of the animal that had mercilessly mauled her pursuers."Here, let me help you", he ushers in deep baritones, crouching there beside her. Carefully, he takes takes the leather cords between his back inscisors and begins to chew through the material, taking only moments before they snap and the she-wolf is freed. He rises to a sitting position then, studying her peculiar pelt for a moment as he waits patiently for her to decide if she would flee or not. Trust among weres was often a fragile if not unpredictable thing, and after the way he'd dispatched her assailants, he wouldn't be surprised if she didn't want to stick around.