Uncommon though it was for him to be up before dawn's first light, such a feat was hardly what many might say seemed impossible for Roman. Yes, the were did very much enjoy his sleep, perhaps more than some but that could easily be blamed upon the beast within him that so craved those peaceful afternoons in his little clearing he'd more or less claimed for his own in the short amount of time that had passed since he first appeared just within the city's limits, but the other half of him knee that rising early had its own set of benefits. In yesterday's case, it had been the promise of pay which he would hardly turn down given the fact that he had yet to find any sort of a table part-time job that had called him out of his slumber and warm sheets and into motion. He was accustomed to various types of labor, from the lighter tasks like preening shrubs to repairing damaged walls and everything in-between. As they might say, he was a jack of many trades. He was content with doing little odd jobs for strangers he met along his journey, wherever it was that his path would carry him, and it seemed that Sacrosanct had much to offer Roman in the way of opportunities to keep his work leather trifold from emptying. Perhaps that has been what originally called to the vagabond when golden-hazel eyes first found the towering skyscrapers and bright city lights on the horizon as the sun was only just beginning to set; the chance to harvest what he could for money as the fruits of nothing but good, honest hard work. One might think that the were would consider trying for much more consistent and steady work, something that he would be able to rely on without having to wonder what his next job might require of him, but that was not something that he wanted right now. If he were to try and take on an actual part-time job as a more permanent hire, then that would mean that he was beginning to settle. In the time that he had been on his own, wandering across the world from the day that he left his family, Roman had never sought or kept a true job, and he has been able to make it this far so why should he change things? It was hardly that he did not like change or wanted to put it off for as long as he could. After all, his entire life had nearly been nothing but watching things change around him as his family moved from place to place so that they were always several steps ahead of those dark hunters eager to cut them down should The Lionel Family - or pride as they had often been referred to by the locals that came to know them - ever faulter or misstep. That was all it would take for them to welcome danger into their lives, and so it had always been within caution that they would offer what they could to any of the locals in need. Being a were, being borne a creature considered unholy and widely feared for the savagery that all the folklore and the myths marked them for only made things that much more treacherous for them and the people around them, the places they stayed.
So, it went without needing to be said that change was not what kept Roman from seeking a more permanent employment here within the city. Rather, it was a combination of never having needed such a thing before to not only survive but thrive in this life of a nomad that had him moving from one town or city and on to the next as well as the very word that held no place in his world - at least, not yet - save for one. That word was permanence. Nothing in his life, even from the earliest days that he could manage to remember from his early childhood, had ever been permanent or steady except for his family. His mother and father, brothers and sisters... their love for him and his love for them, the loyalty and devotion that only strengthened them as both individual souls and an entire family, this had been the one and only thing that had been an unfaultering presence in his world. Everything else, the places they stayed and the faces they came to know as friends, the jobs they all worked, it had all been temporary if not even fleeting before they decided it was time to move on and say farewell to those that might have managed to befriend them. Roman and his family, they were kind beings always willing to help others in need, but they did not build relationships just like they did not lay day roots within the walls they made into their temporary home until time called them away as it always would. Any friendship that they made was with caution and warning that it would not last for long and a time would come where they would not be there for those who would come to seek their companionship. They would try and keep in touch with perhaps a very, very select few from past places they'd lived, but even then letters or phone calls were few and far between. It was best that way, though. The last thing any of his family would ever want would be for someone they once called their friend to find trouble from the dark hunters ravenous for even the faintest trail left behind by Roman and his family. There was always that chance that one's life was put at risk to some degree simply for knowing them. It was but one of the reasons that he did his best to keep others at arm's length from him, never wanting to lead another on that he might be there should they ever need him because it was something that he simply could not promise. Sometimes, he would linger in the same place for months and months, but then there were those other times where he would stay for only days before vanishing like a phantom, leaving behind next to nothing that might suggest he has truly been there from the beginning. There was no telling when he would move on, when it was that the calling would find Roman and lead him towards that far off horizon and wherever it was that it would take him, and so it was the best thing for those he did come across and make an aquaintance in that neither party come to allow anything between them to grow into something more. This way, no one would end up getting hurt in the end.
Another day finds him in the form of yet another sunrise, and yet this one was different from the last few that had come before it. Today, there was no sign of those dark and dreary clouds heavy with rain that threatened to fall any moment. Rather, it was clear and bright and beautiful, the very first whispers of spring ever so faintly touching the early morning. The clearing was still clad in that delicate glass of mother nature, kissed gently by the chill of late winter and yet as the sun rose ever higher, it would slowly begin to melt as diamond droplets glittered and sparkled like innumerable diamonds scattered carelessly across the emerald carpet. The first light and airy songs of winter birds filled the ancient boughs that reached for the heavens as that offered their bright voices in salutations to the morning sun that brought forth a brand-new day, golden sharps breaking through them and casting the slightest of warmth down onto this tranquil little world that seemed so very far away from the disturbances and harsh sounds of city life. It was here that he once again found himself drawn to as he so often was. Here, he was free to exist as the creature he was, and yet there was hardly a savage gleam to those halfway closed golden-hazel eyes that eagerly drank in the beauty of the late winter morning. Why it was that he had awoken before his normal time not even Roman truly knew, and yet he would guess that something in that more primal part of him that had pulled him from those sheets and back into the heart of the clearing that was essentially his second temporary home. The large african lion lay there on his side contendedly upon that large boulder the sun always seemed to touch, gently warming the stone surface as the burning star in the sky rose ever higher. He stretches, groaning in wordless pleasure at the sensation of powerful muscle flexing and extending beneath his golden fur. Large forepaws knead momentarily at the air like the giant housecat that he appeared to be, basking in the glorious morning sun and relishing in the warmth that caresses all five-hundred and fifty-pounds of him, tuffed tail twitching idly every few moments or so as he lounged upon his perch, the epitome of calm existence as his side rose and fell softly. A single ear flicks within his thick golden mane that nearly engulfs it, a soft rustling catching his attention for only a second. Calling on his gift, his own sense of hearing intensifies to where he can hear every minute scurry of a field mouse through the tall, wild grasses and the softest fluttering of feathered wings as a sparrow ruffles its soft plumage while he sits there upon his perch somewhere in the trees nearby. Sensing nothing that might reveal an impending threat this peaceful morning, he returns his hearing to its usual sensitivity, allowing golden-hazel eyes to close fully as he drifts off into a quiet doze, that soft purr-like rumbling of pure bliss the only sound to gently fill the tranquility that entangled this clearing on what could almost be regarded by Roman as a perfect morning.