09-20-2019, 04:16 PM
[align=center][div style="bgcolor= black; width: 500px; font-family: georgia;font-size:12px;text-align:justify"]Roman knew of their leader, the infamous vulpine that had been burned by the leader of Tanglewood. Roman hadn't been there when it had happened, but gossip traveled fast, so it was obvious who the male was the second the feline caught a glimpse of the other. Roman hadn't expected the other to speak to him, however, on account of the fire - something Roman was more than used to, but if Jervis had been made of water, Roman would have made sure to steer clear due to past traumas there - and he could only give props to the other as he pricked his ears, stopping in his tracks and head shifting over to look towards the other, listening to the words that were spoken.
Was he lost? Not exactly but there would be no use in telling Jervis of why, exactly, he was staring at the ground so intensely as he walked. "Not lost, no. I know I'm in the Pitt and that I'm currently in the camp." Was he afraid of potentially tripping over something or someone? Yes. Was he lost? No. Glad to have his suspissions correct in that this was the leader of the group that they were currently residing in, the male would flick an ear at the question of his name. "Romanempire," He'd begin, "I used to have a last, but it's long since been forgotten and unneeded." It was something he knew that he used to have, but he couldn't remember it off the top of his head, the souls in his body restless and unwavering on their own, refusing to give up their own last name, refusing to bend to the idea that Roman had his own.
Was he lost? Not exactly but there would be no use in telling Jervis of why, exactly, he was staring at the ground so intensely as he walked. "Not lost, no. I know I'm in the Pitt and that I'm currently in the camp." Was he afraid of potentially tripping over something or someone? Yes. Was he lost? No. Glad to have his suspissions correct in that this was the leader of the group that they were currently residing in, the male would flick an ear at the question of his name. "Romanempire," He'd begin, "I used to have a last, but it's long since been forgotten and unneeded." It was something he knew that he used to have, but he couldn't remember it off the top of his head, the souls in his body restless and unwavering on their own, refusing to give up their own last name, refusing to bend to the idea that Roman had his own.