The salty breeze that wafted along the coast brushed aside a dangling strand of Decimus's ebony hair. He listened to the soothing, gentle lapping of the waves against the hull of his boat. A lone seagull cried out overhead, but other than that, it was silent. For nearly two hundred years, Decimus lived in this quiet, serene setting. 

   Living alone just outside of Ancona, Decimus wanted for nothing. He felt truly free for the first time since he came to Italia from his place of birth in the far north. Germania Inferior was covered in majestic woods, but this place had both the woods and the sea to satisfy him. 

   Decimus was free, no longer a gladiator in Verona and no longer a wine merchant in Pompeii obligated to care after a business he didn't care for or slaves he had no business owning. He was free from societal expectations and free to live as his nature always intended.

   Squinting his hazel eyes out over the shimmering sea that stretched on before him, he had almost forgotten what he came there for. The sea had that effect on him. It made him forget. That's why he loved it so much. 

   He leaned down to take the cast net and stood up. With a deft throw, he tossed it out beside his boat, letting the weighted ends spread the net wide over the surface of the water. 

   With a splash, the net sank down and ensnared a school of fish. With a net this size and a catch that large, any normal man would need the help of two or three others in the boat. But Decimus didn't need anyone's help to pull in the heavy load. 

   Fish tails wiggled and thrashed wildly as he synched the net closed and hauled them all into the boat, dampening the floor with seawater. 

   It was the same routine, day in and day out, but Decimus never tired of it. These fish would not only serve as his meals throughout the day, but as a secondary income. He'd take what he didn't need to the fishmonger in Ancona. 

   Taking up the oars, Decimus set to rowing back to the rocky shore. The wooden paddles slapped against the water with each powerful stroke. Decimus barely worked up a sweat as his strong arms labored in their circular motion to bring him back to land. 

   He hopped out over the edge when the hull scrapped against the sandy bottom and with one hand pulled the boat, still loaded with his catch, clean out of the water and onto the beach. His home was a short distance from the beach, concealed by the hulking trees of the forest that surrounded Ancona. 

   Another advantage to isolation was that no one was around to see him exude his inhuman strength or other abilities that would shock the average Roman.

   But he wasn't alone on the beach. 

   Heaving the net full of fish over his shoulder, he began his trek up to the tree line. On the wind, he could smell more than pines and salty fish. He looked up and froze as a pair of golden eyes stared at him from the shadows of the woods.

 
   Joined by those eyes was the figure of a wolf, clad in a silvery pelt of varying shades of white, gray and streaks of black. She was a beauty to behold with a piercing gaze. 

   The beast stirred within Decimus and his own eyes changed to reflect those of the female wolf that gazed back at him. The beast felt threatened, like this wolf would invade his territory and push him out. But Decimus knew that was absurd.  Even if she tried, this meager wolf could not run him off. Not with being as skinny as she was. 

   Below her thick pelt, Decimus could tell she hadn't eaten in a long time. Farmers and shepherds must have driven her off their lands before she could steal a meal. And without a pack, Decimus knew she had no chance of hunting big game that would satisfy her rumbling stomach. 

   The wolf licked her lips hungrily. She saw the fish, but fear of this strange man with golden eyes kept her from attacking. Decimus watched as she flitted around the low bushes, her massive paws kneading at the ground anxiously. He heard her shrill whine, begging him, pleading for him to have mercy upon her. 

   Decimus took a few slow steps forward, being careful not to frighten her away. The wolf did not retreat skittishly like most wild animals would have. 

   Letting the load on his shoulders down onto the sand, he reached in and pulled out a particularly large bass. He squatted to the ground and offered it out to her. 

   Any other man, woman or child would have entreated to the animal in that silly baby voice, treating the beast like an inferior creature. Decimus did no such thing. He was equal with this wolf. He may have walked on two legs instead of four and had no fur covering his body now, but they shared a wild spirit deep within them. 

   The wolf tested the distance between them, jumping back and forth nervously. Finally, the female leapt forward and clutched the fish between her massive, sharp fangs and scurried off deeper into the woods. 

   Decimus watched the way she loped off, her hind end and tail bouncing with each long stride until she disappeared from sight. 

   He began to wonder how she came to be alone. Did her pack abandon her? Banish her? Did she leave of her own accord? Or perhaps she was lost, trying to find a home that suited her. Maybe she was looking for a mate to start her own family.

 
   He crouched there for a long while, breathing in her scent, memorizing it and hoping that this was not the last time he would see the wolf. He could use a companion.

 

(End of Excerpt)