Freed from the shackles of the arena, Pavlos had been a free man.
But he had never known a freedom like this…
He was used to being surrounded by others; be it the cold palace staff that coddled him as a whelp, or the cutthroat gladiators that molded him into a man. It was always loud, chaotic, violent… But now it was…
Quiet.
He didn’t dislike it.
It was different. Suddenly, he wasn’t distracted, and could admire the rising sun as it bathed the land in golden hues. He never felt the wind so strongly before, rustling the grass around him and the mane on his neck. It whispered gently into his ears, tickled his whiskers.
Standing in the midst of the field, he closed his eyes and soaked it in. This was freedom.
But it was missing something. Someone. His heart ached, but he soothed it with the hope that his love was out there somewhere. In his mind’s eye, he pictured her in this place, frolicking through the fields, bathed in golden sunlight. Thriving. Happy.
If — no, when he finds her, he’ll show her this place. She would love it.