Verdant Basin of gasoline and roses

@Nagi

the early morning, streaked by citrine orange rays of sunlight that shine through the thick, concealing grey clouds defiantly during the short times that they drift across the sky painted in colors of candyfloss blue, pink and purples. mostly, though, hadrian feels the heavy weight of the oppressive clouds of the overcast morning, weaving through the fog that lingers over the basin, feeling and breathing the sticky moisture that causes the hair at his nape to curl.

a focus of frostbound silver gaze on the rich emerald grass beneath his paws — slick with morning dew — and the blue lagoon stretching out before him as he moves towards its bank tells him that on a more pleasant day this basin is probably quite a sight to behold. even now: concealed by overcast sky and writhing fog the legionnaire can tell that it's a gem of a territory nestled, hidden, protected contently in the heart of the hinterlands.

he stretches languidly for a moment, the pull of muscles shaking off the last vestiges of sleep before he bows his head towards the lagoon waters and laps at them eagerly finding that its as crisp and refreshing as the basin promises.