Outside of the tent villages your own people built as they migrated, following game and grazing ground of their livestock, you have always dwarfed your surroundings. But Rome dwarfs you. Never in your life have you felt miniscule.
And the people! They move about like a river recently engorged by the spring thawing of the snow packs in the mountains. Although you notice a few people eye you speculatively, most treat you as an obstacle to be avoided and go about their business.
Another thing that was different were the vigiles. Ten years ago, when you wandered out of your people's hills with barely a whisker on your chin, seeking your fortune in the human world, every watchman in every town you approached immediately sought you out. They would warn you of the dire consequences you'd suffer if you committed even the slightest infraction in their town
The watchman in Rome gave you a warning all right. He warned you, in a grandfatherly sort of way, not to let the city overwhelm you, He also invited you to visit one of the outposts of the Vigiles Urbani. They would always be happy to hire a "strapping country lad" like you.
Bemused. you wander around gawking before visiting
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