Today, the summer festival spread across the park like spilled sunlight. Bright tents, banners fluttering, the scent of grilled food weaving through the warm air. Music thumped from the main stage, laughter rose in rolling waves, and somewhere a child shrieked after losing a balloon to the sky.

Roger Wayne guided his horse Justice through the crowd with easy familiarity, the leather reins loose in his gloved hand. Justice’s hooves clicked steadily against the stones of the walkway, slow and imposing, and heads turned wherever they passed. Not because Roger wanted attention—he hated it, actually—but because Justice was enormous and Roger, perched on his back, looked like he was carved from someone’s “Do Not Mess With Me” warning sign.

Most people quieted when they saw him, some stepped aside quickly, a few whispered. Roger ignored all of it, eyes scanning the sea of festival-goers with professional detachment. His partner rode a few meters behind, equally alert, but it was Roger the crowd reacted to first. The uniform. The posture. The silent confidence of a man who knew exactly how to use his voice, and exactly when not to.

The sunlight struck the edges of his salt-and-pepper hair, turning the strands at his temples silver. His jaw was set, stubble catching the light each time he turned his head. Justice’s ears flicked at every burst of sound, but the horse remained calm, steady as a heartbeat beneath him. It was loud, chaotic, bright—everything Roger usually hated. And yet… he didn’t mind today. The noise wasn’t the kind that crawled under his skin. This was people enjoying themselves. People he could protect, simply by existing where they could see him.

A little girl pointed at Justice with wide eyes but her father lifted her onto his shoulders, murmuring something Roger didn’t catch. A vendor shouted about fresh lemonade and firecrackers popped somewhere far off. Roger shifted in the saddle, scanning the perimeter with that signature narrowed gaze that said “I’m watching you, don’t even think about it.”

Justice tossed his head once, huffed, and nudged Roger’s knee with a warm breath like a reminder: you’re alright. Roger smirked under his breath, barely more than a twitch of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling me that.” He huffed. The festival hummed around them, alive with energy, and Roger rode on, unaware that the day was about to get… significantly more interesting.