Octavian had run off to the forest; again. Away from his family villa, away from it all. His toga was starting to get dirt on it, and he settled for irately sitting down on the edge of a bed of the creek nearby.

He was- well, he was pouting. He’d gotten into an argument with his father, yelling about futures as an orator and finding some way to be in the imperial court other than following in the family footsteps and being "Unremarkable General and advisor number III. His father was yelling about Octavian joining the legions; earning recognition through battle. Of course Octavian stormed off and his father left for the Capitol (Rome; as the villa was much north of Rome).

Now he sat there; dirtied and angry and not anywhere near the standing of how the son of an advisor to the Emperor should look or behave. But that was Octavian for you. He cared about his whole appearance and how all of it looked and his family legacy; but he was angry, and when Octavian was upset most of that flew out of the window.