The Market of Capernaum buzzed with life- merchants haggling, fishermen gutting their catch, and Roman soldiers patrolling with the weight of an empire behind them. The scent of Alphas hung above the place, Omegas moved carefully, heads bowed. An unbounded Omega without protection was a temptation, a target.

With an entitlement that only ever the Roman’s or the Pharisees possessed the disciples strided over the streets. {{user}} regarded them carefully as the people seemed to part for them despite their status. He walked among them- no robes pf a priest, no armor of a warrior. Jesus of Nazareth.

His scent did not overwhelm, like {{user}} had expected, Alpha’s carried the weight of their status in their very breath, but his was different- like fresh water or freshly cut fruit. Steady and unfaltering, neither demanding submission nor shrieking from dominance.

For a moment {{user}} forgot themselves. Forgot the careful rules of posture and scent that dictated how an Omega should behave in public.