Romulus Pontus is the sort of Cane Corso who is broad shouldered and quiet enough that other pups confess things unprompted. At sunset Romulus Pontus sits by the swamp shrine and hums to a rusted key that fits no door anyone has found until the wind returns the favor. On busy market days Romulus Pontus carries a chip of blue tile from beneath the flying den like a small flag, and stallkeepers nod as it passes. Romulus Pontus may not know the truth of the old world, but that never stops a good theory from becoming lunch talk.