On the Heads, the horse runs with uncontainable energy. Its body is not engulfed in flame. It is flame. The mane fractures into tongues of fire, the tail lifts like a burning standard. It does not ask permission. It does not wait to be managed. It moves.

On the Tails, fire rises alone, vertical and luminous. Around it, the inscription:

Vitae plenus et purus.

Full of life and pure.

Fire is not destruction alone. It is ignition. It clears, refines, illuminates. It consumes what is false and leaves behind what is essential. In ancient cosmologies, fire was a living force, a purifier, a messenger between worlds. It destroys and it consecrates.

This penny holds both movements. The wild horse that refuses to be steered by expectation. The steady flame that rises upward, disciplined and bright.