what about the place that we call home?

Marika Russo · 05-19-2010, 11:19 AM

[html]

Rurik! 500+

She had left and now she was coming back. Gone on the wind of war, with the bodies of the fallen to guide her. Marika didn't want war. She didn't want death and violence to follow her. She had had more than enough of it with her mother going crazy and it had scarred her as a child. This was not why she had taken a boat across the ocean. So in the night she had simply packed her things and moved on, like a ghost. Like the traveller's blood she carried in her veins. Unfortunately, there were no boats crossing. The weather was too bad at sea, the other wolves had said. They wouldn't risk a crossing and she had no one to convince. No one listened. So now she was back, like a ghost. She smiled to herself. She hadn't even had time to talk to her grandfather or uncle, no time to see the family she craved so badly.

Cour de Miracles was much as she had left it, or so it seemed. Their King was gone and she couldn't help but wonder whether this would change everything. Whether in a few weeks they would all find themselves homeless. The belt on her waist jingled slightly and she touched the familiar coins to reassure herself. That had been home, in the Carpathian Mountains, with the travelling wolves there. They had accepted her, as had this pack and Vigilante not so long ago. But now she wanted to make amends, to prove that she was not fickle, but reliable and worth keeping around. The scent of her grandfather was strong in these parts and she wanted him to see her first. She wanted him to be the one to help her come back. In a sense, it had all started with Vigilante letting her back in. But the reason she had not moved on to her usual abode was her grandfather. While it felt good to be a part of the pack again, Marika knew she would be unable to sleep until she got a chance to talk to her grandfather.

Rurik. The man's name spoke of history and stories she had not yet heard. She wanted to be a part of something again, to share with them her stories and her experiences. But first, she needed to share them with her grandfather, the reason she had travelled here to begin with. Grandfather? she called out softly. Oh, how much of a child she was. She berated herself for being such a baby. It's me, Marika. I want us to talk. I've... come back. It felt foolish not to know if he was even in or not, but she wanted to take that chance. She wanted to tell him how she missed him, how much he meant to her. And, in all fairness, his love of alcohol could not go amiss, so she could always teach him a thing or two. Marika looked forward to that. Twirling a strand of hair around her fingers, she waited for the man to emerge. Or indeed for anyone to come and find her.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?