This woman seemed rather quiet, and the silver-shaded werewolf knew he ought not to be his usual merry and explosive self. Though his friendliness was always intended in the best way possible, he knew sometimes he could be overwhelming—and with this slight femme before him, he did not wish to drive her off. She was in her four-legged form, though Rurik knew it was always possible she was not a Luperci. Normal wolves were more common in this part of the world than his homeland, and Rurik was not one to hold that against anyone. He smiled again, intent on keeping things friendly. “Do you seek a home here? Zhis is fine, zhis is good—but eef not, I zhink I am supposed to ask you to go,” the man said, his bright blue eyes lingering on the ground at his feet. He was clearly uncomfortable with this idea, but he knew he had to serve his pack—being friendly was less important than making sure everyone in the pack remained safe, and he could not account for this stranger roaming free within the lands just yet. “I ahm Duke Rurik Russo of zhis pack,” he added, hoping an introduction would make things go smoothly.
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