09-23-2009, 12:46 AM
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http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurik_top.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:fixed; padding-top:200px; padding-left:25px; padding-right:25px; padding-bottom:10px;"> AAAH, SO EXCITED. I am rollin' out the old-school Rurik graphics for now. XDDD Oh, we have to figure out things about Agata and stuff still, and also--where Lily and Sil were born, etc. I aaaalso assumed they speak Russian, since Rurik prolly would've taught them that? XD Feels awkward right now, but we'll get into the swing of things soon. <3  Inhale. The monochrome wolf took a deep breath, his nose filled with that familiar salty scent. He loved the sea; in many ways she was his truest mistress, the woman to whom he'd devoted most of his life. There was nowhere else Rurik felt more comfortable than floating on the ocean, and it had taken him almost no time to adapt to his family's new seafaring ways. He was at home here, directing his younger children and gently guiding them in the ways of the boat. It was a tough journey with just the three of them, and Rurik sorely wished Anatoliy had come with, though he did disagree with the young wolf's decision to stay at home with his mother. They drifted ever-closer to the edge of the coast, with Rurik at the bow of the ship. This was the place of their small boat where he felt the water rock the hardest, and he felt his body rise up as they crested each rolling wave. This must be what flying must feel like, the old wolf thought to himself, blinking his brilliant eyes in the mid-morning sun. They were drawing nearer now; he had recognized the burned lands to the north, and he knew that the creatures there must have gone somewhere. This looked as good a place as any, but Rurik would not know for sure until he saw someone. To Silas, he smiled, and shook his head. "Feels 'bout right, but I denno for sure," he said in his accented voice. No matter how long he spoke English or any other language, Rurik's accent was unquestionably Russian, his words thick and choppy. The gray wolf laughed, and nodded. "Now y'got land legs and sea fins, though," he told Silas, nodding. It would be easier for him to switch back and forth between the two if the need arose in the future. Rurik made a face, turning around to face the remainder of the ship. "Lily," he called, annoyance in his voice. She had back down below deck to grab something as they'd pulled alongside the rickety old docks, as if they would not be returning here tonight. A moment later, the young she-wolf appeared in the doorframe, clutching the sword for which she was named. Wordlessly, she handed the weapon over to her father, who smiled. "Almost forgot, thank you," he said. They had taken to speaking English the past few weeks in preparation for landing here. The wolf leapt from the boat, landing on the old dock. It creaked and swayed beneath his weight, but it held. "Solid," he commented dryly, holding out a hand for Liliya to come to land. She took his hand lightly and hopped over herself, and both of the similarly-colored wolves scuttled to safer ground, closer to Silas. Liliya took several steps ahead of the pair, peering eagerly around at the streets. "Feels good to be on dry land," Lil said, though she spoke in Russian rather than English. She was not so good at English, perhaps due to her dislike of practicing the language. |