10-03-2009, 03:30 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;"> OH, yes. People always overlook how badass Barbossa is, he really is the most cutthroat and true pirate of them all. X3 I hope so, man! AND, I'm sorry, I got carried away. D:  Fish! For all his seafaring ways, the Russian wolf could not stomach the damn things. When it came to a choice between starving and fish, he'd like to starve for quite a while first. When he had to subsist on their slippery, slimy flesh, he did—but he did not like it. The only way they were halfway decent was well-cooked or dried into a jerky, to rid the flesh of that rubbery, jelly-like texture. The Russian made a face, his obvious distaste for the creatures showing. "Feesh!" he exclaimed, shaking his head. "Never could stomach 'em," he explained, again looking sheepish. What a poor pirate he really was. Still, that was interesting. Sharks were big fish, and maybe whales, too—though some claimed they were mammals just as wolves and horses and deer. The big wolf wrinkled his nose. "Ah, sharks?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. That did not make sense if Finn had lived inland and the big fish were in freshwater, since Rurik had never heard of freshwater sharks. "Can't eat them, anyways—not before they eat you," he commented. The Russian wolf was not a violent soul in the least, though if he desired to protect himself or his loved ones he could certainly manage. He was not a killer, and he had never taken another sentient life, though there was certainly that dark capacity lurking in him somewhere, as with all creatures. Looking at the iron-furred woman before him, one could guess that she had killed, though by her appearance it would seem it had been out of necessity of protecting her own survival, a cause Rurik could hardly blink at. Still, for her scars she was a rather light-hearted personality, and she seemed to enjoy his company as much as he was enjoying hers. He grinned and shook his head firmly. "I promise I am not too bright, language... it just seems to click into my head," he confessed, speaking honestly on both fronts. If anything, Rurik was somewhat clever and civilly educated, but he was not a scholar nor a philosopher. Deep subjects vexed him often, and he preferred to remain on the lighter side of life at all times. Language was a wonderful thing, he thought, and he enjoyed being able to converse in many different languages, though the skill was hardly viable in these lands. Most spoke English, and though it was one of Rurik's better languages, he had missed his mother tongue with no one around to share it with. It was not so this time, not with Silas and Liliya at home. They could always break out into the purest Russian at any time, and it was a comfort to the silvery wolf. His sable ears turned to catch her voice, his icy eyes politely turned toward Finn's face as she spoke. There were many places Rurik had not been, but he had seen most of Europe and parts of Africa, and some of this continent, as well. The world seemed to wide to travel all of it, and there was comfort in these familiar places. He nodded, having no idea just how wide this continent was. There was a comparison he could draw in journeying across Europe, however. "Aye, I can only imagine," he sympathized, shaking his ashen head. "I have seen much of Europe, and the coast of this continent. There are human maps... this one is huge," he said, marveling at how long the journey must have taken, his periwinkle eyes turning to Finn incredulously. Her question was an interesting one, and he cocked his head, confused. "I was born a Luperci. My parents both were, and all of my siblings are. How did you—are you..." he trailed off, grasping for the word. He had known it, once upon a time, but it escaped him now, and he frowned. There was a word for those who were not born with the ability to shift, those who came from isolated pockets of uninfected territory. To his knowledge, he had never encountered a Luperci Nonissi before, but one could always easily disguise that. He looked at her with consternation apparent in his features, not wishing to upset her with too prying of a question. "Do you ever walk on two legs?" he decided, phrasing it as politely as he could think to. His pallid eyes were almost apologetic, finding such a foreign subject to be almost uncomfortable, and hoping he was not prodding at one of Finn's sore spots. |