Agreed! I love him and his little monkey and his big hat. I was so happy when I saw him at the end of the second movie. And don’t worry about getting carried away, I like reading your posts! Also, Feesh! Made me snort pop out of my nose.
Finn snorted, unable to stifle the chuckle that rose from her throat. ”I’m sorry, I mean no offence. I just, heh, I just haven’t heard fish pronounced quite like that.” She tried to look contrite and failed stupendously, as her eyes still sparked with laughter and a smile hovered around her lips. She really hoped Rurik wasn’t too sensitive about her mirth, Finn was well travelled but had problems with knowing what could be construed as rude or not. ”Sharks? I’ve never seen a shark. They can eat wolves too?” She added, vaguely horrified. It seemed she could never escape wolf-eating water-dwelling creatures. They owned the lakes and, apparently, the sea.
”I’ve never liked them much myself. All cold and slimy… I’d rather a rabbit any day.” Finn hadn’t been very good at catching them, either. Even when her life depended on scrounging up another meal she avoided the stream entirely, opting instead to scrounge for field mice like a coyote. There was something about their big, wide, dead eyes and gasping little mouths that made her queasy. Rabbits made high pitched screams when you caught them, but fish just lay there, wiggling as you gnawed away. Her brothers had ate fish with relish, flipping them out of streams with their paws like the bears did, and Finn liked to watch their shows of agility, but she was always somewhere else when it came time for supper.
Finn nodded at Rurik’s words, thinking. Nothing had ever come easily too her, except for being gung-ho about fighting. She hadn’t been very good at it when she started, and it was only through a lot of hard work and scars that she came to be halfway to decent. She had never even looked at a book, though she knew what one looked like, and couldn’t read or write. All in all, she was poorly educated in the ways of mathematics, or science or languages, but she knew how to survive and, until lately, that had been enough.
”Aye, it is. I spent months upon months walking through this place that was as flat as a worn rock. Miles upon miles of emptiness. It was hard hunting there, but I managed. I don’t think I’ll ever return there again, it was terrible in the summer and I usually love the heat.” She missed the mountains sometimes. The only one here was rather lacklustre compared to the harsh, grasping and forbidding peaks of her childhood, but what separated her was that immense, awful plain, and Finn didn’t think she could cross a second time and return with her life.
Finn fidgeted uncomfortably, seeing how on guard she had put Rurik. ”It’s all right,” She assured him, ”I’ve never walked on two legs, not like you can, I don’t think I have another form.” Her family lived in remote region, and rarely had much to do with the other packs. Finn’s suspicion of large groups of wolves had been inherited from Cuhlain Fidh, who shunned the large pack structure and opted instead to take care of and protect his immediate family and his immediate family only.
The whole Luperci thing, distressed Finn. She wanted to do what the others could do, and hated not having the option of being able to change. But at the same time, striving to become a Luperci seemed like something she wasn’t supposed to do. She was born a wolf, right? Shouldn’t she remain with what form she had been given? Finn felt like she was missing out, and knew that it decreased her chances of winning a fight when her opponent could change into something with a much longer reach. One of these days, she would pick a fight with the wrong wolf, and then there would be no more fighting, no more travelling, no more living.
”What is it like, though? To be able to walk around on two legs? To use a sword?” Finn’s curiousity returned in full force. There were still so many questions to ask, and she found that the time passed quickly as she conversed with Rurik.