11-10-2009, 09:50 PM
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| http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurik_sinking.jpg); background-position:top center; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position:fixed; padding-top:232px; padding-left:12px; padding-right:12px; padding-bottom:10px;"> This is Rurik's boat. :O The silvery wolf was a gentle soul, and while others might have been angry that their space was so invaded, the Russian was always game for company, even if this particular company looked scared out of his mind. Rurik had no idea why; he didn't think he was particularly intimidating, forgeting he was on the taller side of the Luperci, and though he was certainly not a chunk of solid muscle, it was apparent from his build he was quite able to defend himself, if need be. Perhaps that translated to aggression in others' minds, but Rurik was not a violent creature, and he generally only resorted to such tactics when they were forced on him first. The younger canine answered the Russian with one word, and his clipped voice and sudden greenish tint told the silvery wolf all he needed to know, and he jumped aside, wincing as the golden canine retched and lost his lunch over the side of the boat. "Landlubbers," he muttered punctuating it with a short chuckle, though he had to admit he had hardly been able to stomach his first boat. Perhaps he was lucky for starting so young; being a puppy on the floor of his father's fishing boat had certainly helped him learn to deal with the tossing waves. He dipped into the deep pocket of his tattered denim jeans, prying from it the small silver case in which he kept his goodies. It matched the flask he had attached to his belt, but he doubted the boy could use liquor right about now. The silvery werewolf flipped open the case, drawing a slim joint from it. He lit it, inhaling two big puffs himself, and holding out the smoking thing to the golden-furred wolf. "Oy, smoke this. You'll feel much better," he assured the wolf, knowing marijuana had anti-emetic properties. It would settle his stomach and relax him. The Russian returned to the far end of the tiny boat, extending an oar down into the water and plopping down on the little bench there, using the oar to steer the boat. "Come sit down here, less rocking," the wolf said, motioning to the boy to come closer. Toward the prow of the boat, there was a lot of rocking and thrashing, and the rear end was a lot calmer. |
