Omg. XD Rurik is not badass. <3 He is just a dopey man, and hard to scare?! XD OH I WILL CHARGE IN ANYWAI... you know. Testosterone. ;D
The werewolf turned brightly to Anselm at the joke, finding it quite funny. He expressed it in his usual manner—a belly laugh and a knee slap, his brilliantly blue eyes glinting as they gazed at the other man. "Aye, you should see where I go to get some 'shrooms," he said, recalling the English slang for the drug. "No, no... I come back here to try and find my sons, you know? I lived here before, headed back home, and... well," he considered, wondering if it was alright to open up to the other man about what had happened between him and Kiska, all of Inferni really—by all rights he should have had a massive grudge against them, but he simply didn't have it in him to harbor ill will toward much of anything.
"Don't suppose you know anybody named Zaets, Zorish, or Vladimir, eh?" the wolf asked hopefully, turning toward the other man. The werewolf would never tire of searching for them, and he would seek them out no matter how thin the search became. Any information was of use to him; where they had been, where they had gone, what they were doing—he had wanted to show his younger children different parts of the world, and now they were at the destination, and he was no closer to discovering his elder sons' whereabouts. The other wolf spoke again, and the werewolf listened, quite business-like as he considered the man's words. Rurik still did not connect the idea that Anselm's membership to Inferni indicated some level of coyote blood. "Hrmm. I had stopped off over in Amsterdam before I made my way over here. I got a couple poppy seeds should still be good, and some mushrooms—don't know how you'd get those to reproduce, though," the werewolf said, shrugging. He knew next to nothing about cultivation of these sorts of things; he was more or less simply a harvester of them. "Always got good liquor, too... though you can't quite grow that," he said with another laugh.
The werewolf nodded earnestly at the continued talk of Gabriel and then stopped, gazing at Anselm closely. "Aha. I do see some resemblance there," he said, grinning and nodding his head. "Cousin, huh? I knew Gabriel back when he was pretty young, I guess," the werewolf said, grinning from ear to ear. "That's when I lived here for some time before. Well, not here. Back up where Gabriel is from, I suppose," the werewolf babbled, finally picking up the lighter and the bowl and taking a long, thick drag, holding onto it for a moment before exhaling it in a giant cloud. He coughed immediately, feeling the swirling buzz of marijuana creeping through his brain. "Good stuff," he complimented.
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