01-12-2010, 08:48 PM
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Strelein shrugged, waving his hand absently to let the other man continue speaking. Blunt was nothing to be concerned with. Blatantly rude would not fly, but to be plainly forthcoming was more than simply tolerable. The redhead nodded his head whenever it was conversationally appropriate. It may have seemed as though he agreed, and he did, but it was half absentminded of him. There was less brain power going towards what he was doing than to his thoughts. He could not stop thinking about what the silvery Russian was telling him; he would be coming to Cours des Miracles. True, he was here for a visit only now, but the fact that he could choose to stay swelled him with pride for the pack he knew for not even a year. So much existed in the pack land borders that could interest the man, though Strel did not know what truly peaked his interest. Surely, he and Jacquez would get along just fine, especially if Rurik provided the drink for the monarch.
There was plenty to see at Cours des Miracles. There was the grotto, though that was only pleasant during the warmer seasons and not when the sea was much more difficult to predict. Come to think of it, about half the most scenic places were not too nice to visit in the winter. The only the other places that the redhead could think of showing Rurik with a strong sense of pride were the Hotel, the stables, and the small town of Lunenburg they claimed as their own.
The redhead grinned and snorted, rolling his eyes at the older male. "You're asking me that as though it'll be a hard thing to do for you. It's the least I can do if it'll convince you to stay here. Besides, what are friends for?" About to turn and lead, the younger male stopped, smacking himself on the forehead with a dramatic flare. "Oh before I forget and end up traipsing all over the place with this thing." Strel pulled the pair of pants out of the crook in his arms, letting them unfurl before him. "Tada!" he cried, smiling proudly at the piece of clothing he had created for the silver Russian. "I figured I had to find a way to repay you for the first bottle, since it was valuable. So I hope that this is worth something of the same." Strel jut out the pair of pants towards Rurik, cocking his head at him.
Strelein shrugged, waving his hand absently to let the other man continue speaking. Blunt was nothing to be concerned with. Blatantly rude would not fly, but to be plainly forthcoming was more than simply tolerable. The redhead nodded his head whenever it was conversationally appropriate. It may have seemed as though he agreed, and he did, but it was half absentminded of him. There was less brain power going towards what he was doing than to his thoughts. He could not stop thinking about what the silvery Russian was telling him; he would be coming to Cours des Miracles. True, he was here for a visit only now, but the fact that he could choose to stay swelled him with pride for the pack he knew for not even a year. So much existed in the pack land borders that could interest the man, though Strel did not know what truly peaked his interest. Surely, he and Jacquez would get along just fine, especially if Rurik provided the drink for the monarch.
There was plenty to see at Cours des Miracles. There was the grotto, though that was only pleasant during the warmer seasons and not when the sea was much more difficult to predict. Come to think of it, about half the most scenic places were not too nice to visit in the winter. The only the other places that the redhead could think of showing Rurik with a strong sense of pride were the Hotel, the stables, and the small town of Lunenburg they claimed as their own.
The redhead grinned and snorted, rolling his eyes at the older male. "You're asking me that as though it'll be a hard thing to do for you. It's the least I can do if it'll convince you to stay here. Besides, what are friends for?" About to turn and lead, the younger male stopped, smacking himself on the forehead with a dramatic flare. "Oh before I forget and end up traipsing all over the place with this thing." Strel pulled the pair of pants out of the crook in his arms, letting them unfurl before him. "Tada!" he cried, smiling proudly at the piece of clothing he had created for the silver Russian. "I figured I had to find a way to repay you for the first bottle, since it was valuable. So I hope that this is worth something of the same." Strel jut out the pair of pants towards Rurik, cocking his head at him.