i've heard all your sad songs i can hear

Rurik Russo · 01-16-2010, 06:55 PM

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Word Count: 410

It was not often that Rurik darted about what he wanted to say; subtlety was simply not one of his strong points. He was not a secretive creature in the least; to do so would have been against his friendly, outgoing nature. Rurik would never want to do anything to countervail making friends throughout his life, and as he already considered Strel a friend he certainly did not wish to offend the rusty-haired man. The silver-furred werewolf was quite glad to hear that the Miracles wolf considered Rurik a friend as well, and he grinned widely.

"Thank you," the Russian wolf said, quite glad to hear that he'd be able to explore this place. if the rest of them were as friendly as Strel, there was no need to worry, but Rurik wasn't so bold as to trespass onto claimed lands without a damn good reason anymore. He had not always been so aware of these more feral customs; when he'd first arrived on this continent the Russian werewolf simply was not sure how things worked, and he'd made stupid mistakes. Not so much, anymore.

The other canine brought up the tucked cloth after delivering a tap to his own forehead, seemingly worried about forgetting about the cloth—Rurik watched as the pants unraveled before his eyes, appearing to be quite delicately made. There was obviously quite a bit of care put into the detailing, and a huge grin spread across Rurik's face. He reached out to take the pants, running his fingers over the patchy details that had been stitched into the pants. "Oh!" He hadn't been expecting his payment in trade so soon; the Russian wolf's grin was impossibly large and bright. "These are great! Thank you so much!" he said enthusiastically.

Though Rurik did usually wear pants, he was raised a Luperci, and he was not ashamed of nudity. After all, fur covered most of the important parts, so Rurik was quite alright with dropping his pants then and there, drawing the new ones up his waist to test them out. He left the old ones on the ground for a moment, twisting around to show off his new duds to the other wolf. "They fit very nicely," he said, running his hands over the material. He wasn't sure what it was, but it seemed tough, and thick. These pants would last him many years. "These are very well-made," the werewolf complimented, meaning it with all earnestness.

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