Dude, they're packmates now; they'll have to meet. 
Also since I'm thinking Rurik might work as a Page and Haven is the uh, whatever-is-above-Page. I'll remember sooner or later, lolll. But it's not that Rurik is any good with horses, I just think it'd be hilarious for him to have to chase one or something, IDK. XD But yeah, Rurik is a social butterfly, apparently. :p ((419))
Though it had been only days since his acceptance at the Miracles pack, the silver-furred Russian felt the need to branch out, and as he found himself closer than ever to this mystery pack, he decided now was as good a time as ever. Though he was uncertain as to the relationship between his new pack and the one whose borders he now haunted, Rurik was certain that someone would have mentioned poor relations, either Vigilante or Strelein. He hadn't the time yet to seek out the rest of the pack; he'd busied himself the last few days by hauling more of his possessions from the city. A horse would have made his life a hell of a lot easier, but he did not yet know anyone well enough to have asked to borrow one.
The silver-furred werewolf wasn't alone for very long; before long an unknown man was making his way forward, drawing the Russian wolf's attention. Rurik's sable ears pricked forward and his sky-blue eyes strained to see in the fading light; perhaps he might have picked a better time to visit, but the day had been a slow one, and he'd rather enjoyed spending most of it lounging after the days he'd spent working to transport more of his belongings to the pack. Some would remain in the locked-up ship, hopefully safe from would-be robbers. However, Rurik thought the most important thing there was the ship itself. It was no Syemv, certainly—but it was decently sized and made for the sea, intended to be manned by as few as one person—perfect for his needs. Of course, it was far easier to navigate the wild blue yonder with more than one's lonesome, but sometimes that simply couldn't be helped—Rurik had made the journey across the ocean just once alone, and he didn't care to do it again.
Smiling broadly, the werewolf lifted his hand in a wave, still remaining beyond the pack's border. The other man was close enough for Rurik to make out an interesting blue streak across his fur, just beneath his eyes. “Hello there! I am Rurik Russo of Cour des Miracles. I don't need help, no, but I have never been this way and I was curious about your pack here,” he said, trying to put forth his best impression. He wasn't as good at relating to men as he was with women, for obvious reasons—it wasn't possible to flirt his way out of trouble with most men, unfortunately.
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