drink away the rest of the day.

Rurik Russo · 02-12-2010, 07:34 AM

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Bah. SLOW SIE IS SLOW. ♥

It was late evening by the time Rurik drew near to this unknown pack—he did not so much as know their name. They had not been mentioned by anyone else; then again, most canines didn't talk much about packs they weren't connected to, so perhaps it was no surprise that he did not know a pack that he had never met a member of. This he was almost sure—he did not detect familiarity from any of the scents mingled among theirs, save one faintly familiar he could not place. It might have been someone he knew from the older times; it might have been a product of his imagination. He did not know, and he figured it was unlikely he would be greeted by that wolf in particular.

He was intrigued by this pack, and he considered that they were especially anti-social as a possibility, but there were no signs of this—their border was as well marked as any of the other borders he'd seen in this land, and he figured an especially anti-social bunch would take care to mark their borders very well, as was the case with Inferni. They desired no wolfish intrusions; perhaps he was wrong and privileged in thinking he alone could bypass this basic standard of genetics by visiting them previously, but he honestly believed his friendship to Gabriel and Anselm and fatherhood to Silas meant something. That all depended on the member of the clan he met, of course.

The Russian wolf didn't dare step over the borders, but he waited outside of them—as he had no official business other than simple investigation, he did not believe his presence warranted a howl. As was often the case, Rurik was conflicted about this howling business—in Sobirat'sya, howling was used more often for celebratory purposes than communicative ones. True, they did sometimes use howling for speaking over distance, but it was far more common to hear a chorus of post-meal yowling following the obligatory shot of vodka. The werewolf leaned against a tree, smiling to himself as he thought of times back at home.

Winter had settled over the area, bringing with it the quietus of greenery within the world. All around him seemed grayish and cold; there was no signs of spring to be had yet. Rurik certainly didn't mind—winter was his favorite season and he could certainly find beauty in it. The late afternoon sun dangled close to the horizon, casting orange-yellow light over the remaining snowdrifts. The snow sparkled and twinkled as it caught the light, and Rurik sighed contentedly, glad that it was winter once more.

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