Word Count :: 654
Even as the elder male turned back to fishing, his sable-furred ear was turned back to catch Zasha's words, listening with interest. He had never heard of her homeland—then again, Russia was a very large country, and sparsely populated in some spots. He had never been very far east, anyway—he liked the hustle and bustle of European cities, though he was certain that her homeland had its merits. He had never been to a place he really disliked, so he assumed everywhere likely had some good in it. Niro had come over to where he fished; there was only a few feet between the boys and the girls, but Rurik would be eager to turn back toward his new friends. Rurik was no neophyte when it came to making friends, and having his back turned for too long would make no good impression.
Liliya was listening to Zasha with interest, her bright blue eyes focused on the other woman even as she stirred at the fish with the wooden spatula tool, prodding its flesh occasionally. “What places you have seen? Father take me to see Aunt Zharky in place called Amsterdam. Mine cousins live there, they are nice! But zhis, zhis is... city, not pack,” the woman said, chattering eagerly with the other she-wolf. Liliy was surely enjoying the companionship. “Well, we leave when I vas... seven, eight months? Maybe. But oh, journey vas very, very long here. Yours too, yes?” she asked.
Meanwhile, The silver-furred male spoke to Niro, however, his voice elevated enough so that the others could listen in if they chose to. “To feesh is easy for me, but I was raised doing this, so maybe I do not really know,“ the man said, grinning. “But you need pole to feesh this way. I make one for you, if you want! You use feesh food for bait. Zhis can be other feesh, worm, meat... feesh like lots of things,“ the werewolf said, nodding sagely. Fish liked all kinds of food. “You wait for line to pull. This takes long time sometimes, but that is why they do not call it ‘getting,’” the Russian said, completely bungling the old adage about why they call it fishing and not catching.
However, today seemed like a day for biters—it was at that moment that the line gave a tug again. Rurik gave it a moment, and suddenly yanked the pole, hopefully hooking the fish in the lip. Sure enough, the desperate tugging at the other end told him he had been successful. The Russian werewolf's pole was rather rudimentary, to be certain—the fishing line only wrapped up around the end, and he was not able to truly reel it in. Years of practice had taught him how to use this tool well, however, and after a few moments of tug of war, the werewolf was able to land the fish, dragging it ashore. “Not too hard! If you want, you try next, and I vhill help you,” he said, grinning and standing back up, turning just in time to see the new woman arrive. He grinned and waved his hello, noting the woman's brightly colored hair.
“Allo, Orin,” Liliy said, grinning her greeting at the woman. “I am Liliya. Would you like a feesh? Mine father catch one for you, too, and I vhill cook,” the young woman said, smiling brightly. Rurik came up behind her with the next catch in his hand. “Hello there. Rurik Russo, the feesherman here! Good to meet you,” the man said, his tail wavering. This was a nice group of people, he thought. Very nice, indeed! He was already comfortable with everyone's friendliness here. “Everyone, eat please if you are hungry,” Liliya said, pointing to the plate. She slid the second fish onto it and began to cook the third, smiling over at her dad. She was also enjoying the company, of course.
<style>
.rurik-gifterin p {text-indent:40px; margin:0px; padding:0px;}
.rurik-gifterin b{color:#FFFEEB;}
.rurik-gifterin-liliya{color:#C0BFAF; font-weight:bold;}
</style>[/html]