Message In A Bottle

Rurik Russo · 07-12-2010, 10:57 PM

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Pale blue eyes gazed listlessly into the gloom of the day; it seemed that it had been raining forever now. He could hardly remember the sunshine. Though Rurik was not normally one to allow the weather to dictate his mood, he could not help but feel slighted by these storms; today should have been a gorgeous summer day, and instead he was caged inside of his house like a pet rat. Leaning against the pane, the silver-shaded werewolf pressed the wet tip of his nose to the cold glass of the window, sighing rather childishly. Suddenly renewed, the silver-shaded man sat straight up, a look of determination crossing his face.

He wasn't about to let some rain ruin a good day, and so he stood, calling a good-bye to an unresponsive Liliya as he went out the door and into the pounding storm. Almost immediately, he regretted his decision—just as quickly as he had left his home, he was soaked to the bone. Grumbling, the silver-shaded werewolf stripped off his pants, leaving them in a soaking pile on his front porch. It didn't matter if they sat in the rain; he'd clean them and hang them long before they even thought about going moldy.

A strange sound cut through the constant din of the falling rain; the silver-shaded werewolf listed his head curiously, recognizing his own name in the voice of a stranger. Confused, the man hesitated for a moment, wondering why someone he did not know would beckon for him. Rurik was not a suspicious canine, and he began heading toward the source of the howl, navigating his way over the rainy terrain carefully. Before long, he could see not one but three figures through the gloom—he was surprised, to say the least. The silver-shaded werewolf smiled awkwardly, recognizing only one of these three.

“Allo,” the Russian wolf said, a rather confused but altogether friendly smile placed squarely on his muzzle. For once in his life, Rurik did not quite know what to say.

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