not the man i thought i'd be.

Rurik Russo · 01-26-2010, 11:50 PM

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268.

Rurik hardly knew fear. He was the adventurous sort, and as he sensed no danger from this coyote, he was not afraid of her. The clan behind her was a different story, however, and he knew his fatherhood to Silas and friendship to Gabriel would not save him the clan's wrath if he did happen to cross them. So the Russian wolf was on his absolute best behavior, grinning broadly at the other canine even as she dropped the knife a bit. "There you go, love," he said, still grinning his encouragement. "I am not here to hurt you—I am looking for someone, maybe you can help?" he said, perking his coal-tipped ears up, the tip of his tail wavering in the air.

He was wearing Strel's new pants, naturally, and they hugged at the werewolf's sharp hips, their numerous pockets and rather manly designs absolutely perfect for the Russian werewolf. He hadn't really expected anything in return for the alcohol; he knew trading and barter was not so big on this continent, but it had been more than a pleasant surprise to receive these, and the werewolf's continued use of the new garments were enough to evince this fact. Strel surely would have been pleased to find Rurik wearing the gifts. "I'm a friend of Gabriel's," the Russian wolf added, his white-blue eyes focused on the pale yellow of the other canine's gaze. He did not drop the name to impress anyone; the tawny coyote appeared rather scared to Rurik, and he wanted to comfort her with familiarity—surely she knew the Aquila of the clan.

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