contaminating everything [p]
#26
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Hokay, so we will wrap this one up here, and plot for moar Rurik-Lolita laters, y/y? :3


“Whenever, wherever,” he said with a grin, reinforcing the permanence of the meeting—he was cool with not setting anything in stone other than that it would be quite nice to hang out again and a plan (abstract and at an unknown point in time) was all he required. The silver-furred werewolf was certainly appreciative of free-spirited-ness; he was not seeking commitment anywhere, and he would not change for anyone. The only girl who had ever had the possibility of truly roping him in and settling him down had long passed out of his life—Kiska was nothing more but a minty green ghost in his head, her dyed fur a cherished memory of his, though he tried not to keep her in his head for too long. Their relationship had been put to quietus; there was no need to keep digging it up again.


The silver-furred werewolf had never been to Dahlia de Mai—he was relatively new to these lands and he hardly knew the names of all the packs. This could be a learning opportunity as well, he figured—after all, he wanted to secure a niche in this strange new place just as well as he had in the old place. Even then, the silver-furred werewolf knew he had done it the wrong way last time—starting up his own group had been ill-advised; he would have been better to relinquish Syemv once the original members had departed and simply melded the remnants into one of the area packs. These were entirely new lands, though, and Dahlia de Mai had nothing to do with Syemv. “Dahlia de Mai, huh? I'll be sure to swing by—maybe we can go for a walk on the beach, eh?” he said, a grin sliding across his features. The beach was his favorite spot to take girls—something about the salt and sea and being with him seemed to deaden their inhibitions, though he supposed it might not matter where he took his lovers, after all.



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