like a toast at a table.

Rurik Russo · 03-20-2010, 05:58 AM

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Maybe if a few members could jump in? :o Rurik will maek FEESH for your characters? XD ((561))

Rurik had only been a member of the pack for two days now, and already he was itching to meet new packmembers. He knew Vigilante and liked him already, and he was already quite friendly with Strel, but he didn't know anyone else yet, and he was eager to meet the various faces amongst his packmates. He was certain to find their company enjoyable. The silver-furred werewolf had spent the better part of the last few days moving his things from the family hideout in Halifax; he was mostly done, and everything that was still there could wait. Today would be a day for leisure, Rurik thought.

The silver-furred werewolf made his way toward the Shattered Coast, his fishing pole thrown over his shoulder. He had a bottle of vodka and a thick joint rolled in his silver cigarette case, all good items for a day spent lounging. He also carried some unusual implements—he'd decided to bring with him some cooking implements and a few spices he used to cook occasionally. He wasn't anywhere near as skilled as Thorn had been, but at least his cooking was palatable. Anatoliy hadn't seemed too interested in coming, but Liliya had decided to accompany her father. She was almost a year and a half old now; the silver-furred werewolf expected she wanted to branch out and meet some canines her own age. She was very likely tired of hanging around her old dad and her brother all the time.

Rurik considered Lily old enough to drink and smoke now; he hadn't introduced her to it, but she had come home a little tipsy one night, and they'd had something of a talk together. It wasn't nearly as awkward as a sex talk—Rurik was still dreading that one. At least they'd managed to be comfortable around one another; Rurik no longer felt bad about having a few sips of his flask around Liliy, though he still hadn't been drunk around her, nor the other way around. The silver-furred Russian and his daughter were not particularly garrulous as they made their way along the coast, picking their way down the cliffs to the beach. The tide was low and they were able to wade out to one of the closest little island without getting particularly wet; the water only came a little above Rurik's knees. Once they were settled down, the Russian wolf got to fishing, and Liliy started a little fire, chattering a little about the pack. She was more nervous than the elder Russo about meeting her packmembers.

After a few moments, the ashen-furred werewolf caught a tiny fish, which he promptly cut up for bait. A few moments after that, he brought in a larger fish, one they were able to keep. He instructed Liliy as to how to prepare it with a splash of vodka and a thin sprinkle of spice and she set it on the fire, the tantalizing smell of cooking fish soon filling the air. Rurik didn't like to eat fish, sure, but he had said to Vigilante that he intended to help to provide for the pack, and he intended to make good on that promise. A nice feast of freshly-caught fish would certianly make for a good introduction, Rurik thought, lounging back against a tree, the end of his crudely-made pole dangling above the water.

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