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Rurik understood moody spirits. “Aye,” he said, more seriously than he'd spoken in moments, and straightened up. “Maybe you give him something, offer something, he will be better? Zhis sometime vork vith Domovoi,” he said. Even so, there were some that were simply beyond all happiness—the one in the Syemv house had never been happy, to Rurik's knowledge. Or perhaps it had just been unhappy with him, knowing what he'd done to Kiska and his newborn family. That would not have surprised the silver-shaded werewolf in the least.
At the man's words, the werewolf studied him for a moment, puzzlement filtering through the alcohol. “But... vhy you come back? Vhy you stay, zhen?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. He did not understand—when the world called to him, he answered, and he did so rather quickly. There was no stopping him once the sea called him back again and the itch got into his bones to move along. “Zhere is vhole vide verld to see,” he said. Rurik had wanted to see the whole world when he was young, too—and he had let nothing stop him. in this quest.
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