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Rikka dropped the old rugs in a pile on the ground, seeing that they would be of no more use to her. From there she moved back into the confines of the homey little shack and looked around. She would need to go find a broom or something to dust this place out. Once that was done though, some new rugs, a little table, some wind chimes and this place would be a nice little sanctuary for her. More ideas began to swirl in her head. Why stop there? There was even more she could do to this little neglected shack. A bead curtain would be wonderful in the doorway, much nicer than an actual door but still something to give her some privacy. A couple more rugs just outside the entrance would be nice too. Oh! She could get a couple poles to put in the ground and make a little canopy to shield her from the sun in the summer. That would be wonderful! Better yet, a tie dye canopy. The hybrid woman could make this place all her own!
Her mind swirling with ideas, she barely heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Rikka had dismissed it as only someone passing nearby. To her knowledge, she didn't know anyone else who lived here and so the thought that someone could have recognized her scent and was searching her out hadn't occurred to her at all. Of course she did want to meet the others she now lived with, but currently her focus was on what she could do with this little building. At the sound of her name she nearly jumped and turned her face wide-eyed towards the outside again. Who was that? The metallic hued de le Poer poked her head out and saw someone she definitely hadn't thought to see here. "Rurik?" She stepped completely out of the shack then, exposing herself to the light and his view. "I...didn't have any idea you lived here." It was clear that he did though, for the pack scent hung heavily on him. A small wave of self consciousness came over her and her hand moved to try and cover the scar that encircled her upper arm. Would he still think her pretty as a flower now that she was scarred? Not that he didn't have his own, but scars seemed to be one of those things in which there was a double standard.
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