you painted the sky back to blue

Rurik Russo · 07-27-2010, 04:59 AM

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Word Count :: 417

There was something incredibly calming about walking with the golden-hued woman; Rurik had been nervous before, he had been anxious and he had been quite out of place, but this was gone now, replaced by a sort of serenity that seemed to radiate outward from Rikka. It was infectious, and the silver-shaded hybrid would have been a liar to say he did not enjoy this feeling; even so, the cautious nature at his core, the sore and broken heart lurking beyond his ribcage yanked him back to reality each time he got too comfortable, and so it was in his mind—a tug of war between the familiarity and comfort he took in her very presence, and the old sharp instincts of his heart. “Aye, it shows,” he said, smiling. The silver-shaded werewolf had been surprised, to say the least, to see she had showed up here in Cour des Miracles, but he could hardly begrudge her, given the circumstances. Gabriel had thought it was a good idea, and so it had to be. The silver-shaded werewolf trusted the de le Poer man's judgment—after all, Gabe had already proven himself to be a far more capable alpha than Rurik himself. One needed only glance at dead and buried Syemv for proof of that.

Though Rurik had merely contemplated aloud, the silver-shaded werewolf did not have to align himself to her exact worldview, nor vice versa; the truest beauty of the world was in its difference. There was something quaint and beautiful in the golden woman's worldview regardless. Though Rurik knew, of course, the world was far from sunshine all the time, it was refreshing to find one who hadn't yet been touched by the taint of darkness. She was innocence personified, considering what she had risen out of. Sexual pursuits certainly didn't factor into his consideration of innocence. “Aye. Some places, zhey say everyzhing has spirit—trees and bushes and bugs, all of zhat. Places, too, maybe?” he said, finding this fascinating. He had never considered such beliefs to be truth; he did not understand the concept of tree spirits. “Aye. And I zhink maybe zhe world, it is better for zhis. You think eet es funny, zhe way humans die, and we become two-legged? We replace them, maybe?” the werewolf asked. He was not a philosopher, but he felt comfortable sharing such things with Rikka; he did not think she was the type to ridicule him for the things he thought, not in the least.

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