O yes! I mostly just wing it. >__> And slowsie is slow. D;
Of anyone, Rurik could understand the need to wander, and he did not hold it against Marika for wishing to depart. The war had made him nervous, as well, especially considering that Silas was Inferni. But it had passed; aggression no longer coated the wind, and the coppery scent of blood no longer tinged the air. He smiled at her question, and settled to the porch as well, offering her the flask from which he had been drinking. “Much better, actually. The war is over. Silas came to me and to tell me this,” he explained. “Now, I don't have to worry about my son anymore,” he said, clearly relieved at this prospect.
When she told him she wished to remain in the Miracles pack, he could have leapt for joy. Rurik wanted nothing more than to forge a relationship with this unknown branch of his family—he had never been close with his sons, and maybe he could make up for some of that to his sons' children. “I am so glad you have decided to stay,” he said, reaching out to clasp her hand for a moment. “Your family is in Russia, but it is here, too.” Sobirat'sya was her ancestral home, but she held only her spoken tongue in connection to it—maybe she had never seen it. “Anything! Everything! Where were your born? Do you know where your father is? What is your life like? What do you like?” he said, laughing and rapid-firing questions at her in Russian. “What do you want to know about me?” he asked in return.
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