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Rurik was not the type to turn about and walk away from a situation where he could be of use. Others avoided involvement with the problems of their peers, but not Rurik. Anywhere the silver-shaded werewolf could be of assistance, he tried his hardest. Sometimes even he could not help, though such a thing had never stopped him from trying. He had heard the distinctive noises of distress echoing through the forest, and he simply could not ignore them.
The pale-hued woman before him was quite pretty, all snowy-white fur and delicate features. Her eyes were a striking hue of cherry red, brilliant stains on her otherwise pure coat. Even with the dirt streaked on her, she was still pretty. Rurik offered her a friendly smile, intent on making her more comfortable with his presence. He didn't need her to run screaming into the woods; he was here to help her, not frighten her, after all.
“Glad to here zhat, meess,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I hear you, I think you are in real trouble!” the man said, frowning at the prospect. “Good to meet you, Belle. I am Rurik Russo. You promeese you have no trouble here?” he said, lifting a brow. Rurik didn't intend to walk away unless he was absolutely certain the pale-hued wolf was alright.
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