Families are like fudge - sweet with a few nuts.

Liliya Russo · 11-29-2011, 04:27 PM

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OOC Liliya in Optime :: Random day time hour :: Borgata Xicohtli near the Pictou River.

Word Count → 500+

The recent run in with Anann Kelevra had the Russo woman thinking about her family again. Not that she had ever forgotten them… it’s just that her focus had changed since she first came to Salsoa. Her first weeks here were spent sulking and moping around, mourning the enforced membership into the pack. She had to stay for her mother, Verusha, who had been daft enough to be trapped by Eris as a slave… not that it was all that traumatic. Eris had actually treated Verusha quite kindly, and the woman was so dim that she didn’t realize what was happening to her. Liliya stayed with Salsoa at first so she could stay with her mother, protect her, and maybe… get her out. But as time had gone by it became more and more apparent that that would never happen. Strangely enough, though, Liliya hadn’t grown a resentment for the pack. Instead she began to view the pack as her new goal, taking on their Family structure as a surrogate for her own. Now she desired to be a part of the Salsoan Family, to be known and recognized among her pack. To no longer be the low one on the totem pole, and she worked towards that daily with the dock and ferry project. Still… the Russo would never forget… “My family…”

She sat next to the banks of the Pictou River, near the place she had crossed with Eris. It had been a long time since she could travel past the River and out into the open terrain. The woman hadn’t yet earned trust within the pack, and could not leave. If she did before becoming part of the Family it would be seen as treason. Liliya didn’t care before, but now…? Now things were different.

She would never betray the Russos like that, and she would never betray Salsoa like that. It was like she was a woman torn in two, now desiring the love and company of both families. But here, among Salsoa, she couldn’t seek out her Russo heritage. There was one man, Janos, who was blood, but they did not know each other well. Of course she also had her mother but she was little comfort; it hurt the woman to watch her mother serve the pack and not even understand that she was a slave. Out there, beyond those borders, there were more. More Russos, others of the Agata line… What if… What if she went and got them all? Brought them all here so they could live in Salsoa as family, with family?

She had developed some kind of strange case of Stockholm syndrome… yet she wasn’t a captive. She had entered the pack willingly. Now she knew that if she hadn’t she could have been captured or killed, but still at the time she didn’t know that she didn’t have a choice, and she had made the decision all on her own. Now she found herself wholly loyal to Salsoa.

Her eyes flicked to peer at the rushing waters, the strange backward tide of the Pictou. She still didn’t understand it completely and atoned that the river worked by some kind of divine magic. The days had become shorter and colder, and the water with it. She would have liked to wade out into the river but she got a chill just thinking about it, so instead she amused herself by dipping her fingertips into the frothy current.

How glorious it would be… if all the Russos were here…

Image from Englaender. Table code by the Mentors!

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