There ain't no room in my bed

Vikas Limonchenko · 02-06-2012, 05:16 PM

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OOC:

She walked in, hesitant with her steps. Vikas was doubly so, knowing that his normal gait was a bit like a stomping rhino. He looked around the room, searching for any signs of something valuable. The bigger pieces of furniture were intact, but there were a couple of knocked over chairs and apparently there was some magnetic force between lamps and the floor, as none of them were standing. There was a considerable amount of dust, but it didn't bother him much anymore. His ears perked and his eyes returned to Fleta when she answered him. From the sound of it, the festival was similar to the ones back at home. He assumed it was larger than anything in North Dakota, unless this girl was just easily impressed. "I'll have to check it out later. To be honest you're the first person I've actually talked to since I came here." He spoke absentmindedly, focusing mostly on looking through the debris.

He did look up once again when she left the room, tracking her path with his eyes. She tossed herself onto the sofa, completely relaxed. Vikas gave one more quick look-see in the front room before following lazily to the other room. He poked his nose around corners and looked into other doorways, but did not leave what seemed to be the living room. Had Fleta been a male, Vikas wouldn't have given a shit and would do as he pleased. But, be it sexist or not, Vikas stayed close to stay polite simply because of her gender. That, and she was gorgeous to boot. This room didn't have much to speak for, but there was a pile of stuff that had gathered on the ground from a collapsed bookshelf. The wolf nudged the pile with his foot, sifting through the top layers. There were a few old books, which he flipped through, but they were badly damaged and didn't look interesting anyway. He picked up a watch, but the battery was dead. He tilted it in the sunlight, watching speckles of light play on the walls around him. Entertaining for a second or two, but ultimately worthless. He dropped it and turned his attention instead to the coywolf.

He pulled up an old dining room chair that had been shoved in the corner and set it near the sofa. He swiveled it around and sat backwards on it, his arms resting on the back. "I take it you're a native here, yeah?" he said, his words slurring unnecessarily. His question (or statement, rather) was not entirely pointless. It was just a more polite segue into asking about the nearby packs than him whining about being homeless and looking for a place to stay. And he genuinely did have an interest in learning more about her.

Vikas Limonchenko

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