Pet Shop Boy [p]

Thorn Russo · 09-23-2012, 11:40 PM

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<3! Just realized in my last post it didn't show what he said in Russian. Thank you for not pointing that out and saying what an idiot I am. -_-;

Thorn adjusted his messenger bag on his foot, the squeakies and tennis balls shifting as he did so. They were just another reminder of home, Vinatta home, where the bare-bones brewery stood. He knew that the day would come when the brewery was finished and so was he, and he knew that there was a very good chance he would see his last days out within these lands. It was a slightly sobering thought, thinking about his last days but Thorn didn't think of them with anger or regret and perhaps that made it a little easier. He couldn't help but wonder if Vlad ever had the same thoughts, she was a lot younger than him and perhaps that meant she had fewer thoughts of death and the end.

When talk turned to Vinatta Thorn was very glad she seemed interested in the pack. He would really, really like to have another Russian nearby if only to speak with on occasion and to keep his mother tongue alive in his mind and supple on his tongue. Perhaps he had been a little pleading in his words but he had intended to sound passionate. "I didn't know if I would join a pack when I came back either. First time I came here my брат and I helped to found a pack of pirates, the first pirates in these lands and most of us were from Russia and Europe. Vinatta has given me the nearest to that, to those days." The white wolf didn't intend for it to be a recruiting speech, he just hadn't had the chance to talk much about those old days. He didn't think many wolves were still around that knew the Syemv pirates and he thought about them so much that he would have gone crazy if he didn't let his memories out occasionally.

Vlad it seemed had a lot of sense, as she explained how she wanted her own path to be different the elder Russo could only nod in understanding. His family had never been the type to demand their children to be certain things and they had never looked down upon him for choosing a life of hedonism and cookery rather than becoming a warrior, he was thankful to have that kind of a relationship but he knew that every family was different. Rubbing the side of his face in thought and toying with his eyebrow piercing he gave a little nod to her words. "My family didn't have business like this, I was still different. I chose to cook, to smoke, to brew, to sew and yet I struggle sometimes to hunt and to fight like many wolves do. I yearned for all this too." He might say kindred spirit if asked but he wouldn't say that out loud, she might take it the wrong way.

WC: 483

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