monsters

[Nikolai Russo]

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http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... bottom.png);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;"> Nikolai turned, pointing his duel-colored eyes over her shoulder at her. It was relatively rare that he would stop for some decent conversation, especially for one in this language. Normally, he didn't bother with these people much anymore, or as much as he was able to. It was not that he didn't like them... well, that was pretty much it. They weren't the Russians he was used to. He couldn't find himself becoming accustomed of their ways of life. It was either too simple, or too complicated, these people seemed to live. He could not find someone who spoke actual Russian like he did, but guessed that French might be roaming about just as the English was, but these people were of varying lands. They were not all English, not all Canadian. Nikolai didn't quite understand it, as they were not cartographers like he. "Cannot go back to Russia," he said, turning his eyes to the sea. "Memories. Nowhere to go." He could have gone and found his mother, but he didn't want to be there. He didn't want to be a part of that gypsy crusade any longer; Nikolai never belonged there with his family in the first place, but now as an adult, there was definitely no room left. He was on his own now. "Cercelee," he repeated without looking at her, struggling a little with the name's pronunciation. "I draw maps... I keep them fvor myself." He didn't really know what to do with them... he just enjoyed doing them, and then kept them.

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