haunt your halls and walk through walls

[Rurik Russo]

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http://sleepyglow.net/rp/rurik/rurik_tide.jpg);"> <333 I was very upset and ;_____; last night when it was down. But then I went and played Halo and killed lots of dudes and felt a little better. Gah, I cannot remember the old reason Ilya has her name. D: This is what I get for not archiving Rurik threads. /fail     The Russian was impressed with structures that had survived the test of the human's time, even moreso with ones that had existed for hundreds of years before the last human had died. The silvery wolf had seen many modern buildings in Europe that had fallen to total disrepair, and many more intentionally destroyed by the Luperci, burned after being sacked of anything useful to allow the wilderness to take hold there once again. They were wolves, and they did not need nearly as many cities as the humans had. Small villages and cities galore made up much of the European population, but there were, naturally, large pockets of wilderness all throughout the old country, and in these there were many wolves that had retained their ancestors' ways of life, refusing to walk on two legs for any reason whatsoever.     Rurik himself did not miss his two-legged form; he was rather comfortable with opposable thumbs and the ability to manipulate objects, though he did get the rare itch to run as a wolf. That was all it was, though—an exceedingly rare event. The Russian's coal-dipped ears flicked backwards, detecting the approach of another. He wondered if the stranger was heading for them or just passing by, and his attention returned to the younger canine as he spoke and introduced himself. Bowing his head, the Russian grinned a pleased smile. "And you, Gotham," the wolf said, reciprocating the feeling. He didn't often find it easy to relate to children, but this one was bright and cheery, and he was interested in Rurik's sword, a topic the Russian could quite easily relate to. "Aye! Some of them. Ilya is old Russian name, to help give her strength," the Russian explained, still smiling.     It seemed the passerby would join them, so the ash-furred male turned to greet their new companion, though he kept his body angled so he could easy turn his head to speak to either of his companions, wishing to alienate neither of them. "Ghosts, eh? Didn't know there was any of them here," he grinned, unafraid. The Russian had never seen a ghost, but he did believe in spirits—more powerful that ghosts and generally representative of something. He'd invited his Domovoi, the house-spirit, along with him to the boat and now to the motel, and hopefully that act of kindness would keep the Domovoi from being playful or malevolent, as they were jealous things which were easily offended by lack of an invitation. "Dragons usually live in caves, I think—but maybe we'll find a princess ghost here?" the Russian suggested. He was somewhat intrigued by the spiritual side but he preferred to tread lightly; no sense in angering things one didn't understand.

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