Hide and Seek, alcohol style

Rurik Russo · 12-28-2009, 11:22 PM

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Shush, you are a dear for dealing with my slow butt. ;____; <3

Rurik would have enjoyed the laid-back attitude of Cour des Miracles. His own home in Sobirat'sya did not think too much of rank, though his grandmother Zinoviya was unquestionably their leader, and she received a great deal of respect, her position was not exactly an alphaship or a monarchy over the rest of the Russo family, for although she held the position of the most respect as the eldest woman of the family, she did not make the decisions regarding their finances, nor did she decide anything based on other clans or families aggressions, if they ever came. Rurik was born into a time of peace, but his grandparents certainly remembered the early years in Sobirat'sya, anarchy reigning supreme over the streets and permeating all folds of their society. There were surreptitious sources of danger, too—Rurik had recalled a story his grandfather told him once, that one of his very cousins had fought on an opposing side of the strife that had crippled the area long before Rurik's parents were even born.

"Cour des Miracles," the Russian repeated, nodding his silvery head and memorizing the words. He'd be sure to check that place out; if the rest of them were as nice as Strel he would have to. "Sounds maybe French to me," the werewolf said with a grin, though he didn't know for certain. It was pronounced strangely, perhaps because it had been filtered through the more Cajun-type dialects of the southern part of the country, and then through Strelein's voice. Strel didn't seem particularly interested in what it meant, and though Rurik was intrigued, he didn't comment further on the pack's name, instead nodding at the other wolf's notice to call at the borders. He'd almost forgotten; the wolves of these lands were generally protective of a whole area as their territory, rather than an individual dwelling as in his homeland. In Sobirat'sya, the Russo family owned a "square" of the city, and they were rather like humans in that the individual homes in the square were off-limits to outsiders without invitation, but the open territory between the houses was open to outsiders passing through for a visit.

"Aye, I'd hope I still got a few good years left in me," the werewolf said with a broad grin. The other canine commented again, but Rurik did not respond, instead letting his smile sit there a little longer instead, expressing agreement and approval of the statement without continuing the conversation. Relieving as it was to admit to another living being that he was attracted to men, it was still an uncomfortable subject for the Russian wolf, and he was glad when the conversation moved onto another subject, the alcohol. Rurik grinned as the other took a sip, immediately launching into a fit of coughing. "Apologies, I shoulda warned you first," the wolf said with a sheepish smile, shaking his head. It was easy for him to forget that others were not so used to drinking liquor. "Sip little bits, slow," the wolf advised. To the question, the werewolf smiled once again, shrugging his shoulders. "I grew up sippin' on this, I guess," he mused, figuring a lifetime of becoming acclimated to liquor had helped him immensely.

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