tear it out of these open pages
#2
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819
sorry I took so long ><; Also do you mind if we backdate it a few days? I don't really want to assume things about having met his family here 8D;;



Even though he were a year old, the young Russo did not feel as though he were inexperienced because of his age. He was big, reaching up to the taller Russians back home, at eight foot one in his optime form. Even in his lupine body he was big and bulky, thanks to the genes his father had given him so freely. Though he was tall in height, he was far more narrow in width, despite being blessed with wide shoulders. Anatoliy was not fat, but he was muscled because of his family's needs. He was built to be a deep sea fisherman, but his skills did not lie there. Oh, Anatoliy could do it if asked, but he felt that even with his larger build, he was not suited to be out on a salty boat pulling in crusty, wet lengths of netting with the dregs of the ocean mixing with the food of the sea they hunted. Sometimes, he felt awkward at his own size, aware at how he towered over so many females in his clan, though most men were around his height or in a relatively close proximity to it so that it would not be odd to talk down to them. But then again, the Russo did not mind his women being smaller than him. More cuddly that way. Anatoliy had heard some things from his family - most of it, admittedly, was not to his face - that his parents were promiscuous. Questioning it, he asked his mother but she did not admit a thing to him. Well, all he needed to know was that he himself was more dedicated than whatever accusations were given about his mother and father.


Anatoliy was driven to go hunt for a meal for himself. There was food in the city, sure, but nothing compared to the wild game of the woods. Sometimes, back in Russia, some of the men and women would go on a hunt outside of the village for fun and actual meat. There were domesticated animals but there was something about killing wild beasts to feed the family. Then they had caught several rabbits and a deer, but the majority of it was all gone that evening. Now, the Russo wanted to taste the free range meat that would satisfy his craving for something substantial to feed a bear of a young man. He wandered around the forest outside of Halifax, careful to stay in a distance of it where he could get back easily. Seeing as it was January, there was not too much to be found aside from the regular animals that did not hibernate. He certainly did not see a deer to kill, nor could he alone. He was big, but not that big, or stupid. Even in his heftier middle form, Anatoliy could not take down something that big with ease. What he did catch though, was enough to satisfy the growls in his belly.


A fire had been started in a clearing, in a small pit that had been dug out and lined with large stones. In a make-shift rotisserie spit, the man had roasted two rabbits, skinny as they were, over the flames and smoke. Every now and then, the earthen-hued male would rotate the dead creatures over the flame and then return to cleaning the third rabbit of it's fur and skin. Those roasting over the fire were almost done, having turned brown and were slowly getting darker the longer they stayed over the heat. However, the scent of them cooking was only meat thrown lazily to cook instead of properly marinated or rubbed with spice. There had been no herbs to use in the woods, for everything was dead now. Resting on having only a scented type of wood to burn beneath the food, the Russo simply sighed, missing the stores of dried herbs back home. They made things like this more delicious, even if they had no need to eat them cooked. It was eaten for good taste, not only for filling hungering bellies.


Somewhere, something cracked, and the Russian twisted his head in the source. A figure moved in the distance, though there did not seem to be a slinking motion to the way it moved. Whoever it was did not seem to be in the mood to attack the Russian crouching over his kill. Beside, they would have a hard time attacking him and taking him down. Gentle giant he might be, but passive he was not in times of fighting. Crying out in his oddly tenor voice to the stranger, Anatoliy greeted whoever it was with an accented English call, "Haillo?" The Russo wondered how they would converse should the stranger approach. The amount of the native language the young man knew was limited, but hopefully it would be enough to get his point across with pantomime included in the mix.
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