I GOT A KUPOST YAYAYAYA
The silver-shaded werewolf knew the allure of the open world; he had hardly explored even a fiftieth of its vast lands, let alone the oceans wide. Rurik held no notion of sailing around the world or even seeing the whole damn thing—it would take more lifetimes than he had left to do such a thing, and it was far too late even in this life to undertake such an endeavor. Even so, it was alright—he knew which places mattered most. Sobirat'sya would always be home, and it would always wait for him there. He needn't worry about that place going anywhere. This one, on the other hand, had nearly burned to the ground, and with it had gone all visible traces of the life he'd once lived here, that life with Syemv and Aremys. The silvery werewolf could hardly miss it, however—it seemed almost a different life now.
“Oh no. Zhe packs are very nice, though,” he said, smiling. He only knew Cour des Miracles remotely well, however—he'd met a few Aniwayans and a few of Cour des Miracles and Phoenix Valley, but thus far he'd had little interaction with Dahlia de Mai. “Well, most of them. I am sorry about your war,” he added, frowning. “I worry for Silas, you know?” he added, taking another sip of the flask and setting it in between them again. He could no more prevent Silas from doing what he wanted than he could move a boulder, however—such things were simply impossible. “Zhis place does not make you happy?” he asked, frowning at her. Thick-skulled as he was, even Rurik could sense the discontent hanging about the tawny-furred woman.
.rurikgiftmarit b {color:#85d2dd;}
.giftmaritliliya {font-weight:bold; color:#002961;}
.rurikgiftmarit p {text-indent:25px; margin:0px; padding:0px;}
</style>
[/html]