for blood and whiskey.

Rurik Russo · 01-26-2010, 07:50 AM

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Quartz Shoreline.

The silver-furred werewolf had traveled the coast today, giving the pack he knew to be Phoenix Valley a wide berth. He did not wish to accidentally cross their territory and anger one of those wolves—he might have been friendly enough with Jantus, but he did not want to anger his band of people. Though they certainly sounded fearsome, he assumed he'd be perfectly safe if he remained on their good side, and Rurik was interested in remaining on everyone's good side; he did not want to end up on the wrong side of anything. By his calculations there was no point in making war; protection and self-defense were one thing, but the Russian werewolf did not wish to engage anyone violently unless there was dire need.

Though it was winter, today had brought a rather warm day to the lands; the silver-furred werewolf was quite glad for this. Sometimes he almost wished he enjoyed the taste of fish—today would be a lovely day to spend on the beach, wasting it away trying to catch a fish or two. However, Rurik knew such a catch would simply be wasted; he would not eat fish and he damn well knew it. He'd been forced enough times in his life so that the very thought of it made his stomach turn, though there had been nothing to be done over it in his youth. Zinoviya had absolute control over the dinner table and what went on it, so he'd had no choice.

The pale-furred wolf meandered along the rocky beach, hunkered down against the wind. It was not so cold, but the chill off of the ocean still nipped at his fur. He leaned back against a rock, scuttling backwards to sit on it, his tail curled about his hip. Leaning an elbow against his knee, he contemplated the current affairs of things. He'd checked out Cour des Miracles the other day, and while it was quite a nice place and he rather enjoyed Strelein's company, he wasn't so sure about the distance between himself and Inferni. He certainly believed Silas was safe under Gabriel's care; after all, the tawny-furred Aquila had done nothing but evince concern regarding his own children. The Russian sighed, digging a toe into the cold sand. There was a rather dreary quality to today, Rurik thought. Good company would certainly brighten it up a bit, but it wouldn't seem there was any to be had at the moment, so he remained where he was, contemplating life and other such important things.

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