03-21-2010, 11:32 PM
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Table by Alli
500+ I realized I was making him a little bit too good of an English speaker. Whoops.
Anatoliy nodded absently, recalling with a weak grin his failure to comprehend where it was he slept. "I feel asleep on the boat night before, and woke in the middle of the sea between north and middle Europa," The Russian inserted some of his own native language, his slow control on the language weakening. It always happened; the longer he spoke the worse the grammar and word choice became. A pause would let him think about things, or else he would simply talk a bit slowly, the words coming out as though he had tasted each one fully. Hopefully Nayati understood how difficult it was, but it seemed as though the AniWaya man was definitely an understanding person.
"But I am not here alone." Anatoliy pointed in the direction he assumed was toward Halifax. In reality, he was probably pointing too far to the north. "On the ship, I worked. They drop me off here. I find my father and sister and brother in the city." Then, laughing, he added, "Was an accident, too." He had, more or less, walked into Rurik and Liliya carrying home a large herbivore's carcass. Later, they had met Silas in the hotel they now lived at (Well, actually, Anatoliy met him, since the other two had come over here with him). "Maybe have not because have no need? Back home, we fish to feed everybody. In more south west Europa, they use ships to trade in other places," he explained, wondering what the people here did with their boats. Surely they put them to good use instead of letting them rot in the moist weather.
There was a war going on, but it seemed as though this tribe did not participate in the violence. It would not really need to, would it, considering it was the furthest from the others. The outlook on life might have influenced their part too. Peace was a good thing, and all the more kudos to the AniWaya, but it seemed hard to live like that for too long. Nature was in constant conflict, but it was still a very noble desire. Anatoliy had seen the way some had fought, bickered, and yelled back home and on the ship, and was thankful for his much more mellow mood. If there was about to be a fight, it was most likely not this Russo. Very little would force him to fight; honor and rescue were a couple of the few, few things that could possibly motivate him.
"What if you do not find the guide? Then what? Is it a fail?" questioned the earthen-toned male, eyebrows furrowing as the questions in his head doubled. It was still a very strange notion, and the concept of everyone having a spirit guide was something he could only grasp the edges of. "How do you know when you find it? Does it talk to you? Only thing I ever hear of is voices in head, but person did use drugs. Ah, mushrooms?" Anatoliy laughed a bit, remembering his relative moving around in a rather jerking manner, as though muscles were having mild spasms, all while they giggled or cooed at what they saw. "How did you get your guide?"
Anatoliy nodded absently, recalling with a weak grin his failure to comprehend where it was he slept. "I feel asleep on the boat night before, and woke in the middle of the sea between north and middle Europa," The Russian inserted some of his own native language, his slow control on the language weakening. It always happened; the longer he spoke the worse the grammar and word choice became. A pause would let him think about things, or else he would simply talk a bit slowly, the words coming out as though he had tasted each one fully. Hopefully Nayati understood how difficult it was, but it seemed as though the AniWaya man was definitely an understanding person.
"But I am not here alone." Anatoliy pointed in the direction he assumed was toward Halifax. In reality, he was probably pointing too far to the north. "On the ship, I worked. They drop me off here. I find my father and sister and brother in the city." Then, laughing, he added, "Was an accident, too." He had, more or less, walked into Rurik and Liliya carrying home a large herbivore's carcass. Later, they had met Silas in the hotel they now lived at (Well, actually, Anatoliy met him, since the other two had come over here with him). "Maybe have not because have no need? Back home, we fish to feed everybody. In more south west Europa, they use ships to trade in other places," he explained, wondering what the people here did with their boats. Surely they put them to good use instead of letting them rot in the moist weather.
There was a war going on, but it seemed as though this tribe did not participate in the violence. It would not really need to, would it, considering it was the furthest from the others. The outlook on life might have influenced their part too. Peace was a good thing, and all the more kudos to the AniWaya, but it seemed hard to live like that for too long. Nature was in constant conflict, but it was still a very noble desire. Anatoliy had seen the way some had fought, bickered, and yelled back home and on the ship, and was thankful for his much more mellow mood. If there was about to be a fight, it was most likely not this Russo. Very little would force him to fight; honor and rescue were a couple of the few, few things that could possibly motivate him.
"What if you do not find the guide? Then what? Is it a fail?" questioned the earthen-toned male, eyebrows furrowing as the questions in his head doubled. It was still a very strange notion, and the concept of everyone having a spirit guide was something he could only grasp the edges of. "How do you know when you find it? Does it talk to you? Only thing I ever hear of is voices in head, but person did use drugs. Ah, mushrooms?" Anatoliy laughed a bit, remembering his relative moving around in a rather jerking manner, as though muscles were having mild spasms, all while they giggled or cooed at what they saw. "How did you get your guide?"