the days they come but the years they go.

Rurik Russo · 05-11-2010, 04:51 AM

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The silver-furred werewolf enjoyed reflecting on the past, though he did not dwell on it too harshly. Most of what had gone on during the course of his life was quickly forgotten, lost in the haze of alcohol and new memories. Some things stuck with him harder than others, however, and the cloud-colored male could not possibly forget. Kiska was one of those very rare things, and with her was the burden of not taking his children home to meet their family. Zinoviya might never forgive him for that one.

He contemplated the pallid wolf's question, tilting his head to the side and playing with the dark tuft of fur on his chin, as was habitual when Rurik thought of these things. “Ohh... I zhink so,” he said, taking the notion rather serious. “I arrive... sheeeet,” he said, laughing as he realized just how long ago it was. “In winter, six years ago. I come and go, but I zhink in the spring of that year, I was here in Aremys,” he said. “Maybe. It is hard to remember exact time,” he said, tapping his head. Tilting the bottle up to his lips, the man shrugged his broad shoulders. “Too much of zhis, maybe.”

“But for sailing... ah,” the werewolf said. A different smile crossed his face, enveloping less of his sharply featured face. He was reminiscing about the open ocean—it wasn't calling him back yet, true, but he could always think of her fondly. “Not'eeng but open ocean around you, the sky and vater. You vant to see the vorld, I take you,” the werewolf said. “I go home to Sobirat'sya eventually. You vant see other side of vorld, come along,” the man offered. It was a sincere offer—the boat he had come over here with was still stowed safely away, and though it was a small vessel, they could accomodate at least four more crew with Rurik, Liliya, Silas, and Anatoliy. Perhaps they wouldn't come home, though—that had entered Rurik's mind a few times before, and he had decided it was alright. His children were old enough to make their own way in the world, and eventually home would come calling to them again.

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