Down by the Sea

Anatoliy Russo · 03-14-2010, 10:45 PM

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For the Ehno boy, lets get this one goiiiing

Things had been going swimmingly for the Russo, despite having been uprooted from his continent to a foreign one. He had found his family and made new acquaintances, but he did not have any real friends just yet. Everyone seemed pleasant but it still felt strange to be meeting so many strangers that did not share his blood. Back in Russia, most of the people he knew were the people who were part of his enormous family tree. And even here, he knew his father and sister better than any other creature. It did not help that he was not part of a pack or tribe or clan, but his own general lackluster at visiting people he barely knew that were out of the way did not help either.

Anatoliy sat by the water's edge, the sea still a churning beast. Somehow he had crossed over here; he wondered how the ship had survived against something so wild and savage. Sighing, the earthen-toned male gentle picked up the hook attached to the fishing line. A wriggling worm was impaled on the metallic hook, still moving even after the jagged edge protruded from its soft flesh. Making sure the line was properly attached to the reel on the fishing pole, the Russian cast it into the water, feeling it move in his hands from the rough ocean. More and more of the line went off the reel, in hopes of it going into deeper, calmer waters where the fish were sure to lurk.

Rurik had had enough of fish, having been raised on them and eating them when aboard his ship. But Anatoliy still enjoyed the animal, knowing how to avoid the bones and getting all the delicious meat out. The women in his family taught him how to spice it before cooking to accentuate the flavor. The Russian's skills were so varied in this regard, that he did not know where his specialties lay. Oh well, he could just be a jack of all trades, since that seemed more useful than having specialized in something. The pole in his hands jerked, as though a fish were on the line, but it ceased almost immediately. The sea was rough today; the fishing might take a long time. As long as there was something to bring home to his sister, Anatoliy would be content.

Ehno Marino · 03-18-2010, 02:22 AM

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458

Yet again, Ehno found himself drawn to the ocean. There were times when it seemed that the ebb and flow of the tides had cast some sort of spell on him, allowing him to roam the dry lands for a time only to pull him back closer and closer to the water’s edge once he had ventured as far as it would allow. It was like clockwork, like the rhythmic dance of the tides. It certainly wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that the adventurous man held a connection to the seas, and surely the whole lot of the Marino siblings had a kinship with the enigmatic waters. The way the ocean safely delivered the three Italians across its vast surface to the lands of Nova Scotia no doubt revealed that it was watching out for them.

The man drifted along near the water’s edge with a lazy gait, his well-worn travelling bag slung easily over his shoulder. There was a look of contentment on his features as he traveled, enjoying the sounds of the rough waves pushing against each other. He let his thoughts wander as freely as his feet, and he soon found himself thinking about the new little nieces and nephews that he would soon be meeting back home. The news that Savina and Kansas would soon be having another litter came as quite the surprise, but it was a wholly pleasant one. Excitement welled up within his chest at the thought of the new little souls joining their steadily growing family. For so long, it had only been Ehno and his sisters, but now their family seemed to be growing to a size he scarcely could have imagined just a year before.

His focus on such pleasant thoughts was gently pulled away when another scent drifted toward him, mixing with the salty smell of the sea. There was no familiarity in the scent—a total stranger perhaps out to enjoy the fine weather and sights and sounds of the sea. Ehno perked up a bit, amber gaze scanning the horizon briefly before spotting the stranger farther down along the coast, sitting beside the water. His lazy stride became livelier at the prospect of meeting another sea-loving soul. As he approached, it became clear that the stranger had settled down to do some fishing, a sport that Ehno had touched upon during his time in one of Spain’s lively port towns. The Marino slowed his pace to a halt a few paces away from the stranger, studying him, the fishing rod, and the tossing waters for a mere moment. “It doesn’t look like the water’s too eager to give up its fish today,” he commented, his usual friendly smile plastered on his maw.

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Anatoliy Russo · 03-28-2010, 12:14 AM

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Table by Sie

300+ Sorry for the delay and it also sounds really dirty >>

The rod kept jerking in his hands, the sea fighting his strong grip far more than a fish on the line. Anatoliy bit his lip a bit as he tugged hard to keep the pole in his control. The line buzzed and hummed despite a strong paw keeping the reel as still as possible, but it was mostly futile; the sea was far, far too strong to fish properly. But he was a Russo; fishing was in his blood and to admit defeat now was to be a weak Russo. It would need to be far longer for him to claim to have failed. All he could do was bite the inside of his cheek and struggle with the ocean to get a fish or two for his sister and him. Rurik did not like fish, so the man's son never bothered to fish for his father.

It seemed as though the Russo had struggled enough for this particular piece of bait to lure a fish from the depths. Finally, he pulled up the line, noticing the struggling worm that had once been there was now gone. Crying out in exasperation, he fumbled with the hook to jab another squirming creature onto the sharp points. With a grunt he forced the line back out, as far as the Russian could possibly send it. He gave a silent prayer of thanks for the muscles he had developed. Back home, he would have given up long ago, even though he had been decently built back then too.

A few sentences of words came from behind him over the crash of the sea, sending the male's back into rigidity and his larger ears perked up instantly. Anatoliy's upper torso twisted to let his golden eyes gaze at the stranger that had approached him. Eying him up and down, observing for a possible threat before turning back to the mistress that governed his family back home. "I will win. She is just playful, but she will give me the fish," he said plainly, his accent thickly coated the simple words. Anatoliy let go of the rod briefly to pat the ground beside him without turning to look at the stranger. "Please, sit." The hand raced back to the pole as it almost flew out of his solitary hand. The sea was being ferocious that day. "Who are you?"

Ehno Marino · 04-18-2010, 09:53 PM

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I'm sorry that I'm perpetually late. ._. 336

Fishing wasn’t a skill the Marino had much expertise in, despite being a man of the sea. Most of his attempts back in Europe had resulted mainly in failure, though he did have a few shining moments of victory when he finally managed to pull a fish from the watery depths. Ehno simply hadn’t been very adept at wielding the fishing rod, haphazardly swinging it about each time he tried to cast out the line. Despite the failures, he remembered his attempts at fishing were rather fun times, often enjoying a laugh at his own expense with the friendly faces on Santander’s bustling docks. Ehno simply preferred getting his meals through hunting on good old dry land. He was more likely to catch something that way.

That said, Ehno held some respect for the stranger before him. He may not have had any luck so far, but certainly didn’t look like he was ready to give up and set aside the fishing rod any time soon. The fact that the young man had even bothered to keep trying his hand at the sport despite the roiling waters revealed that he was either stubbornly determined or confident in his skill. Perhaps both? Regardless, it was rather endearing, and certainly intriguing. The Italian man grinned at the stranger’s accented comment, nodding his agreement as he stepped closer so that he could sit where beckoned.

He watched as the rod nearly leapt into the ocean as he took a seat, and he let out a short, light hearted laugh. “She will certainly make you earn your fish today,” he said, friendly grin still in place. “I’m Ehno. Ehno Marino,” he introduced. The Dreamer held out his hand for a sociable shake for a moment, but instead settling for a brief nod when he realized that the stranger would probably prefer to keep a hold on his rod before it tried to make an escape again. “And you are…?” he questioned in return, words dancing with his usual Italian lilt.

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