Fish fry!
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Word Count :: 500+ For Denver! If you still wanted to thread, I know I started this a day or two after your reply to my request. Borgata Colotl, near the shore, night of Oct 11. Liliya is in Optime.


Evening had fallen upon Salsoa and with the fading light came the end of her work day. She had invested every waking hour over the last week to the project she’d personally elected to complete. If one thing made her happy it was the sea, so as soon as she heard rumor that the leaders would appreciate a dock and boat and that there was a section of the coast she – as a low ranking Salsoan – was permitted to enter, she jumped at the chance. She wasn’t sure if any of the leadership knew about her task yet, and she almost hoped to keep it that way. It would be a nice surprise to the Dark Lady and the others when she had a nice platform dock built… But a boat… Well, she’d used the rubble from her boat on the dock, and it took a lot of work to shape the hull.

“Eh, I vill vorry about that vhen it comes time,” she muttered to herself. It was a time that might be far off and she hoped that she would have more resources by then. Building the dock was slow business for one slight, inexperienced woman like herself. And now with her recent hand injury it would probably take even longer.

Her eyes flicked to her wrapped hand and she could see rusty spots where blood soaked through. It was a superficial wound, really, but still hurt like hell the way it was so awkwardly drawn across her palm. This would certainly put a damper on carrying and manipulating lumber. “Eh, I vill worry about that when it is time, too.” She repeated to herself with a smile, snickering softly in amusement. Now wasn’t time to be concerned with these things – now was time for some real relaxation.

Letting out a deep, curative breath, Liliya leaned back against a large stone that time had carried from the midst of the ruins out to the shore. A sturdy wind tugged at her hair so she gathered it up in her fist and re-tied her bandana over it to try to keep the annoyance at bay. Either way, it didn’t irritate her too much – the sea winds could do whatever they wanted to the Russian.

Her stormy eyes flicked to the pole that was stabbed halfway into the ground. The bells tied to the end constantly jingled thanks to the breeze so she would have to watch for a bite. No matter, in no time at all she knew she would have a plump fish for dinner. The freshest seafood was always the best; the thought made her mouth water.

“Best to be prepared for vhen the fish do bite, Liliya,” she said to herself and got up from her spot. She began arranging the dry kindling she’d brought with her to make a cook’s fire. First she piled old vines and brush to start the blaze with, and above that she stacked the twigs and small branches in a pyramid shape, but when she reached to her supplies she realized she didn’t have anything to start the fire with. “Damn…” she sighed as she realized she would have to go back to the ruins if she wanted to cook the fish.

Image courtesy of mnshots@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#2
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Big Grin


The common smirk on his face had only grown wider when he had learned of his ascent in the ranks. Denver had been waiting for this; after all, he had killed a man for the Salsolan Boss and his Crone. For the recent supper, he'd even offered a fat doe he'd lassoed and wrangled himself. He was out of practice, so it still took quite some effort from the short mutt. He'd since recovered from the exertion, of course, and was practicing his skills daily. Despite his attempts to abandon his roots, it seemed that at least this skill was proving useful.


This evening, though, he'd decided to take a break from his practice; after all, he'd been exercising all morning. Denver paused before crossing through the ruins, briefly considering finding Maggie to celebrate their rise, but he considered the time and figured he would catch her soon enough earlier in the next day or two. With a long stretch he rose, draping his lasso across his body comfortably, just in case. He did not anticipate much trouble, though, and only desired to get out of his musty rubble home and breathe some fresher air.


The newly inducted member of the Family strode along at an easy pace towards the shore, the salty air compelling him. He thought he caught a whiff of another scent as the darkening beach came into view, and as the landscape opened up, he was sure he was right. The shape of a woman moved about ahead of him, and though his pace did not quicken, he moved towards her to investigate.


Upon his approach, he observed kindling and wood set for a fire, but no flame, and a pole stuck in the ground with a line out into the waving sea. Someone was about to eat. At the thought of fresh cooked fish, his mouth began to water, and he licked his lips hungrily. He had yet to eat breakfast. Denver held his head higher than normal as he approached, giving the earthy gypsy-looking woman an easy smile, his eyes scouring her in appraisal. "Evenin'," he called as he shrugged the lasso off of his shoulders and set it atop a conveniently placed boulder. "You catch anything yet?" Maybe she would share. He hadn't seen this one before, either; perhaps she was new. That sense of newly acquired power pulsed through his veins, and he wondered how far he could push it.


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#3
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Word Count :: 400+


Just as she was mourning her stupid mistake she caught sight of a shadow moving in the periphery. With a raised eyebrow she turned to meet the sight of the creamy, curly man. Well, if he wasn’t an interesting sight… She made no attempt to hide her first survey as her grey eyes looked the man over. She noted the rope he carried meaningfully, the bent ears that was one of the prominent traits of his dog heritage, but most of all she noted the curly wave to his fur. She couldn’t help but crack a smile, the seawater making the kink in the man’s already wavy fur more noticeable. Her amusement faded though when her eyes met his face and she saw that cocky grin – a grin she wish she could sport around here, but with just about everyone above her in rank it would be wiped off her face in a heartbeat.

The thought also made her presume the man, just like the others, was at least a step above herself. What made it worse was the fact that from this angle he appeared to be short. She didn’t feel like trying to posture properly to someone who was shorter than her, so she stayed crouching on the ground. Not everyone is out to get you, Liliya. You’ve just got to put up with it for now and work harder… It will pay off like it did for them.

“Hello,” she said as soon as she was certain that the man was here to stay. The rope made a plopping sound when he dropped it down on the boulder. Her attention turned to the fishing pole, the bells at the top a consistent low jingle. She looked back and shook her head. “No feesh is biting yet. But it vill not be longk now.” She hoped she was right, that the fish would bite here at all. If it was like Liliya guessed, she’d be needing more than one catch this evening.

“But I have another problem,” she motioned to the kindling. “I have no flint, no steel, and is too windy to light the fire the old vhay, with sticks.”

A smile came to her muzzle as she realized a way of circumventing the order she was sure would come, and possibly sneaking her way onto the man’s good side. “Perhaps you have some fire makingk tool? I vhould gladly make you a feesh in return, for savingk me the trouble of going back to the ruins for fire.”

Image courtesy of mnshots@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#4
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short, sorry! <3


Denver was glad to see her remain crouched; even from her seated position, he could tell that she would be taller than him. It annoyed him to have to speak upward; it was embarrassing, and hardly a powerful position. Her voice was strongly accented but he understood it without struggle; he'd heard many tongues in his travels, though he only spoke one. "Hmm," he grumbled, frowning when she said that there were no fish yet-- how long had she been there? The Family member looked to the sea, the moon's reflection bright on water; it was late. His ears perked at the sound of the bells, following their trail back to the fishing pole and it's owner, who was speaking again.


The mutt stared for a moment at the kindling sitting unburned, the offer of fresh-cooked fish surely tempting. "Oh..." A fire-making tool? He grinned at her foreign wording before fumbling through each pocket on his pants and jacket. "Lemme see here," he muttered as he searched. If that was all she wanted in exchange for a free meal, he would certainly oblige. He started to panic when his pockets turned out empty, but then reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and found just what he sought. He held up the plastic lighter, shaking it to be sure it still held fuel. Holding it made him want a cigarette, but he'd yet to find a good source of those around here yet. "Here," he said, moving forward to hand it to her, without even thinking that she might not know how to use it. "Hope it still works."


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#5
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Word Count :: 500+ Nothing wrong with short when it’s good!


One wasn’t raised in the brothels of Russia around swarthy, questionable men without learning how to operate a lighter. She perked up when she saw the instrument, a broad smile brightening her face. Liliya nodded graciously as she took the tool from him, her fingers automatically wrapping around the item just as they should go. “Sank you.” She reached out to the kindling, cupping one hand around the lighter to protect it from the wind and flicking her thumb. A spark lit the air but the flame didn’t catch, so she tried again, and again. “Baah!” She grumbled at it and shook the lighter just as Denver had before. Yep, there was fluid in it but her slender hand wasn’t blocking the breeze well enough to allow the flame to thrive.

Just then the bells erupted in a cacophony of tinkling and chiming. Her ears perked and she jumped to her feet. ”Here, you make fire!” The lighter made an arc in the air as it popped out of her hand with a flick of the wrist and soared back toward Denver. If he couldn’t get it, well, the fire could wait. The fish? No, it just might slip off the line any moment.

“Woah!” she yelped as her hands shot out and grabbed the pole. The wood was bent over in a dramatic arch. Her gray eyes were wide with a rarely displayed mirth as she wrapped a firm grip around the pole and tugged back on the line. This one was a fighter! A laugh of pure glee pierced the night, trilling above the gentle calm of the bayside waves. She worked to pull the creature to land, drawing the line in hand over hand since her home made pole didn’t have a reel. The line slipped a few times and it was a careful wager between Luperci and beast for a moment, but before long Liliya’s expertise won over the fish and she hauled the flopping creature out of the water.

“Ah ha!” She exclaimed triumphantly as she hoisted the fish into the air. The creature struggled at the end of the line but Liliya held her arm steady, and soon the only movement from the thing was the occasional puffing of the gills. She inspected it, then held it out so Denver could see. It was almost as long as her own torso. “Is cod! Has to be about…” she pumped her arm, testing the weight, ”12, 13 fund at least! Not bad for inshore catch. The Salsoan sea is ripe for pickingk!”

She moved over to the rock she’d been leaning on before and, taking the fish by the tail, slapped it down hard against the rock. There was a crunch, and every movement after that was nothing more than muscle reflex. “Normally I not do that, heads good for soup makingk but I am not thinkingk I vhill make soup before it spoils. Poison pack? Not good. No. I vhill not.”

Leaving the fish there, she went to retrieve the knife from her bag. On her way past Denver she nudged him on the shoulder. “The sea, I think she likes you, eh? Not single feesh bitingk until you come around. How about the fire, eh, she like you too?” She chuckled merrily as she grabbed the knife and began scaling the fish.


Image courtesy of 24730945@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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:3


His hands were on his hips as he watched her with a steady gaze as she struggled with the flame. Light brown eyebrows lowered with impatience as she flicked the tool several times without ignition. Suddenly, the chiming of bells rang in his ears and he straightened quickly, startled by the sound. It was only the fishing pole, struggling against the weight of a seemingly large fish. Stunned, Denver's gaze shot back to her just in time to catch the lighter flying at his face. Baffled, he blinked and watched as she got to work, impressed by her strength and agility. Bending down, he fussed with the lighter's fickle flame as she wrestled with the water-dweller.


The ivory mutt was growling with impatience when the spark finally caught on the kindling. At the same time, the Russian woman had managed to haul the writhing creature from the water, holding it's bulky weight up by the line. Again, she had impressed him. Denver wondered if he could reel in a fish like that, with just his hands. 'Course I can, he thought with a snort of laughter, rising from the slowly-growing flames to inspect her catch. "That's a big fish," he commented simply with a grin, his eyes wide with excitement at the prospect of eating such fresh meat.


The crunch as the fish died was sickening, and Denver cringed. His tongue pressed against his teeth at the thought of fish heads floating in a soup; it sounded truly gross, but he said nothing, only nodding a vaguely stunned response. As the gypsy-woman passed him, she gave him a nudge. Glancing up to her, his pale eyes narrowed, his open mouth closing and forming a thin, growing smile. He glanced to the sea as she knelt for her bag. "Oh, maybe she does. Didn't know we were on good terms again," he said with a short chuckle, kneeling beside the fire again to fan it's flame, poking and prodding the kindling about to get it really burning. "I think the fire likes me more," he admitted.


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#7
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Word Count :: 500+Sorry for the long pause, I was on vacation last weekend and been working on getting back into the ‘Souls swing in the midst of my busy work week.


The fish was free of its scales in little time thanks to her trained hand. A few simple strokes with the knife down each flank rid the creature of most of its protective layer, and one more pass over the skin made sure there weren’t any hard ridges left to catch in their teeth. She moved on to removing the head, and then the fins, taking time to glance at Denver and the budding fire. The orange flames danced in her gray eyes, making them appear to glow in the evening darkness. “Ah, is good, good fire. Not too big now or feesh vhill burn. Like that is nice.” She nodded and gestured with the hand that was holding her work knife before grabbing the fish head in her other hand. She looked at it for a moment, “It might make nice ornament, but it vhill smell. Better to feed the feesh so we can have great catch later.” And with that she chucked the head back into the bay.

Once it disappeared into the waves with a satisfying splash she started flaying thick strips off meat from bone. “On good terms again?” she asked, catching the meaning behind his words and raising a brow. Her hands worked carefully careful around the rib meat, trying to get as little bone in the meat as she could. Luperci teeth could easily pulverize fish bones but still it was not always a pleasant surprise in your meal. “Vhat are you, a sailor perhaps? Vhy is it ‘on good terms again’? You have story about the sea?”

Her eyes remained trained on the work before her, and she tried to keep her voice monotone but a trained ear could probably detect her deep curiosity. Perhaps the man would tell her his story? Usually good food and a relaxing campfire were enough to bring out people’s more generous nature.

The warmth from the fire had spread now and she could feet the gentle heat on her body. The fish was all cleaned and cut, now they just had to let the flames do their work. Luckily, fish meat didn’t take long to cook.

“I do not have pan to fry with, so we vhill be havingk smoked cod,” she said as she wrapped a few flays around a couple long poles and affixed them with twine. “Cannot let it get too close to fire or string vhill break and then the fish is a gonner. But it vhill smoke quickly.” She moved next to Denver and settled down in the sand next to the fire and angled the rods over the flames, holding them in each hand. There was a good helping of fish affixed to each one, and she held it just high enough for the flames to warm the meat while the smoke flavored it.

“One day I vhill find fryingk pan and vhill make amazingk food. But for now, this is not usually so bad. My father taught me how to do this,” she sighed dreamily as the scent of the sizzling fish brought back warm memories of the time spent with her father. Her eyes fell from watching the campfire to stare sadly at the sand. “I miss him.”


Image courtesy of 24730945@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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<3 no problem at all!


Denver was watching the fire closely where he sat, and when the Russian woman warned him not to make it too large, he sat back to let it be. Pale eyes stared into the flames, enjoying the warmth. Floppy ear twitched at the sound of the splash, and his head turned instinctively to look, despite knowing it was just the gross fish head she'd tossed. He nodded in agreement, hoping that she would indeed catch many more fish this evening. She was skilled at this, he could tell, and was glad to be able to enjoy a prepared meal. Denver knew, of course, how to toss a hunk of meat over a fire, but little more than that. Most of the time, he chose to ate smaller, more frequent meals to avoid having to go into any of the messy details of larger game.


He couldn't help but chuckle at her suggestion, glancing towards her as she deftly fileted the meat. Him, a sailor? Oh, no. He was far too comfortable on land to spend any unnecessary length of time on or in the water. "No, definitely not a sailor," he said with a laugh. "I just, er..." he paused, the words catching in his throat. He shook his head. "I can't swim too well, that's all," he said with a shrug. He wouldn't admit that the water made him anxious and nervous, or that it was one of his few weaknesses. Instead, he stared at the flames, prodding a log back into place with his foot.


The doggish Family member observed in silence as she prepared the fish and set it over the fire, listening too as she spoke of it's preparation. Denver loved the taste of smoked foods, and licked his lips at the thought. "Smoked is just fine by me." As she sat beside him, Denver studied the meat as it began to smoke, the scent filling his nostrils and making him salivate hungrily.


Her father, she mentioned, and his pale gaze flickered to her, watching as he face fell, full of sadness. Denver didn't know her name, he realized, and couldn't really sympathize with her either. Once, he had been close with his parents. But they had betrayed him; his sisters were more loved. He didn't think about them anymore. "I'm sorry," he said, unsure, "where is he?"


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#9
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Word Count :: 500+


She was a little disappointed to hear that he wasn't a seaman. For a moment the night looked promising and Liliya hoped that they could sit by the fire and spin the yarn, sharing stories of the sea until the morning light dawned on the horizon. Instead, the man's mention was only to say that he wasn't a good swimmer. “You might be getting surprised at how many sailors can not swim. Is not sailor that has to swim, is boat that needs to sail. The whale breathes air but still if he is beached, he dies. If sailor can swim but sailor falls over board, he still dies, too.” Still, not just any man was cut out for sailing, and Liliya knew it. Despite her seafaring days she was still barely experienced when it came to the sea. It didn't mean she couldn't love it, though.

Her eyes studied the meat as it sizzled, and the sweet smoky scent of cooking fish began to command the air around them. It was nice... but still she found her vision focusing on the flames beyond the meat as she delved into memory of her father. “I don't know,” there was shame in her voice, and her head drooped when she admitted it, as though it was the first time she had admitted it to herself. “He was the one who taught me how to sail. We came here together for the first time, from Rus. Russia, I am meaningk. We came here to live and for a long time we lived in the south, in Cour des Miracles.”

She paused, remembering those days. “This was long ago. I was very stupid. We lived together happily for long time, until this boy came. He caused all sorts of trouble...” The gray visage of the Takekuro man clouded her vision, and for a moment she thought she saw the mohawked hunter's silhouette in the flames. She had fled the Court after an impromptu tryst with the man. That was when... “I left the pack to go back to Russia and find my mother. I haven't seen him since.”

She kept her face averted, trying to hide her weakness from him, but it was clear by the thickness of her voice and the sparkling of her eyes that she missed her father dearly. She never knew what had become of him, and now her chance to search for him and seal that hole in her soul had slipped away. She took in a deep breath, letting a long, drawn out pause hang in the air for quite a while.

“Anyway...” She said, trying to lighten up. “He is vhere I get my name from – Russo. Iliya Rurik Russo is him, though he is known mostly as Rurik. I am Liliya. Russo is proud, and useful.” When she finally turned her eyes back to Denver she had gained control of her expression, looking mostly dull again with just a hint of tears left by her eyelids that she could not wipe away thanks to her full hands. It suddenly occurred to her, “I do not know your name.”


Image courtesy of davidesimonetti@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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#10
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durrr denver sucks at conversation. Tongue sorry for this late short post. ><; maybe once he eats he'll stop being so lame.


Denver laughed, albeit a bit nervously, at her words about drowning. He swallowed hard, the mere thought of gasping for air but getting water instead filled him with dread. "Yeah..." he agreed, thinking on it. He preferred to stay dry, and he trusted boats, but now he wasn't sure if he would. One simple carpentry mistake and the whole ship could sink straight down, never to be seen again. Pale eyes turned towards the dark water, the moon's muddled reflection getting brighter with each passing minute. Soon it would be fully dark, and they would have only the moonlight and the firelight. The smell of the fish made his mouth water, and he had nearly tuned out her words when a familiar name drew him back in. Cours des Miracles. Now, what had she been talking about? "I don't know 'bout Russia, but Cours? I lived there, too, before here," he said, all thought of drowning now aside, brows furrowed with interest. "Wish there'da been more dogs," he finished, mumbling.


"Sorry 'bout your dad," he said, averting his gaze after catching hers, noting the moisture in her eyes. He wasn't good at this stuff. "My parents and I weren't that close," was all he offered. The ivory dog nodded at her as she gave her name, explaining it's origin and meaning. He liked the name; it seemed exactly as she described. "Ah, sorry..." he said, shaking his head as he wiped his hands, ready to shake hers. Her hands were full, though, so he rested his on his knees after a moment, not knowing what else to do with them. "I'm Denver. Mathis," he introduced, tagging on his last name rather unceremoniously. "I've been here a few months now; I like it better here." Denver's voice trailed off as he watched the meat brown, hungrily staring at it, his mind clearly preoccupied. He hadn't realized the depth of his hunger until now.


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#11
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Word Count :: 500+


Finally her rambling seemed to strike a familiar vein in the creamy dog and he perked up a little, coming out of a reverie Liliya hadn't noticed when he heard the name of the pack. Her ears perked, too, something inside of her unable to sop the jolt of happiness she felt when she realized they could connect on something. Her tail twitched just ever so slightly as the thought brightened the moment. She nodded, the sadness subsiding and the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes drying. “You are from the Court. No kiddingk?” She said in a gay outburst. “Hey! Is wonderful! We once lived in the same home, and now we do again. Vhat more could make us family, eh?” It was amazing that fate would do that to them, for them. But, Liliya didn't remember this man from before, so maybe they didn't live in the pack at the same time. Still, it was just one more way for fate to connect her to someone around her. And how dearly she wanted to connect...

“It is great hope, that we should be findingk this out,” she professed somewhat unintelligibly as she leaned to inspect the fish. She did notice the man's futile attempt at shaking hands, and she nodded her acknowledgment and understanding. Inspecting the meat, she inhaled deeply and then eyed it. It had a nice sweet scent and a golden crust. She turned to Denver, nodding and waving her hands at him. “Is good! Is perfect, right now, hssst, move.” She waved him away from the fire. Fish was a delicate meat and if it wasn't removed from the heat in time it could burn in half a second. She moved to take the cooking stakes, and the sizzle of the meat slowly died out.

“ah ha! Good job. Is perfect!” Someone might as well have given Liliya a fortune by the way she reacted. But no, this jubilation was only for a couple of successfully cooked fish planks. “Here, friend always eats first. I vhill catch another.” She offered the meat to Denver, urging him to accept it and eat it while it was still fresh and warm.

Leaving the prepared meat to Denver, she prepped another fishing line, baiting the hook and casting it before burying the hilt of the pole in the sand and returning to his side. “So vhen did you live there? Did you know Niro, the little rat. Or maybe you were knowingk my father, Rurik?” There was another pair of fillets from the original catch that still needed cooking, so she got to it.

She sat cross-legged again, holding the poles as she had before to lightly smoked the cod over the fire, but now she was facing Denver with a more genuine smile than before. “How do you like the feesh, Denver Mathis? Is good? It can be better, ja, but is good, no?” She smiled, hoping he would approve of the creation.



Image courtesy of davidesimonetti@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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sorry for the wait! D: <33


"Yeah, yeah!" he agreed, nodding enthusiastically (though most of it was for the fish that he knew was almost ready). "Magnolia's from the Court too, y'know. D'you know her? She lives here, too..." Magnolia was younger than Liliya, as Denver himself was, but perhaps the Russian had met his partner in crime already. Grinning with wide eyes as he watched her inspect the meat, the Family member rubbed his hands together excitedly, nodding at her. The smoky scent of the meat was making him drool, and he licked his lips eagerly, scooting out of her way when instructed.


With a lively flourish, Liliya removed the fish from the flame and passed the meat-on-a-stick to him happily. All of this meat was for him? Her words encouraged him and he took it gladly, letting it sit for a moment before starting to nibble on the soft, warm flesh. "Mmm," he exclaimed audibly as he took larger bites from the fish. He tried to pace himself, but the meat was disappearing quickly as he watched the tawny Russian prepare the fishing pole to catch even more. She had done this a lot, he guessed.


She brought up Cours des Miracles again, and deciding he couldn't escape it, paused in his eating to respond. "It was only for about three months or so, in early spring... April, I'd say," he said after a thought. "Niro's the guy who let me into the Court. I think he's actually Maggie's dad," he mumbled with a shrug, "but he and I weren't ever close or nothin'. Never heard of Rurik though, sorry." Then, he took the rest of the fish into his mouth with a couple of large bites and chewed happily, contentedly watching her prepare more to roast over the flame. "Great cookin', Liliya," he said with an honest grin, patting his belly as he stretched in front of the flames. He could certainly eat more if offered, but for now he knew to wait. "I'm no good at it m'self but I can sure enjoy a nice meal," he finished with a sigh.


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I thought this might make a good stopping point since it's been a good thread but it's getting crusty. If you want to do a post with him responding to her sudden weirdness you can (and I would totally love to read). He can pursue her or stay, or be like BITCH! or whichever you want, but I think we should wrap up and start something newwww!! Word Count :: 500+


The next bundle of meat began sizzling at the end of the pole while Denver munched on the first batch. Watching him eat so merrily made her happy, she was serving her pack and her skills were being put to good use. Later when she had better means, she would make amazing seafood dinners for Salsoa. She gently nodded her acknowledgement. “Yes, that was longk after I left.”

“I did not know Magnolia is from Court also. I have not met the girl formally, but I am knowingk who you are talkingk about. Niro… bah,” she said, waving her hand flippantly despite the old wound that was being picked at beneath the surface. “Is good you not make friend with him. He is not good sort.” She shook her head then noticed that the next, smaller cutlets were cooking much quicker. Her eyes bugged as she worried she might burn them, and she quickly pulled them back from the flame. Well, they were a little over brown, but at least these ones were just for her. They wouldn’t be all bad.

She skipped adding more to the fire so she could have a moment to eat. Stabbing one end of one pole into the ground, she plucked the food from the other. The flaky meat was crispy and warm in her hands, and she gingerly flopped it from palm to palm while it cooled. A moment later she took a savory bite, her hard work finally paying off, but it wasn’t as paradisiacal as she had hoped. Niro’s daughter? She almost choked on her food, swallowing too early and too dry. She coughed and sputtered for a moment before turning her eyes back to Denver.

“Niro has a daughter? No, is not true. She is a Takekuro?” She burst as soon as she recovered. That age? She couldn’t stop the jealousy that rose in her gullet. “Vhat jerk! Guy is jerk! Do me favor, next time you see him, castrate him for me. Ok? Oh, what a slimy… he is toad…. pond scum.. womanizer!...” And for a moment her English faded out, replaced by a string of very angry sounding Russian syllables. It would be a fair bet to say that they were far worse than the string of English insults that came from her before.

A moment later her words died down and she simply sat in silence and stewed. Her eyes stared blankly at the meat in her hands and she realized sadly that she had lost her appetite quickly and fully. After a long moment, a deep sigh heaved in her chest and she turned guilty eyes to Denver. “I am sorry, I should not say such things about someone’s father. Is not her fault.”

A slew of emotions churned behind her eyes, though her countenance remained still. She held out the cooked meat she had taken one bite of to Denver. “I am glad you like my cookingk. Thank you. Vhould you like? I am not hungry any more.” Her voice was sad, low. She waited for Denver to accept or deny the offering and then stood up, taking a few steps away from the fire. She stared out at the ocean and without looking at the man said, “I think I vhill go for a walk. If fish bites you can have. Feel free to do vhat you want, I vhill come back for my fishingk stuff later.” And with that she left him, wandering off down the shore.



Image courtesy of davidesimonetti@Flickr; table by the Mentors!

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haha, i loved her outburst. good way to end it, anyways. :> yes, new thread definitely!


Denver watched Liliya's reaction as she spoke about Niro; there was a clear distaste for the man in her voice. Although Denver had not taken to the large white wolf as a friend, he wondered what things he could have done to the Russian woman to make her despise him so. He didn't care enough to ask, though, and before he could have, there was another exclaimed outburst following a short coughing fit. "Bit younger than me," he agreed with a nod. He had hit a nerve, and he sat back licking his lips clean as she rambled, furious that the Cours man had claim to a daughter. The ivory mutt's eyes were wide in surprise as he watched her, listening as she cursed Niro. He grinned nervously at the mention of castration, unconsciously bringing his legs closer together, as if fearing for his own manhood. "Heh... sure," he said, though he doubted he would ever even see Niro again. There wasn't much reason for him to travel down south; well, except for Caspa.


Liliya apologized, and Denver shook his head, waving a hand in dismissal. It had been rather amusing, but he wouldn't admit that to her. "It's fine, I get it," he said, even though he didn't really. The Russian woman seemed to deflate beside him, handing her the still-warm meat that she had barely touched. He took it, looking at her with a confused and conflicted gaze. He had no words to soothe her, so all he said was, "Oh... well, alright." He watched as she disappeared down the dark shoreline before looking down at the meat in his hands. She'd taken a bite out of one piece, and that one he dropped to the floor. The rest, though, he gladly munched as he stared into the fire which still blazed steadily.


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