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Vasiliy is by me!
Border duty was one thing Vasiliy was not very good at. He'd explored the Cercatori d'Arte packlands rather thoroughly, and the thought of tramping along the same path each day bored him to tears. So, Vasi had come up with another solution: he never walked the same way twice. Some days he started at the northern end of the lands, others the southern, still others beside the border tree. It didn't matter that these routes often made his duties last thrice as long as they might have otherwise -- Vasi enjoyed the scenery.
Today was not such a day, however. When the call came, it found Vasi sleeping in Thornbury, and it was only after Jerome nearly broke his door down that the Russian even arose. Yawning and stretching, once he'd heard that someone was howling for him, the dusky male beat a faster pace. He yanked pants up on his hips, wrapped a bandanna haphazardly around his head, and set out. No sense making his caller wait longer than they already had, after all.
His fast trot brought him to the general area Jerome had described, and it was not long until he caught a familiar scent. Isabella, come south? His heart skipped a beat, though it was not in thoughts of seeing her again: he remembered their last meeting well. He'd mucked it all up, of course, and it was a wonder she had come south for him. Scurrying toward the source of her scent, Vasi almost stopped dead in his tracks as he considered the fact that she just might be here to revenge herself for his insult?
The thought lingered, but he stepped forward all the same, slowing his pace once he caught sight of her and her horse. He trotted over nonchalantly, grinning. Sorry, he said, immediately. Napping is good for soul. Stopping a few feet from her, the hybrid stood tall and appraised her. Her pale, demure dress reminded him of the sea. Allo, Isabella.
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