(--)
Vasiliy is by me!
Pandora? the Russian inquired, having little idea if this was simply some word he did not know or some new concept entirely. He knew he'd been awfully sheltered from the rest of the wide world within Sobirat'sya -- the Russians he'd grown up around had their own set of beliefs, and outsiders quickly assimilated or at least pretended to. Vasi had never put much stock into the gods of storm and sea worshiped -- if it could be called worship, that is -- by his family, but he was not so soured on spirituality as to default to negativity.
More than try, you did, the wolf pointed out, albeit gently and with a soft voice. Dalgina seemed soft and shy and sweet, and though he was not a particularly cautious man, even Vasiliy realized he ran the risk of dominating the conversation unintentionally. Her compliment was received with a smile, though Vasiliy took a moment to respond. His pale blue eyes were engrossed with watching the dark she-wolf's hands, and it was a long moment before he spoke. Good things, yes -- boats, maybe houses even, other things in... simple shape, the Venditore said. But not pretty things. Good and pretty were distinctly different; some canines of a practical nature would call the pretty carvings Dalgina made useless, for they had no application in the world. Vasiliy vehemently disagreed -- though he lacked a strong aesthetic inclination himself, he recognized the beauty in the world and respected it well.
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