(--)
Vasiliy is by me!
The dark-furred Russian thought he was speaking to a young explorer -- the wanderlust was something Vasi was vaguely familiar with, though he was not so drowned in it as his father had been in youth. On the contrary, the dark-furred Russian thought he would be at home for some time within this Cercatori d'Arte pack -- perhaps even years, perhaps the rest of his life. Still, he understood the need to see things well enough -- it was this instinct which had driven him out of Sobirat'sya and slowly westward, toward the fabled lands his father spoke of. The world is big place, he said, grinning. Don't get lost. Or do -- lost is fun, too.
Aye... but larger, he said, thinking of Halifax. He'd seen its outline against the skies; the city was not so very large as some he'd seen, but some of the tallest buildings and oldest structures he'd seen overseas were beginning to show severe decay. Vasi did not want to be around when they collapsed. Many buildings, very tall. Many Luperci, too -- I think maybe they have little problem for wanting to stay in such a place, he said, tapping his forehead to indicate where he thought their problem might be. Wolf needs country, open land, forest, space, sky, he proclaimed. It was not natural to live on top of one another as the city canines seemed to, in Vasi's opinion. Perhaps this was what had bothered him so much about Sobirat'sya? He thought it might be, but it was also family, too.
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