Vasiliy is by me!
Yes, Vasiliy said, pleased to find one so like-minded here. Instead of all hunting, only some hunt. These, they hunt much, much food -- almost food to feed most of city. But, he paused, thinking on whether he'd seen livestock about. Yes -- Cercatori d'Arte canines knew of livestock. Others keep things like chicken, pig, cow. Like human. These they eat, too, he explained. No one is hungry in cities, but many do not even know how to hunt, the Russian said, almost scoffing as he thought of those canines living within city limits. He'd spent little time there for a reason. They would not have survived in the wild arctic for a moment, Vasiliy knew, and he could not succumb to their weaknesses and vices by remaining too long around them.
He hesitated, pondering a moment before deciding to speak again. I have talked lots about city, ocean, mine home, and Vasiliy -- you talk now? Tell me about you, he prompted, hoping it might encourage the dark-furred girl to speak more freely -- having "permission" was a powerful thing to the young. I know you are Dalgina, I know you carve wood good, you like sky and water and life, and are arctic. What else? he asked, smiling to encourage her further, if necessary.
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