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Vasiliy is by me!
The dark-furred Russian was always glad to meet another of Cercatori d'Arte. Eclipse seemed shy to Vasiliy, who was outgoing and even boisterous at times, but not to the extent of quiet Dalgina. Vasiliy nodded and his pale blue eyes looked out toward the horses, who seemed to be relaxing some in his presence. There was still tense alertness in their bodies, however, and Vasi dared not approach -- he was quite content to let them be, anyway. As the brown-furred wolf introduced herself and spoke of another Russo, the dark male's attention reverted rapidly, and he looked at her hard, astonishment clear on his face. Antony? Antony? He didn't know any Antony Russos, and he was about to say they must not have been related when it came to him.
Anatoliy? he asked, both ears pricked upwards with shock. Even his fur seemed to have fluffed outward, making him look even bigger. I have a brother named Anatoliy, but I never meet him, the dark man confessed, frowning. Rurik had spoken of his half-brothers and half-sister more than a few times, of course, and his mother had tolerated the talk of other women's children well enough, but it hadn't been a common subject, either. The dark male wasn't sure what to make of this. Is he still around? Vasi didn't know why he cared quite so much -- he'd come here to get away from his family, not to meet new and unknown members of it.
All at once, he realized his rudeness, and he shrank suddenly, dark-tipped ears folding half-mast, eyes downcast and looking away from her. Ah, I am sorry, he said, frowning deeply. I forget myself -- it is shock to hear of this, is all. Good to meet you, Eclipse Soulstorm. He was all shame and shyness with the apology, abashed at how easily he'd forgotten the new packmate right before him in the face of a mysterious Russo.
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