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Vasiliy is by me!
Vasiliy had little experience with packs other than his Cercatori d'Arte. He didn't know what to expect, but the Russian was calm, all the same. He knew nothing of the reputation of certain groups in this land, and was therefore unconcerned with the sort of reception he'd receive, assuming all was friendliness and openness to trade. He did not have to wait long before the sounds of an approach caught his dark ears. Bright blue eyes peered up and around, seeking the source of the sound, and in the distance he saw a figure moving toward him, two-legged and tall. She appeared to be colored as the trunks of trees at first, but as she drew nearer, Vasiliy saw her coat was far more golden than it was brown, streaked with rust and russet in places, as well.
She spoke a greeting and then a mouthful of titles that Vasi could barely comprehend. He grinned broadly all the same, assuming it had something to do with her rank and the place he'd come to trade. Vasiliy Russo, good lady friend, he said, introducing himself in a voice thick and growly with the accent of the motherland. I am Cercatori d'Arte wolf, come north with ship to trade. I walk here from camp, back that way, he said, gesturing with a dark hand in the general direction of the place where his pack made camp.
This pack, he started, thinking on the string of titles and locations she'd given him previously. Nomads of Sangi'lak. You trade? Have horse, have sheep, have many other goods, he said, patting Jakki on the neck. The mare whickered her approval and lifted her head upward, arching her neck as she did so. Vasi grinned, not having planned for the mare to show off, but happy she'd done so all the same.
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