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Just as she was amount to remount her steed, a loud, angry yap made her freeze. Her ears perked up at the sound, for she recgonized that voice very clearly—Amy had been etched into her mind for quite some time now. Tentatively the Russian woman looked over her shoulder to see none other than the infamous merchant, her blonde face as furious as ever. But Vlad was confused. It hadn't been a full month since she exchanged her word for Dmitrii, had it? It couldn't have been! She had been counting the days so she wouldn't ever forget. And, truth be told, she actually was planning on going up to see Amy earlier than a month just to be on the safe side. There was no way it had been a month. Vladislava would've known if it was.
Taking a shaky breath to calm herself—Aro had told her nasty things of this woman, and she in turn made her own judgements of what he said; needless to say, they were not good ones—she turned from her Clydesdale to face the other female, and flinched at the loudness of Amy's voice. Her hand slowly reached into the pack to grab the metal polish she had collected earlier in the month, and she folded her ears apologetically. She knew it hadn't been a month, but she was not about to anger Amy further, either—this woman could probably stab the heiress ten thousand times without even looking, she was sure. "I... I am sorry," she answered, her tail hanging between her legs, "I did not mean to put it off so long, I swear. But... It has not been a month yet, has it...?" She then quickly held out the vial of polish, fearful her last words might have sealed her fate. "Th-This is the polish I received. Marino also proved his slave Raoth was in good hands—he brought him to me for proof," she said, her words rushed and slightly harder to understand. Her thick accent coated most of her words much more than it had in the past, probably due to her nervousness, and Vladislava gave Dmitrii a scared glance as she looked to Amy again, hoping she wouldn't use those knives she had casually brushed her hands over.
