Vlad watched as the Russian man petted Dmitrii oh so gently, and she smiled. She was half-tempted to say more concerning her horse, but then decided against it, and instead rested her hand behind her steed's ear, scratching it softly. Dmitrii could tell the pale man was uneasy and nervous around him, so he remained still, his only sounds being a soft whickering noise he made.
The man said a few things that caught her attention. A pirate expedition? That sounded familiar for some reason. Although, he did say it was many years ago, so she wouldn't remember it, right? However... "My father used to tell me stories of my uncle, his brother, leaving for these lands," she recalled distantly, thinking back to the days in her youth when said stories would be told before she drifted off to sleep. "He called him a pirate, I believe... Perhaps you knew of him, supposing he was of the same group as you." She saw the orange sky slowly begin to darken as the sun fell even farther behind the Earth, and she knew the moon would rise soon. "Я пытаюсь использовать русский язык в своей повседневной речи, поэтому я не забуду," she breathed in responce to his monotonous words, hoping that might help him out in his situation. She didn't really have to worry about forgetting Russian, though—her accent was so deep it put a strain on her English, so usually to soothe her tongue she would speak Russian to herself and Dmitrii.
Vladislava listened to his words carefully, nodding, and then a question came into her head. "May I ask what pack you belong to?" She had smelled a pack scent on him, though she couldn't identify it with certainty. Besides, if it was a good pack, perhaps she could join when the need began to tug at her and have a familiar face with her there.
She almost blushed when she saw Thorn bow before her, and an odd feeling of gratitude came over her. Usually she was the one bowing before others, and to be on the other end of the spectrum was strange. She kept herself from saying much, though. She didn't want to say his act of respect was completely unwanted, after all. "You know of my family?" she asked, surprise seeping into her heavily accented words. Then again, it did make sense. Thorn was a pirate, from what she gathered, and her father often worked with pirates to either transfer goods or something of the like. Not to mention a few ships they owned that had been stolen by the same pirates, more than likely. It wasn't entirely uncanny, but regardless, it filled her with an emotion she hadn't felt in ages. Respect she had "earned" from being the Kalashnikov heiress. It didn't really make her feel all that powerful, but apparently it was a big deal among others, so she had learned to adapt to it.
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