Thorn had made Vinátta sound awfully nice the way he explained it to her. He had spoken in a passionate way about it, if not still carrying that small hint of pleading. However, she had to remind herself if might have only been so wonderful for him because he was Thorn. He was a pirate, a plunderer, but undeniably he was a Russian. Vlad had a soft spot for ones of her own ethnic group, so perhaps this pack held some Russian standards or something of the like? Perhaps not—Vinátta didn't sound like a name in her tongue. It sounded strange to her ears, but it still held a familiar ring to it. Perhaps the name derived from a European country near the Motherland. "I hope I might one day see how great it is with my own eyes," she said, smiling.
The elder Luperci gave her a nod of the head, signalling he understood her explanation of why she left Russia at all, and Vladislava dipped her muzzle a bit. It was reassuring to know someone could comprehend her and ask nothing more of it. She didn't like to speak of her past because it always reminded her of her family, and especially Nikolai. Her youngest brother was always on her mind, it seemed—those refreshing green eyes of his had left a permanent scar on her brain. She adored her sibling dearly, and often wondered what he might have indulged himself into since she wasn't there with him anymore. Had one of her other siblings taken over the reign of the Kalashnikov dynasty? Surely not the second-born, Daniil—he had stated it bluntly at a young age he wanted to perfect his hunting skills. Probably not Grigory or Natasia, either. The former had shown interest in the arts while the latter wished to write as her profession. But what about Nikolai? He was a golden example of intelligence at its best, not to mention his extensive vocabulary, mathematic and reading skills. He would've been a perfect choice for running the family business.
The white wolf caused her train of thoughts to derail as he spoke again, saying he chose to do different things than learning how to hunt and fight as other canines did, and Vladislava gave him a soft nod. She was smiling vaguely as she could understand what he meant, and gave Dmitrii a look as he whickered and stamped a foot lightly on the ground. She patted his snout before directing her sea green eyes to her fellow Russian, her beam still gentle. "I did not learn much other than how to speak English, read, write. I wish I had learned more, really."
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