The pouring rain and roaring winds were starting to eat away at the Russian.
Sure, Vlad had been in a terrible storm near the beginning of the month, but even in all its horribleness, it didn't compare to the squall she was in now. The sky, a pearly gray color from the dense storm clouds, refused to let any sunlight whatsoever shine through them. The never-ending precipitation had her fur beyond soaked, and the harsh winds were making Dmitrii anxious. Because of his nervous behavior, the heiress chose to walk alongside and lead her horse along, and she would have to calm him with reassuring words every time a foreign noise reached their ears. This hurricane certainly was a troubling one, and Vladislava had a feeling it wouldn't leave the Nova Scotian area anytime soon.
The dark wolfess walked on, see green eyes alert and carefully scanning the area. The storm had rendered three of her senses fundamentally useless, which didn't help matters—the rain covered any scents she might come across, the darkness of the woods had blinded her considerably, and the howling air was screeching over any other sounds. Only prominent smells or noises caught her attention, and sure enough, one of these things would soon come in her way.
Abruptly Vladislava halted herself and her stallion when a scent stronger than the fragrance of the rain reached her nostrils, and familiarity came with it. It was a smell she had sniffed before, she was sure—by the scent of it, it was one she had crossed paths with twice. It was a pack's scent, she knew, and eventually her mind remembered why it was so familiar.
The Kalashnikov stood stiffly at the borders, careful not to cross over, as she weighed her options. She could perhaps take refuge in this pack—Sangi'lak, if she remembered correctly—until the hurricane passed over. She knew both the Alpha and Alphess already, so she was sure she wouldn't be turned away. Besides, it would be delightful to see X'yrin again, and further her budding knowledge on low speech so she could speak with Dmitrii. In her time away from the Issor she had learned more of the stallion's language, and by the way Xy was so excited about her learning the words of the creature, Vladi was sure she'd be impressed.
After taking a shaky breath, she cocked her head back and released a long howl, hoping it was loud enough to be heard over the wind. The call itself had a form of individuality she knew Xy would recgonize—the way her thick accent covered her words had also slightly covered her howls as well. After the cry she fell silent, holding Dmitrii's reigns tightly as she pressed against his flank. She hoped the tawny wild would come soon—she wasn't sure how long she could stand this horrid storm.
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