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The European saw Soran smile after she spoke, which was always a good sign. Vladi was sure that this ebony woman was pleasant and cordial just by the way she presented herself—you could learn a lot about a person just by watching the smallest details. Said details could often decide whether the person is villainous or benevolent, vicious or friendly. Though smiles and frowns were the most common pointers towards one's personality, just the way a person held himself up could tell if they had an overconfident demeanor about himself or perhaps low self-esteem—if his gait was long, proud, and arrogant, it would be the former, but if it was slouched over, slow, and they tripped over their own feet, it would more than likely be the latter. Vladislava herself paid close attention to these things especially, so when it came to deciding whether or not Soran was a friend to her, she could easily answer that question with confidence: yes, of course.
"Да," she responded, nodding. "I have been thinking about looking into pack that would best suit me, however... The name New Dawn sounds familiar. Would you mind terribly telling me more of it?" she asked, the pitch in her voice curious. She had heard the pack name before, maybe whilst still on the run from the harbors. Perhaps she had come close to the territory and caught the name from other wanderers? It didn't matter. The point still remained the same—she didn't know anything of it, and to satisfy her curiosity, she'd ask a New Dawner herself about it. She followed Soran's gesture towards the east and soon nodded once more. "I believe I might have brushed by it some time ago." She still wasn't really sure if it had been New Dawn, though, but it wouldn't affect anything.
She smiled warmly as Soran told her she was also pleased she had met the Russian, and glanced down at the dark hand extended towards her. She recognized the woman wished to shake her hand, and by no means was the heiress going to deny it. Vladislava took the older female's paw into her own and shook it vigorously, but not overly so. It was a firm handshake—not too soft, but not too harsh. It was close to a perfect handshake, and it was one of the human customs she had grown up with. Her father often shook the hands of those he worked closely with when they either greeted each other, closed a deal, or were bidding them goodbye. Vlad had picked up the manner and practiced it with her brother Nikolai while still in Moscow, and had improved her shake from just a sloppy sling of the wrist to a solid shake in time.
Soran agreed silently to Vlad's comment on how the day was turning out. She probably did so with no sound as soon after she took her fill of the water again, and the gray wolfess respected that. Some people were better with physical signs of communication that verbals ones, she knew, but of course this wasn't the case with the Aatte woman. She had spoken with her already, so the Russian was sure she was more verbal than silent. "Yes. That is correct," she affirmed. "Russia is a beautiful place. I would always be up for a trip back if the opportunity came up. I am certain you would love the scenery there. The architecture is gorgeous." Upon Soran's second question, she didn't feel nearly as inclined to avoid it as she had in the past. Upon being in association with more canines lately she had opened up more, and she didn't feel sorrowful when remembering her family. Rather she had thought about how life was still good for her and them, and that leaving was for the best on both sides of the spectrum. "I came to find a better life for myself. My life there, though it was luxurious at best, was not what I wanted for the rest of my days. I am glad I came here to Nova Scotia, too; it is a nice place, would not you say?"
