<font face=times size=1 color=#BD2A2A>I AM THE MAN WHO ARRANGES THE BLOCKS</font>

Vasily had grown weary of what seemed to be her prison sentence in Iromar. She knew that her Other Mother was concerned for her safety, but at this point the girl hardly cared. The moors had grown sticky and hot in the summer heat, and the cloying scent of foliage and sitting water was nearly unbearable. And so she had left. Perhaps Other Mother would be worried, or perhaps she would not even notice, but the headstrong girl was generally unafraid of the traitor king who had rushed in like a rogue wave and swept away everything that she had known. He was a murderer, a traitor, a heathen, but he was not the mastermind he thought himself. He would not stay in power forever, and when he was finally brought down, she knew that those doggedly loyal to Aithne would make sure there was hell to pay.

In any event, Vasily was happy to be out of the oppressive moors today, even if it was just a trip out to the fields. In her life she hadn't been outside of Iromar much, before Aranck and the wildfire she had enjoyed the packlands but now it just seemed to depress her. She did not let it show, but the loss of the other half of her family had affected her acutely. And she was still trying to locate the brother of that girl Zafira, the poor girl whose traitorous father and selfish mother had cast her out almost entirely. Weakness had been clear in her but Vasily had seen some sort of potential. She had not given up, at the very least, and she had not run. That said something about her character.

Her ear flicked at a distant rumble of thunder, and almost before she knew it, rain was pouring down around her. It beat against her pelt and dripped from the tips of her fur, soaking her to the bone almost immediately- at least it was during the summer heat, and not during more frigid temperatures. Grumbling, she continued her walk- Vasily refused to let a little rain ruin her outing. The rain was washing out most of the scents and covering up most of the sounds, but she felt the distinct sensation of being close to another. Her eyes flicked back and forth until they caught sight of a small stirring in the grass.

Vasily moved forwards, letting out a small bark before approaching the stranger. It was a male, older than her, who had seemed to have simply given up due to the rain. She growled. "What do you think you are doing?" The girl demanded, her head raising to look down upon the pitiful creature. Weak, he was weak, lowered against the ground like this. "Is the rainwater too heavy for you to carry, or something?" The words were spat cruelly. She did not know this male, but she could not tolerate his weakness in her path. Either he got up himself or she would make him- he could lay back down and rot for all she cared, so long as it was out of her sight.

VASILY

two | iromar | no heart | no soul

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