Brynhild jumped as the young boy appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Sniffing, the large wolf backpedaled a few steps, bumping into Mikhail's leg. The man had been reading the notice again, making sure he hadn't missed anything, like directions. Snapped from his thoughts, it took Mikhail a moment to pull himself together. A young woman, maybe two years younger than him stood there. Slightly bent, reprimanding the young boy. However, Mikhail's voice caught in his throat when she looked at him. Vibrant green eyes, bright with life and intelligence, looked out from underneath a few rogue strands of thick red hair. Her skin, pale but not alabaster, glowed beautifully in the sunlight. Blinking, Mikhail responded. "Don't worry about it, I'm used to this." A smile, part facade part true, grew on his face. For the first time in his life, Mikhail was selfconscious about his country accent. With an inner resolve, Mikhail turned to the boy.

Sitting down on his heels, his shoulders on his knees, Mikhail was eye level with the young boy. Just as striking as the woman, Mikhail looked into deep amber eyes, curiosity flowing from them. "Would you like to let her?" Letting the question hang, Mikhail beckoned Brynhild over. With a black-floved hand, the man grabbed her by the scruff, making sure she wouldn't run away. Looking up at the woman, Mikhail truely smiled at her. "If I knew that the commoners in the city were as beautiful as nobles I would have come here long ago." With a joke in his tone, Mikhail waited for Brynhild to get comfortable with the boy. Then, standing up tall, he offered his hand to the woman. "My name's Mikhail, may I ask for your's?"