George. A white dragon, no less. Named George. Viktor looked almost comically surprised for a second or two and gave the dragon a double-take, and then, for whatever reason, began to quietly shake with laughter. It lasted almost a full minute before he recovered.
"Sorry," he apologized, still chuckling and not really looking sorry at all. "It's just that I happen to know a young man named George. Actually, his name is Yuri, but Yuri is the Russian equivalent of George. I was just thinking that he would probably be quite pleased to share the name of a dragon." Yuri Plisetsky, who liked to refer to himself as "The Ice Tiger of Russia," would really get a rise out of that. He coughed and composed himself, patting Makkachin's head as she sat beside him again.
"The other Yuuri, the one who's here, I think he intended to come. I can't say for the rest. Haven't spoken to very many."