Solomon Djaevelen is the Walord Prince of Dhemlan (blackjeweled) wrote in musings,
Meeting new people was probably one of Solomon's least favorite activities. New people brought new threats, and he didn't like having new threats hanging over his shoulders, bearing down on him. He moved closer to the door at Cora's call, lifting a brow. Katya was a Russian name. While he prided himself on his ability not to care - because for the most part he didn't - he had lived through the Cold War in America, and he remembered the garbage both the Soviets and the Americans put each other through. The knee-jerk reaction of distrust was still there, but this girl, as he approached, looked far too young to be a danger.
That didn't stop him from forming two phantom hands and lacing them loosely behind his back, ready for use at a moment's notice.
"Vatrushki?" he asked as he inspected the basket in Katya's hands and inhaled the scent of the treats. He'd had them, once, a while ago, and was surprised he still remembered the name. With a shrug, he shifted away from the door and went toward the kitchen, intending the get glasses and plates for everyone. "We have enough for Katya to share if she wants some tuna," he said, hating that he had to be hospitable to perfect strangers all the time.