Who: Anya and Dick What: Welcome to Lawrence! Sorta When: Sunday morning Where: A bench in Lawrence Warnings: None. That I know of. We'll see.
Anya was less than comfortable with the way her journey was going. First of all, nearly dying once was just strange. And not exactly fun. Nearly dying twice was completely insane. The dream had been so real and so vivid and waking up in Dimitri's arms was...nope, not even going there.
She sat up in bed and clung to Pooka, knowing they would be arriving in Paris shortly. Sleep wasn't coming to her, not anymore. Vlad was sleeping peacefully, but she was pretty sure Dimitri was still awake. Probably thinking many of the same things she was. Except maybe not how weird it had been that she'd been in his arms. Because that was just too weird to think about.
The little dog squirmed and she went to release him before realizing that she was no longer in the cabin of the boat. In fact, she didn't know where she was. And given her recent, all-too-real, almost-deadly nightmare, she wasn't sure whether to trust what was going on around her or not. Being outside was scary in itself, but the things she was seeing? Motorcars, yes, but nothing like she'd ever seen, not even in pictures. And huge buildings and people rushing about. They weren't speaking Russian, she knew that. But it wasn't French, either. In fact, she thought she was picking up words of English.
And she was still in her nightdress. With a little gray mutt. Well. That was awkward.
Anya attempted to cover herself up a bit with her dressing gown and sat up, looking around. Culture shock was kicking in, but she was growing used to that. St. Petersburg, Germany, Paris was bound to be a shock. Even though she was already pretty certain they weren't in France at all. Already, Pooka had taken off exploring. "Pooka," she hissed at him, the words clear and Russian and not understandable by most around her, she was sure. "Get back here. I'm lost enough without you wandering off!"