It was a familiar scent that caught her attention, and she lifted her head with studied caution as she sampled the wind. Valeriya, her little Valkyrie. Always she had felt closest to Sigmarr and to Valeriya, who had shared many of her own ways. Sigmarr had passed to Valhalla in glory, and she had not thought to see her Valkyrie outside of Valhalla either. Pressing forward, she closed the distance between them until she could see the dark auburn coat of the valkyrie. "Valeriya," she spoke with a soft sigh, seeking to brush her cheek against the youth's. Raisa's children were the last connection she had to the once-monarch, and it was good to see her eldest daughter once more... though she had less than palatable news to share with the wayward Xanilov. "Have your travels treated you well, oskabarn?"
