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Her call had been desolate -- a broken melody and a mere fragment of who the goddess once had been. For moments, it remained unanswered, no others sounding in the distance. Perhaps the pack was simply deceased, an disbanded group of rogues. Just as the golden mask would turn away, came the presence of a glorious living firebird, though she paid little mind to her original pelt tones, but instead to the pearly mask displayed upon the crown of the young woman. A small growl of distaste would come from splayed lips, as her right eye would roll slightly toward the phoenix. "You're a Xanilov, aren't you? You're far too young to have fought in the coup and traveled here." Ah, no sarcasm, no humor; classic Vasilisa. Her voice was slightly eccentric, but held a steady tone throughout the verse, lyrics sung from tattered lips in a desolate and hollow sound. The phoenix's suspicions would become confirmed, as the cyan-eyed tempest would speak of her origins and ask of her reasons of coming to the lands she came upon now. "Raisa... she is alive?" The only surviving child from her aunt's litter had been killed, slaughtered in the face of the coup. There was no possibility that she had been fit enough to come to such lands. "Don't correct me, if she wasn't alive, how would you be in existence?" A quietly spoken smart-ass comment would slip from inky lips, but clearly loud enough for the tempest to hear. Perhaps if she wasn't that cheerful, she could stretch her legs and run for once. The tempest did not want any hint of fighting or war anymore. "If you are going to chase after me like a rabid dog, at least spare yourself the time and allow me to take my leave. What is the point of battle?"

Insanity was doing the same thing over and over; expecting a different result every time. The definition of the word fit the theme of the coup so well, so perfectly, as if it were modeled exactly for the war. She showed many signs of the battle, but the young fae only stood with a clean slate, no scars pockmarking such a vibrant and gorgeous pelt. "I used to be like you, miss Valeriya. War can change someone so much, especially when you watch so many of your loved ones die in front of your very eyes." This yearling obviously knew nothing of what war was, of what it could cause, what damage it can do to one's heart. "I don't blame anyone but those of Old Ebony. So many rumors and lies, I can't tell who to trust anymore. I am sure your mother learned the same way through the coup." The tempest saw a hell before a heaven, a hydra before an Eden. She had bitten the forbidden apple, and in return, her heart had been crossed, casted aside as if she were a misfit. "Just let that be a lesson for you. Don't put too much trust into someone, not even your family."