Galina turned to catch Souma's gaze, nodding meaningfully to tell him she understood his words, his analogy of culture and gardens. The laughter that had bubbled up when he sounded so exasperated with her, when he claimed no one would bring weapons to the tea room - as if she were a small child much in need of lessons on the basics of just how the world worked? That laughter was cut short, brief for the sake of necessity and died swiftly in the sunshine of the Takahiro gardens.

"I could see this thing in you, this wanting to see 'more' in the world, and then even more after that, as if only whetting the appetite. There is never an end to the wait, is there? The anticipation of what might be just beyond that next corner, the next bend in the road. I imagine this is why you are so [i]very[/i] good at what you do, and how your family becomes so very prosperous, even in your absence."

Galina spoke nothing of her intimate knowledge of [i]just[/i] how prosperous the Takahiro clan had become. She could truly see no need - Souma could guess on his own for the moment, just how familiar she truly was with his family's business, and would know without the least doubt for himself soon enough.

And so the young woman's unmatched musical voice continued with the smaller talk of the moment, by all appearances to any who witnessed, simply the demure, lovely young Western woman who had charmed them all walking with the brilliant, skillful heir of the Takahiro clan. "We have many gardens in Russia," Galina continued easily, "Many kinds of gardens, from the humble, fruitful [i]dacha[/i] gardens of the common men, to the spectacular, formal Russian Imperial gardens. We too have gardens on the Demidov estates, though they are now a touch... [i]Difficult[/i] to traverse."

"To please my [i]mama[/i], Papa had acres of formal gardens created, for no other reason than to see her smile, and have her feel at home in this new land he brought her too - Papa loved her [i]very[/i] much. There were hedge mazes and blind ends, secret lovers' groves, resting benches for the weary - even fountains with clear drinking water for thirsty travelers."

The young woman's dark gaze traversed the walkways once more, gaining a feeling for where this walk might end, where Souma would - of course - be expecting far more than pleasant words to pass the time. "But after my [i]mama[/i] died, Papa let all her gardens run wild, and return to the old growth from whence those grounds were wrested. Still, it remains quite beautiful and terrible, all at once. Bear and wolf prowl among the deer once more, in the shadows of stone statues and the ruins of trellis and arbor." 

Galina laughed softly to herself. "When I was very little, Papa used to say the wolves in [i]mama[/i]'s gardens howled to sing her babies to sleep in the night. It was... Strangely comforting. I miss them dearly."

"The gardens here are also comforting as well," she continued, nodding toward one simple bamboo fountain, cleverly built to time the fall of the water just so when a counterbalance was filled, adding a watery musical rhythm to their walk. "But so very differently. Your gardens do not protect you, or watch over you in your troubles like a mother protecting her brood. Here, I can see your gardens wanting to take the hand of a passerby, to invite him to sit and listen and be taught the secret things of this world that whisper and do not shout." 

"We have some moments yet Souma," Galina said, using the familiar form of his name as he had seen fit to do with her own. "Tell me, have you yet found a favored garden of culture in the New World? What have you found there to delight you?"