Before he could wonder if the hornet would willingly step away from its liason, Ippolit felt steps like blunt pinpricks settle demurely on his palm. He lifted his hand and its passenger to his face, observing with wonderment the chitinous shine of its carapace, like lacquer. He studied the shining black eyes and noticed, with delighted amusement, that he was being studied as well.

"Can you give a description?" Ippolit asked, watching Viktor's antennae wave and feeling an urge to wave back.