The morning progressed slowly for Victoria.  A haze of issues and politics that she slowly began to despise during her career as Prime Minister.  She passed her judgement and ideas on to the cabinet, and they argued and bickered amongst themselves over whether or not she was correct, or incorrect, or how many voters would agree with it or disagree.  The odds of her own re-election in the coming year fluctuated from astronomical if she made a certain decision, to all but ensured due to the result of another.<br/><br/>It was all... Tiring, in a word.  The hours whiled away on semi-pointless decisions, since the big important stuff was taken care of during the night.  And when she was finally released from this torment... It wasn't yet over.<br/><br/>"Arthur, can you come with me for a moment?  I need to speak with you as soon as possible."<br/><br/>The older Kitsen merely nodded, tucking his cane aside with a wince to follow the Prime Minister outside once more.  The clouded sky was bright at this hour, the barest hints of sunlight peeking from between the condensed moisture.  It seemed to threaten rain later today.  The two Kitsen stood facing over the city, watching an airship slowly approach one of the towers in the center.  Sir Asimov stood silent, patiently waiting for the lady to speak first.<br/><br/>"How worried are you about the Wulfen situation, Arthur?"  Victoria pulled her glasses off her nose, folding them up and storing them away in her vest.  "Should we risk postponing the conference?"  Ears twitched, and her golden eyes seemed to watch him curiously.<br/><br/>The aged Kitsen rubbed his arthritic hands, then nodded once.  "I won't lie, Victoria."  He frowned.  "I am perhaps a mite worried about it.  But I also don't think that delaying the world conference in Wallenstein.  It's something that needs to happen."<br/><br/>She nodded once, and let out a sigh.  "Well, I should pack, then."  She stood up straight.  "See you on the ride to the flight, Arthur."