Vlad listens to the sound of Ivan chopping the mushrooms. The rhythmical sound of the knife harmonizes with the other sounds coming from the station. Children crying, men and women yelling at each other or at animals, old machinery screaming for new spare parts. Sounds that always fills Teatral'naya to the brim, evidence that the station is humming with life. The music of Teatral'naya had long ago turned into white noise for Vlad.<br/><br/>"We could also wait for a caravan to come through," Vlad replies, turning a page in the book he is reading. The pages had turned a somewhat muddy grey. Who knows where the book had been found. Nevertheless, a book was a book, and it was important to escape from reality every occasionally. He does look up from the book when he reaches the end of a paragraph and eyes Ivan for a few seconds.<br/><br/>"What is it with you and this.. foolish obsession you are getting with Polis, boy?" he asks. He knows he is too old to start travelling around in Metro again. He understands where Ivan's urge to explore, see more than just the walls of Teatral'naya, comes from but he certainly doesn't approve of it.