Sergei laughed heartily, watching as Yelena attempted her escape. She never had any realistic chance of getting anywhere, that was true, but it was thrilling to watch her long, lean limbs in motion. Even if it was only for a few awkward strides. He gave pursuit, though perhaps that's too generous of a term. In truth, he strode forward, stomping out the faint imprint of Yelena's much smaller print, left in the dirt by her dance slippers.<br/><br/><em>"One, two, three..."</em>Sergei counted to himself in Russian, stretching out his legs to literally follow in Yelena's footsteps.<em>"Four."</em><br/><br/>When Yelena fell over, Sergei interrupted his count to applaud her attempt. He wanted to hear how close he was, how little she'd accomplished despite her wishes. A slow, sarcastic clap: demeaning in any language. He finished counting her steps at six, at which point he was standing over her, still clapping.<br/><br/>"You look so athletic, running like deer." Sergei said, reaching down to tug Yelena to her feet by grasping the woven ropes between her breasts. "It was a good try, now we go inside."<br/><br/>Sergei was much more respectful of Yelena now, she'd proved good sport for a moment, his mood was better as well. He even took the time to dust her off before leading her with a hand on her shoulder toward the cabin. He squeezed harder when they approached the doorway.<br/><br/>"Step up, otherwise you'll bang your foot."