too young to know it gets better

how to get information

Yelena steps off the Quinjet, Fanny in tow behind her.

St. Petersburg, the area she's in at least, seems to have this smell to it, one of morning dew and bonfires, and it immediately puts her on edge. She doesn't exactly want to be here.

But she adjusts herself, pulls her coat tighter around her shoulders, and keeps a firm grip on Fanny's leash as she approaches the pig farm.

She can hear Melina's voice already, talking to herself as she tends to the pigs (which, thankfully, are now devoid of any mind-controlling chips or other bullshit), calling out every once in a while when one gets out of line. Fanny perks up a little bit as they get closer and can hear the noises of the pigs, panting excitedly and pulling at her leash ever-so-slightly.

"Calm down, Fanny," Yelena orders softly, and Fanny does so immediately, falling in line with Yelena's walking pattern as they approach the gates.

Melina seems to catch her voice, immediately looking up and looking anything but excited to see her. Not that Melina's ever expressed emotions so boldly, but regardless, the look still isn't one that anyone would expect for not seeing their daughter for almost a year.

Yelena walks up to the fence, paying careful attention not to touch it when she sees the wiring look a little too spiky for her taste. Fanny's careful, too, sitting at Yelena's feet patiently and watching Melina with a careful eye.

"What are you doing here?" Melina asks carefully, the tone of her voice completely neutral.

"Sonya called me. She said there's a widow on her radar, asked if I could get more information from you," Yelena twists the rings of her left hand with her thumb, wishing absentmindedly that her body would stop buzzing with anxiety. This is Melina. She knows Melina. And while homophobic, she's not evil.

"I don't have much information on widows anymore," Melina replies, opening the gate for Yelena, "Come. It must have been a long flight."

Yelena stiffens, "I'm not staying. Once I get this information, I'm going to London."

"Mmh, you are still eating while you're here. Come," Melina insists, and Yelena follows her into the farm area. The pigs are all, thankfully, in their pen and unable to access Fanny. Fanny's a good dog, great with people, and maybe too comfortable with other dogs, but she's never had Fanny around a pig (and never intends to, even though she's sure Fanny's spent time with them).

"Do you have the name of the widow?" Melina asks once they're inside, pulling out some kind of tablet.

"Anya Kamen," Yelena responds, paying careful attention to not sit anywhere. She's not here to get comfortable, she's here to get her information (apparently, eat) and go to London. It's quite a simple plan, really.

"How old?" Melina's brow furrows slightly as she scrolls.

"Young," Yelena takes Fanny off of her leash and carefully rolls it up, twisting the clasp a couple of times before it rolls flush with the rest of the leash and stuffing it in her coat pocket, "Sonya's guessing that she was blipped. And she said that she looks a bit like Natasha, but brunette instead of red."

"You sound like Natasha," Melina comments, clicking something on her tablet, "All westernized."

"I'm not here for small talk," Yelena reminds her, "I need Anya's age, handling information, if her tracker's still active, whatever I can get."

"I will send her file to you," Melina replies, turning off the tablet and placing it on the table, "Now, Alexei is not here."

"Good for him," Yelena responds, checking her phone for the information, "neither is Natasha. What's your point?"