The Russian had strayed East of the Spine, to explore the place in which he had run to desperately. Perhaps he would find a new lead, more information on where his home was. After a few days of sleeping and strolling, he had time to think. He had two options: go back down South into the unbearable heat to find his pack mates, or try to find out where exactly he was, and how that related to his home.

Stomach rumbling, Dijax ventured along a thin creek leading towards a steep mountain. He was hungry, but he preferred to hunt in his host pack's territory, just to be safe. Being a guest, he would not want to stir trouble between the packs of the small world, and even if he could tell it was neutral territory, the two toned wolf would rather wait to eat.

Dijax spotted a woman ahead of him, who'd just halted for an unknown reason. Maybe she sensed the wolf approach. The male perked up a little, hoping the she-wolf had some information. Trotting up towards her, he looked over her. She was a swift thing, the color of birds he had seen often in the Wilds. Beautiful, really, but Dijax payed no attention to that. He could not have anything tie him down to this place.

The woman eyed him remarkably, speaking to him in a voice drowned in voluptuous tones. Returning her focus, expression obviously resistant to her, he countered: "Well hello to you too, madam." He paused, thinking of the right words. "I seek to know which ocean we are nearest to. If you have any idea, pray tell. If not... I'd best not disturb you," he said in his Russian-American accent, acknowledging the fact the raven probably had other things on her mind.

Dijax knew the waters of his planet well. Perhaps he could share some of his knowledge with the English speaking wolves that roamed this land. He knew which oceans, seas and channels were where, however the crust that separated them were completely unfamiliar to him. That would indeed be useful, and he doted on one day recognizing them.

He turned his gaze briskly toward the narrow stream and back, unable to see his full reflection on the water. The charcoaled male had taken care of himself; cuts fading away, energy returning to him with a new power, full stomach... He was lucky to have even escaped from the monsters Mordecai seemed to know about.

The Pacific. Dijax's heart lifted; he had not expected to find an answer to his question so quickly. And, most of all, his heart lifted because the Pacific was off the coast of his land, too. безбрежный океан должны разделить свой дом, где я нахожусь, the arctic thought. A new lead. Perfect.

Then, the alluring wolf spoke to him in Russian. Dijax did not attempt to hide the surprise upon his features — the lady spoke English without an accent, and her Russian was near perfect, but he could tell she was not a native. "Да." He studied the female before adding: "и вы знакомы с языком?" The question was unnecessary; he would find out soon enough.

As he awaited her answer, Dijax allowed his mind to trail back to the information the woman had provided him with. The Pacific. He would make his way to the coast as soon as possible. He needed to reach the Bering Sea, which was further North as far as the tundra wolf could tell. One step at a time.

Unfortunately for him, what he had hoped to be true wasn't. There were no Russians here.

Maybe Dijax had been hoping some of his pack mates had escaped, too. But now all he wanted to do was head South again to come to their rescue. It had already been weeks, so the survivor wasn't convinced they would still be there... But their scent might still be strong, considering they had been a number of wolves. It could lead him to them.

"Если Вы знаете о Беринговом море, вы знаете, как далеко это отсюда?" Dijax asked, reverting the conversation to the coast. He reminded himself he was here to find his home, not to make friends, as much as he wanted to.

Dijax chuckled softly, "мадам, сезон не беспокоит меня. мой дом гораздо холоднее, чем здесь," he said. But the woman said it would take a long travel to reach his destination. This made the decision of finding his pack mates first much easier.

The South was terrible. It was so hot, and Dijax could feel himself start to sweat just at the thought of being there. He wondered if it was always like that. The Litke wolves were family though, bonded by blood and loyalty, so it was his duty to attempt to find them.

"Могу ли я спросить; как у вас есть все эти знания?" Dijax didn't think many wolves would know this kind of information, and he was lucky enough to walk straight upon one.