The Bracken Woods blood-freezing

The answer she supplied took a beat for him to process it was so foreign in nature to his ears. It was nothing like the rhythm of the Giamalva wolves' language that he is far more familiar with. He certainly didn't recognize it, and it didn't immediately occur to him what it was supposed to signify a name. But, he caught on, and he noted it. "Dio," he offered in return with a small dip of his muzzle towards his chest, although she hadn't exactly asked. It seemed as good of a time as any for an introduction.

"Don't know yet. No plans, nowhere specific to go," he answered truthfully without much forethought going into it. Dio went where he could survive -- wherever his next meal was, or wherever he could find a place to rest. Following the coastline had gotten him this far but he had no long-term plan in mind; he often found they didn't suit him anyway, but not having anywhere to go was making it difficult here in the dark of winter.  He claimed no sentimental homeland to return to, and the only place he'd ever been remotely attached to had burned along with all they had created and nurtured there. He  was just as aimless as he had been many moons ago. "My last pack is gone and I've traveled down the coast since," he explained.