Gilded Bay this is our party, we can do what we want

That's true, he hadn't thought much about it. Dash smiled and shrugged a bit sheepishly. He rarely thought long over decisions, just because it seemed like a waste of time. His gut knew a good decision when he heard it. 

"Been lookin' for a change in scenery," he offered by way of an explanation, not that it was really much of one. 

"Oh sure," Dash answered. He had learned during his travels that it was common for wolves to ask this question. People, for some reason, always wanted you to be something. So he had come up with a little title all his own, and Aditya had the pleasure of being the first wolf to hear it. 

"I'm a survivalist," he stated proudly. Surviving-- staying alive-- was truly the only thing he did really well. Staying alive was sort of the bare minimum for existence, and pretty much anyone who was self-sufficient could probably claim survivalism as a trade, but Dash was incredibly proud that he was the first one to think of it. 

Dash bent down for another lap at the coconut. Aditya had already gotten to experience firsthand a little bit of Dash's survivalism in action. Dash had gotten that coconut open, hadn't he? 

"I kinda made it up," he admitted. "It starts with hunting and gathering, with plant and animal and natural knowledge added, all mixed up with some creativity and instinct thrown in, too." 

Dash could see Aditya had some years under his belt (or collar, or whatever that thing was) and so the young man naturally respected the older man who was likely something of a survivalist himself. 

Editing in a fade.

With all the pack-related business settled, the two companions would depart for their home upon the Plateau, with the younger of the two chatting up a storm, hammering his older counterpart with (what he imagined) were enthralling tales of bravery and survivalism.