River was transfixed by the view of the ocean that spanned so far, the surge of homesickness weighing heavily on her heart. She could not believe that she had been trapped and shoved into a boat where she had spent weeks without view of the sun, sickened by the roll of waves beneath the ship as she traveled further and further away from home. Looking across the ocean, she knew she could never return. Too much had changed, and the change was happening all around and within her with no hope of ever slowing or stopping.

Coal ears twitched as footsteps and a hushed voice broke her from her sorrowful reminiscing. She glanced over her shoulder to see a very strange-looking werewolf standing nearby. She stared at him a moment though he had already spoken to her, in wonder of the style of his mane, the eagle perched on his shoulder. But the child cradled in his arms caused a softness in her usually icy lilac-blue eyes. Finally, the wolfdog nodded, stealing a glance at the roaring ocean below before looking back at the shifted canine, his child and companion. It is very beautiful, she agreed, unable to keep the wistful tone from her voice. I am River Hati. Vat is your name? And ze child?

The little one was as energetic as little ones were, jabbering about many things at once. A smile pulled surreptitiously at the corners of her lips, her expression softening increasingly as she mildly watched the child's antics. She would never forget the most exciting time of the year when she had been a pack wolf in Russia, when the season's pups were just emerging from their mothers' dens, spurning joy within every member, including her. She had silently longed for children of her own, but had never been able to experience such a blessing. Perhaps that was part of her bitterness in general. Ze pleasure is mine, she returned dully, though her features remained pleasant.

His question caused her left brow to raise slightly. Obviously, there were other Russians around, which truly did not surprise her. The slave ship had been full of all manner of canines, and apart from that she was certain that others had been able to sail here of their own accord. Yes. I come from ze forests of Northern Russia, she explained, resisting the urge to turn away and gaze at the ocean once more. She did not wish to give him any other detail of her past, not at this point. River was not one to pour her heart out to strangers. Instead, her attention turned to the bird perched on the shifted wolf's shoulder. Was this another custom of the canines who resided here, to have birds, as well as horses, for friends? Ze bird, is it your... companion? she asked, stumbling slightly over the word she had learned only days before.
She knew the answer to the question already, but she spoke it with the hope of learning more. The idea of having a bird as a companion did not bother her nearly as much as having a horse, as wolves generally did not eat birds unless they were forced to.