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The trek west was one he took on foot. Max had intended to bring one of the horses, but Oblak was heavy with foal and the other mare was even heavier. So he took to his lupus shape and traveled with the endless gait of his father’s blood—the dog within him was one made for tundra, and while spring was all around them, the distance was a welcomed thing. His pace was an easy lope, head and tail an even line with his spine. The entirety of the trip took less than three hours at this pace.

Ezekiel’s orders had been simple, though Max was equally suspicious of this pack. While the Aquila seemed friendly with them, he recalled hearing that both Helotes and Zana had been attacked by their members. Still, in the long run, he understood the motives for having an ally. Anathema was not to be trusted, and the northern pack had made it very clear what they thought of coyotes. This only irritated Max, who found the unwarranted aggression familiar.

The river reached before him, forming the border Ezekiel had mentioned. After drinking deeply of the cold water, Max settled back and lifted his head in a deep doggish howl.

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The wait was only somewhat long, and it gave him time to slow his breathing to normal. Max was in fine shape, still not fully matured, but his size spoke otherwise. While the journey had been a long one, he was made for such things. It did not surprise him to see the woman approach on horseback, however—Max was well versed in the care and use of horses, though he did not ride them often. Some part of his bloodline instinctively worked with the animals, recognizing them as useful tools and companions, though somehow lesser then he. The Hastati was, therefore, able to only judge the horse as tall and sturdy; he had no opinion on the genetics or true abilities of the gelding.

He was, however, quick to take in all the oddities with the girl. Her hair was wind-tousled, loose, and she had a fidgety way of speaking that suggested she had rushed here. Max’s pale eyes focused on her face. She was a true wolf, unlike his hybrid blood. One could look at him and see true dog, if not for his sharp profile. The winter coat added to the illusion, thick and heavy around his neck and chest especially.

“I’ve come on behalf of Inferni,” he began, recalling what Ezekiel had told him about the pack. Salsola was secretive and existed within a realm that fancied itself a Kingdom. He would need to speak well in order to make his point clear. “We’ve had some trouble with strangers on our borders; have they come this far west?” He was careful to watch her now, for despite the Aquila’s familiarity with Salsola’s leadership, Max had seen the damage dealt to his clanmates. He recalled the whispers of slavery, of torture, and of these equally unfamiliar concepts that went against his core teachings.

The boy, well more of a man, smelt like he wasn't far off her age. Perhaps older. But visually he looked much older, perhaps because of Odessa childlike form. Only odd parts of her anatomy gave away her maturity after all. She looked down on him as she listened to his words intently, frowning slightly. 'I'm not sure...' she said, looking around casually. 'At least, I don't think there's been any trouble...' she concluded, turning back around to Max with a gentle smile. Odessa cast her eye on him again, yes, the thick winter coat added months to his appearance. Mostly utilising the advantage of size. Of course, something which Odessa lack horribly in.

The medic's ears flicked attentively, her body swivelling around until her pumpkin eyes found the attractive form of Foxglove. 'Foxglove...' she hummed gently, 'You weren't interrupting at all' she insisted with a sweep of her thin grey hand. 'This is...' Odessa trailed off realising that she hadn't caught his name (or rather he hadn't revealed it), 'Well, I didn't catch his name. But he comes from Inferni, apparently they've been subjected to some attacks. You haven't heard anything about them around our borders have you?' she asked, tilting her head as she waited for a response.

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This Salsola had one thing going for them, Max thought. The girls who had come to greet him were both very pretty, and idly in the way of young men, he wondered if that was why they were so secretive. If Inferni had a collection of pretty women he might think of hiding them away. Most of them were too old or too…strange, to suit his tastes. The blonde woman, and Vesper’s sister, those were pretty girls. Sex was hardly the last thing on his mind, but he allowed it to simmer as the dark woman spoke again.

“Max,” he gave, yellow eyes trailing between the two curiously. If the darker woman had not heard of anything, perhaps the pale woman would know. “Anything odd—a rider on the borders, a stranger claiming they’re just passing.” Both had come to Inferni, and they had let the spy slip away. It was a fault of being too trusting, the Hastati believed, and wished he had been the one to find the brute. After killing on the borders with a madman, Max had developed a passion for fighting and killing. Wolves were few and far between, but oh when they came it was wonderful.

'Max... Yes' she repeated gently, placing the name in her mind along with his face and scent so that she'd know him if they ever spoke again. And while she didn't think she did, Salsola and Inferni was both plagued by a threat and it would do well to remember the others who fight the same evil. She, of course, had done little, well no, fighting. Ever. And was adamant that it would stay that way, perhaps until she had pups, for that was the only scenario in which she could see herself getting aggressive, physically at least. Odessa was docile and gentle by default, and although she didn't exactly see the world through rose tinted glasses, nor did her naivety cloud her judgement, she always tended to look for the best in situations.

Her ears perked up suddenly at Foxglove's words, 'Really?' she questioned, suddenly interested in things that she had not heard of. Someone skulking around the borders? That was strange. And even stranger that Novak had not alerted her to this, as he usually would. Of course it was commonplace for her to blame her own slave for her own overlooking of news, but unlike most Odessa only frowned politely and continued. 'Well, I'm glad someone else is on the ball today' the medic chuckled, smiling towards Foxglove. Very glad that she'd been here, because although Itachi had not gotten anything out of the stranger, it could be important. Like a clue.

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The blonde girl, with the doggish looking ear and soft face, offered him his first lead. Eagerly, Max watched her speak, admiring the way she looked even now. While undoubtedly something beyond his reach, he was a young man and his hormones allowed him to store information amongst that of his true mission. A faint smile crossed his face as she continued to speak, finding her language (much like her) pretty.

It surprised him that the darker wolf did not seem to know such a thing, but he supposed that some information slipped through. Max was on his feet, satisfied by the simple confirmation that something had indeed been out of order with their neighbors. Why it was such an incident had occurred he still did not know—but he dipped his head towards the pair, dark lips parting to speak. “I don’t know if it will help,” he began, paused as if considering his words, and looked to the pale girl. “Or even if they’ll come here. Be wary,” he concluded, and turned on his heels. All four legs picked up a fast trot, intent on returning to Ezekiel quickly to share the news.