"Chems are a definite no-no." Danse may smoke like a chimney and drink almost as much but chems? No way. He draws the line at chems. It's one of the many reasons he constantly wants to punch Hancock in the face.

"We will find a way to make contact. I'm sure there must be some kind of radio towers beyond the Commonwealth we can get operational. Or perhaps we could attach notes to the wild birds and hope they find their way back here..." He doubts there is any official mail channels these days. Perhaps once they secure more settlements then the can try establishing a mail route - an ambitious goal.

The Brahmin will have plenty to eat along the way. Danse can't see the appeal of dried, irradiated grass, but the beast seems thrilled at the prospect.

"Hm. How about west?"