Northstar Vale i'm the pretty prince of parties

His voice would never betray him, but Jax felt a twinge of fear as the leader stepped forward and hulked over him. He was in a very vulnerable position, and though he might be able to outrun the wolf above him, he would never be able to outrun the entire entourage that surrounded that wolf. Keeping the side of his face firmly planted on the ground so he wouldn't be mistaken for trying to go for the leader's throat, Jax rolled over on his back, tail wagging pathetically between his hind legs. The shit-eating grin he had been wearing turned apologetic as he responded to the towering figure's questions.

"Ah, where are my manners? I was trying to be, as the pups say back home, safe rather than sorry. Some packs would tear you limb from limb for going farther than I did, I am glad to see you are not one of those packs! Though, perhaps I'd be in a less...awkward situation, if you were." He licked his lips again, glancing around to make sure none of the groupies had snuck around to ambush him while he was talking.  This pack was a mystery to Jax, as he had stumbled upon it purely by accident; hoping to find refuge from the biting winds of winter in the valley, he had picked up the scent shortly after crossing the ridge and followed it to where he was now. For all he knew, this was one of those weird cults, and he was about to be whisked away as a sacrifice. 

"Should we start over? Do you want to take your, ah, friends, back, and I can seek you out all nice and proper? No howling, no shortcuts, just me finding you, how's that?"