Life had not been kind to the young DeSarinno-Frostfur; not since he had gotten separated from Cyrus. He had truly thought he was going to die after having had a not so nice run in with a badger. It had torn his hindquarters up pretty good (or bad). He didn’t remember a lot from that day other than having made his way to the bottom of some mountain. He didn’t remember if someone had found him, if someone had taken him in, if someone had tended to his wounds. He had been pretty out of it for many days. When he had finally woken, he had been all alone but a fresh rabbit had been left for him. Apparently, whoever had been taking care of him had decided he was well enough to not need them anymore, leaving him to his own devises.

He’d been entirely alone ever since, and not liking it in the least. He wasn’t the best of hunters, having never really hunted by himself because he’d always had either his parents or Cyrus around. Hamied had considered returning to his parents, but he couldn’t even remember how to get back. So he did the only thing he could think of, he returned to the last places he could remember having been. It had been so long since he’d seen Cyrus, that he figured his brother had given him up for either dead or gone to try to find him, so he didn’t bother trying to return to the last place he had seen Cyrus. Instead, he wandered, aimlessly, trying to think of what to do. And then he thought of his aunt, Koontz. Maybe if he could find her, he could find a home as well.

He returned to where he was so sure that her pack was, but he wasn’t finding her scent, at all. This was obviously distressing to him, but there was obviously nothing he could do about it. That was when he picked up the scent of a nearby pack. He was hesitant to approach anyone he didn’t know, but if he didn’t do something, he wasn’t going to make it for much longer. He looked pretty ragged with his disheveled fur, slight limp and scars on his flanks from where the badger had torn into him. The yearling could only hope that whoever lived here didn’t turn him away.

Stopping at a respectable distance, the young male found himself hesitating. Uncertainty filled his every thought and he almost changed his mind. Almost. Knowing it was now or never, the young male tilted his head back and let his soft voice fill the air, asking for audience with whoever was in charge. Then it became a waiting game…

His wait time was a lot less than he thought it would be, though he really wasn’t entirely sure just how long he would have to wait. When he had first ended up at the base of the mountain toward the north, no one had come. At least not while he had still been conscious, anyway. So he wasn’t entirely sure just how long he thought he was going to have to wait. It sure didn’t leave him much time to completely change his mind, at any rate.

The moment she came into view, the yearling dropped into a respectable bow, slicking his ears back against his crown in the process. He wasn’t good with speaking to strangers, having always left that to Cyrus when they had been traveling together, but Cyrus wasn’t here, meaning he had to do it himself. ”Hamied DeSarinno-Frostfur, ma’am,” he answered her first question first. It was her second question that left him stumped for a brief moment, but only because of his own awkwardness.

”A home, ma’am,” he finally responded after a few brief moments. ”I have nowhere to go and don’t want to be alone anymore. I lost my brother, Cyrus, several months ago. I got separated from him and couldn’t find him. I thought about returning to my parents’ lands, but I don’t remember how to get there.” Once he got going, he found he couldn’t seem to stop. The young male cringed when he realized he must be rambling. ”I’m sorry…” for rambling, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to say the rest of his apology out loud.

Although he knew that he was quite a pitiful sight, he wasn’t expecting pity from anyone (though it wouldn’t hurt haha). He didn’t expect to be let into anyone’s pack based on pity, and would probably walk away if he thought that was the case. The young male didn’t want to be someone’s charity case. Hamied wanted the chance to be able to prove himself. Of course, he knew that he would have to get healthier in order to give his absolute all, but still.

Making sure to keep his gaze upon the ground, he gave a slight shake of his head before speaking, answering her questions. ”No ma’am,” he began, still making sure to be as polite as he had been taught by his mother. ”When I left home with my brother, I did so with no intent on returning home. I was going to only try to return back there as a last resort.” But even his last resort seemed to fail him. There was just no winning for him, it seemed.

Lifting himself from his almost seemingly cowering crouch, but without lifting his gaze, he took a deep breath. ”I know I don’t look like much, ma’am,” he began, not feeling anywhere near as confident as he was trying to sound. ”But I only ask for a chance to prove myself… to prove that I’m more than I currently appear.”

He flinched, slightly, as she made mention of the scars on his flank. ”They’re mostly healed, ma’am,” he spoke up only when she had finished. He would absolutely not ever interrupt someone obviously far above him while they were speaking. His mother would have tanned his backside if he had even remotely considered doing so, and it stuck with him after all this time. The manners she taught him would probably never leave him.

”I’m not the best hunter in the world,” he chose to start out, giving another slight shake of his head. ”I can hunt, though. However, my parents, both leaders of their pack, taught me, and my siblings, how to interact with others, pack politics I guess you could call it. Because I was the one that was picked on the most, I focused my attention on learning all that my parents wanted to teach us.” Hamied truly didn’t like talking about himself, especially when it felt like he was bragging about himself, even though he really wasn’t.

There was something else that was good about him… ”My small size makes me swift. The limp I now walk with doesn’t hinder my movements. My parents taught me to be alert to my surroundings. It wasn’t until my accidental run-in with a very displeased badger that I fully understood what they meant. I’m young, ma’am, and willing to do whatever asked of me, learn whatever someone is willing to teach me.” Would this be enough to gain acceptance into her pack? He could only hope.

As she spoke, his ears tightened against his head. Though his parents had never actually gotten involved in the politics, they had made sure their children learned just in case they ever needed it later in life. ”Yes, ma’am,” he replied, ducking his head down a little lower. He didn’t seem to be getting off on the right foot and it was rather discouraging to the yearling. Hamied was starting to worry that she was going to turn him away because he was seemingly basically useless to her.

When she spoke again, he felt a touch of renewed hope. The yearling male readily nodded his head, making sure to absolutely keep his eyes diverted away from her face. ”I am willing, ma’am,” he answered, trying hard to not sound as eager as he was feeling at that moment. Though he wasn’t sure what skills were expected here, he didn’t want to seem like a complete moron by asking her when she already seemed displeased by him. If he was accepted, he would ask it of someone else within the pack.