Silvertip Mountain Resolute

The rust coloured male stepped lightly through the land of stone and rock, this setting familiar to the young wolf. He had been born to the mountains, and his paw pads were thick and rough due to the unforgiving mountain's surface. Here, he had no problem navigating the incline, for finally, he had encountered a territory much like the one of his birth. He smelled pack-scent, and the invisible lines that marked thier hunting lands.

Suddenly, an ache filled the wolf's chest, and he stopped. He so dearly wished to be part of a pack once more, but after the last few failed attempt to join packs along the way here, he doubted his pack-joining skills. The first time he had not submitted properly, and an enraged alpha pair had driven him from thier lands, the second, he had made a joke that seemed to have offened the beta, and the third time, well...
That was an interesting story, for another time.

This time, he convinced himself, would not end so poorly. Fourth time's the charm...right? Makui twisted and angled his path toward the pack borders, toward Silvertip Mountain (though he did know it as such). He just had to avoid screwing up. He went through what to do in his mind: Submit, don't make stupid jokes, address the wolf in a respectful manner, and under no circumstances mention any missing limbs, rather unfortunate scars, or anything of that nature. Feeling a little more confident, Makui approached the borders and sat. He tilted back his muzzle and let out a call for the pack that hunted here.
(@Steady ?)