Whitefish River A fire in the attic, proof of the prize

"Same, to be frank,"

The pronouns and nouns he could have used to clarify what he meant swam around his head in a beautiful chaos of jumble. It wasn't the first time he found himself stuck on how to have a ocnversation. He was terrible at it. Siqsa knew the male could have simply ripped his throat out with a blow that would have been faster than he could register; but the guy seemed relatively nice. And by the tones of his voice, the dark counterpart seemed to not be too far from his own age. 
His brain was pulled form the analysis and shown the reason to his self-reflection.

"The not-meaning-to-startle part."

He swished his dark banner once before seating himself. Gave up his swift ability to strike if need be to show more respect to the guy in front of him. Solemn voice morphed his words into something a bit more blunt. 

"To get to the main reason as to me lurking, I had been around for a bit. As we can see,"

His snout upturned to the falling sky flakes. The snow, though it wasn't sticking, it still held a sharp nip if the air with it was inhaled. More than likely, it would prompt the plants to recede a bit, and with it, the prey. Things would prematurely bury themselves, and make it harder for a bite to be earned. As a lone hunter, it would also be difficult to keep up with such a foe, as winter was friend to none.

"Times have become colder. The leaves curl, color, and fall. 'Tis time for homes to be sought. So I come to your doorstep seeking a place."

Was he doing this right? If anything, everything in him simply instructed him to issue a challenge this man to right of this pack, but with what experience would he lead? With what respect would he have? With what strength would he possess? What was his goal? 
It was not time; but one day, his time would come. And until then, the yearling would have to earn his keep. 
The ideal made him relatively sick, as he assumed he came from Alpha blood. However, he was not. And the conflicting mentalities crashed through him with the rage of a storm's fury. 

"I am Siqnas. Siqnas Ntima. I hunt, fishing and other solo prey. I do have to admit,"

His tongue held the next words, refusing to let them leave without a fight. Would he honestly give up a fault to this man? What did Siq have to owe him? Not a damn thing. But the search for a home would be a hard one if he were rejected. Bringing his sight back from the skies to the place just below the Alpha's emerald eyeline.

"I am terrble at teamwork."

It burned the very back of his throat, his pride scoring the insides with the exact wash of power that a tidal wave would share. This was just stupid. What would his dad think of him, grovelling like this? Admitting weaknesses and throwing them on a silver platter for another wolf? He would surely have been murdered for this. But Slade wasn't his father. Siqsa was a bastard child, knowing neither his mother truly or his father. The only thing he could recall from Nightmare Elm was the screams and whines, the snarls and murder that happened outside of the treeroots he was hidden in. The killings Slade had done to the entire pack, then the silence that followed. The awful silence...
The same silence he was delivering on accident. 

"But I can learn. Grezig informed me you all were needing numbers."

Siqsa hoped the bringing up of the brunette would assist his chances of getting in.