Swiftcurrent Creek out of his heart will flow rivers of living water

The boy sank back upon his bony haunches to wait, but the tip of his whip-like tail twitched with uncertainty and impatience. It seemed like this guy wasn't about to point him in any direction — going so far as to request the presence of an Alpha. That was fine by him if it meant getting something to eat. He could sweet-talk whoever showed up. Python didn't know how other tribes worked outside of his own familial group, and so he was a little bit perplexed when he was made to wait, but he mentally prepared and would say whatever he needed to get what he required.

When a black-furred stranger arrived, prompted by the summons as far as Python could tell, he was careful in his assessment of them. They looked healthy and confident; however, their black fur brought an instant apprehension to Python's awareness that he could not shake. This was something that had been drilled in to him from birth but, if he was going to survive and get fed, he'd have to curtail his views. It wouldn't last forever, he told himself. These were outsiders and they were an ignorant bunch, but they were innocent until proven otherwise — and that thought rivaled everything Python had been taught. That is what made him a heretic in his own right, and a radical of the faith.

Whether the guard introduces him or not, Python goes ahead and addresses the newcomer.

Python. I'm hungry and lonely, and looking for a place to stay. It might've been pertinent to be more open about himself but that wasn't in his nature. It was a struggle just to focus on the two wolves rather than decide they were both threats and go on with his solitary lifestyle — but being alone would certainly spell his doom, and he wouldn't give his kinfolk (or their devious God) the pleasure of that.