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

So I had to do a hop in this js.

 

For someone who knew he didn't like company, it seemed as if he constantly wandered to find more of it. Either that, or other's just liked to fish too. Siqsa was enjoying the rays of the moon on the bank, body prone and revealing none of his mesmerizing sheen of dark navy in the sea of black that was was his pelt as the world was cast into the embrace of night. Size of a wolf that was mean to grow into a monster, wide paws lay across each other while he absorbed what little energy the moon offered him. The Wolfdog was clearly oblivious to everything visually as his eyes were closed, but ears caught the crunch of pads against gravel and brittle grasses, auds immediately locking onto the sound. He followed  the passerby with his ears until the ears could track the company just upon the foot of the bank he resided on. Standing a good while ahead of time before the company was upon him, he stretched, and then inhaled what little information-

"Oy asilas."

The words had left his maw as that information hit his brain like a elk at full force. This wasn't some random wolf at the river, tonight. No, this was the man who rubbed his ass across everyone here, and made sure they wore his cologne. Now. Right here. Siqsa wasn't exactly prepared for this, and had the urge to flee before he got noticed. He hadn't crossed the border; in fact he was on the opposite end of it. Running however, would probably ensue him being seen as suspicious and could land him being chased and ripped apart. Who wanted to die like that? This was the only pack he had come across in this general area, and he knew he liked the springs here. 
Could Siqsa gain entry from simply coming out to the Alpha? 

"Hello?" 

The short chuff was sent outwards and in the direction of the noises, where his silhouette stood as he did. Back to the moon, the only visible aspect of himself was his shape, a growing mass of a large male, and a glint of his scarlet topaz eyes.