[ male ] [ seven ] [ mateless ] [ imprintless ] [ covet x malina ]

Iscariot had been more collected and -- if it could be imagined -- darker in nature personality-wise when he was younger. Age had mellowed him out from that to a degree, while in some aspects he simply guarded himself against letting any of that out. He knew that such ways would not help him get anywhere in life at this point, and so he had shoved them away. All the unsavory parts that he could keep from showing, because everyone had to make sacrifices to become something more, right? And this wasn't a big loss to him, he had only to re-train himself to be a more welcoming and friendly sort (not as easy as he made it sound even to himself now), and it had worked well enough so far. He was more easy-going, though he realized there were spots to still work on in that area. The younger wolves did not gain from him the same understanding and even manner; and he wasn't prefectly sure why.

That, and he had to fix the problem or it would do him no good. How he had missed the issue, he still did not know. Than again, the young were not often seen on his travels, so there was a flaw in the system. He had not been able to experiement with his mannerisms on them before now. Not since he, himself was so young. This had him wary, though he did intend to see what he could do about figuring out the whole thing to reach a better understanding. That, and he had picked this choice location because it was those of Spirane that held his interest in learning more of. At least for now. He had questions to pose, and he had to wonder how best to do this. Without an example of who he might be dealing with, however, there was no real way in which to prepare. All he could do was wait and work on his patience a bit more in the process.

If only he knew what parts of himself he had gain from his parents, Iscariot might have more of an idea on who they might have been. Or still were. Although he had no idea what he would have done with that kind of information. Honestly, he could play pretend with the fake parents if he thought it would get him anywhere, though he did want to get through it on his own merits, too. These things could be complicated, and if he needed to use the names he knew for later, to help him out, then he might just do that. Until such a thing arose, then Iscariot would keep the story as it was; he did not know his parents, because the truth was that he did not. He was able to use the fake parent's names if it came down to that, because by their own lies they had taught him to do so. Just because he knew better, knew that truth, did not make that fact any less so.

The waiting did pay off, for soon enough a yearling was running amok with a branch in her teeth. Iscariot wasn't sure what to make of these antics, but he decided he needed to at least try to find sense in it. Maybe that was all that mattered to the youngsters. Having the elders try to understand. And this one, at least, looked friendly by the smile (however branch-blocked). When she set down the branch and spoke, Iscariot gave a nod of his head to her. "Hello, Bastille. I'm Iscariot. I've visited Spirane a few times, but I do not live there." He explained lightly, curious on what made the young ones tick. For now, he'd ask simple questions and go from there. "Do you like living in Spirane?" Might as well ask and see what the yearlings thought of their home, right? It could give some insight, perhaps.