Witch's Marsh Born With the Fate of Dying For Someone

Never had Alastor been able to hide away the emotions he'd feel. Even as a young child, he'd been incapable of doing it. While his brother was able to hide any emotions behind an immature pout, the icy eyed boy could not. His emotions would show through no matter the situation. They were not always on the same scale appearance was, as sometimes he could limit a smile or frown to a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, but to anyone who wasn't blind, they were always noticeable. Never had he needed to, either. The land from which he'd come was a nice one, very understanding and accepting—certainly nothing like the darker wolf's background. Even with the humans' dogs, his emotions were not looked down upon. They were accepted, as they should be, and allowed the 'cousins' to better understand one another every now and again. The emotion of surprise showed across his face once more when they other mentioned him being a better wolf, and then his head shook in a dismissive manner. “Not necessarily,” he returned, slowing the movements of his head before finally stopping it and looking to the other again. “Who's to say what is seen as being better and what is not?” Having been raised as an equal to his siblings, and as such towards the rest of his birth pack as well, the Greek could not view himself as being better than anyone. Yes, some could be cruel and others kind, but who is better is all a matter of perspective—or so he believed.

For example, when he'd stated that the other's family were fools, someone could have very easily deemed him as being a 'lesser' being for that comment alone, whereas the other male simply agreed with him. Everything was a matter of perspective. “It is a relief to know I didn't offend you,” he noted, having hoped he wouldn't the second the comments had formed in his mind. Not many would take such a thing lightly, even if they were against their family, so he was glad that the Northerner wasn't one to act in such a manner. He seemed reasonable, and nothing like you would expect from someone who'd grown up as the black sheep of their family. Every time he spoke, he further showed that the way one was brought up did not always effect how they acted as an adult. Alastor tried to make himself relax some, but did not really succeed. The boy could not settle his nerves, nor could he relax his posture, even when he tried so desperately to. His body simply didn't want to comply with the commands his mind was giving it. It worsened, too, when the other made contact with his shoulder. Though the bump was a friendly one, and he'd experienced before, he was still not quite use to the sudden contact. The motion had not been carried out where he was born, and he was not adjusting to it as quickly as he wished.

In an attempt to clear away his nerves and slight rigidness, the argent boy tried to start up a conversation. One that would veer more away from the other's past, as he believed it couldn't be easy to speak up, and more towards something casual. “What brought you to this area?” he inquired then, uncertain what else he could ask. The other had shared quite a bit of himself already, which left Alastor unsure how to proceed.