Walls

Any need for an apology died when Isabella spoke, laying to rest the man's worry that he had spoken out of turn (and so soon into the conversation!) He let her speak in full, his own ears perked with interest as she spoke. She thought it interesting he could speak "another language" - this he would not comment on at any point. For him it was normality - he had learned the language of his pack - of his ancestors... but they lived in a land surrounded by packs who spoke the dominant tongue. Learning a second language hadn't been an option - it had been a requirement.

She spoke on control, and that gave her away. It was part of the core of her being; the coldness was not to be confused with malign intent, but rather it seemed to be her rendition of strength. It seemed to be her way of keeping herself from becoming that rogue wolf that was so often avoided in the wilds. And, as she appeared to be as alone as Mikhail was (except the words which suggested there was another she spoke to with some frequency) he also suspected she used the facade to keep herself safe. And no wonder - she was a little thing.

"My apologies, that was more of an answer than you needed," she finished with an apology, prompting the gentle furrowing of the man's brow and a slight frown.

Mikhail had already misjudged her. Her demeanor was ice and he had expected her answer might be a bigger wall - one he would not have scaled readily. Instead, she spoke with (relative) ease, so while he agreed with her assessment on the amount of information given, he could only bow his head and give it a light shake. "Do not concern yourself, Miss VentFlurrer. I am not bothered," he assured her with a dismissive wave of his tail. And just to prove he was not concerned with the amount of information she had given - and to steer the conversation away from any discomfort on her part - he answered the question she had asked him in return:

"A little of both, I must admit. I come from so very far away and I know little enough of the... geography to be so very deliberate about where I go. But I do not think this is a fair answer to your question. I do not mind the cold and this place is sehr interessant - very interesting," his gaze trailed to the wall as he said this, a half-smile teasing at his lips. He needn't go into his musing about different kinds of walls - or rather he wouldn't - but he returned his blue eyes to Isabella and canted his head slightly. "So today I explore! And tomorrow, perhaps I move on."

A peculiar expression - somewhere between amusement and curiosity - flitted across Mikhail's face when next he spoke: "Did you say you speak... 'gecko'?"