Stiles looked up, watching Isaac move to sit on the bed. His wolf feels cagey for a moment, but relaxes, enjoying the smell of the other wolf around him. He didn't think on that, though, but on the other werewolf's words.

"Where do you want me to start? I...spent six straight months running. Didn't know what the hell I was doing." Stiles was surprised that he even survived, frankly, "Ended up in Canada...ran into a pack up there that had completely cut themselves off from humans a long time ago." They had found him, half starved, more feral than human. "They took me in, helped me gain control of myself...taught me things about what I was, now." And how to deal with it.