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For what felt like an eternity, Siris was preparing. He led the younger In-Training through their own dismay and into their growing maturity, all while grappling with it himself. He had to be the leader these younger ones needed... it was all they had. It was all he had. He trained as much as a Viximon could, running as much as he could, jumping and even fighting some of the rowdier ones to teach himself something he felt he already knew. Something that was begging to be let out. Something that was in his blood.
While he kept it at bay, there was something that encouraged him to fight. Wanted him to teach these lesser's who was in charge. But his want to protect the younger Digimon outweighed his want to do violence. But he could never stuff it down, he feared he never could.
Soon, Siris joined the ranks of Rookies. Taking the form of a Renamon, the young fox was ready to take on the world with as much vigor and defense as he gave to the Village he was born in. Swanmon had given him a small bag of food and a map, telling him where he should go and what he should do... she suggested a job of some kind. But he had other ideas.