[ Both ears swivel forward towards Stiles, and Derek looks back at him as he leans closer to him. If he were a wild animal, he's in perfect range for him to lunge up to rip his throat out. And it'd be so easy to do it, too-- his jaws could close around his neck easily with his sheer size. But he's surprisingly placid for such an enormous animal, and simply observes the situation at hand. ]
I remember that. [ Scott is sated by the grin and Stiles-brand affection, but can't help his own grin as he recalls the snake. His teacher and employer, however... well, he's not surprised, but he does look amused by it. And there's that ever-present knowing look in his eye, as he regards the cursed on his examining table. ]
Well, if you can encourage him to get up, I believe most of his problems lie in needing proper food and rest after such hard travel.
I mostly just remember dad chasing it through the great hall when it got out of the cage in my room. [ Stiles' mouth twitches up in a wry grin, and the teenager turns his attention away from Scott, focusing inwards on the huge wolf. Lifting him up is a definite no. Pushing him off the table would probably get Stiles eaten.
So he's going to try and talk to the gigantic thing--get through to that humanity, the weird piercing look to his bright blue stare. He wipes the soot from the wolf off on his pants, and comes to look at him at eye level. ]
Alright, big guy. You hate this vet's office, right? They do weird things to dogs slash wolves like you here, like stick thermometers up your ass, and I'm pretty sure your life already sucks. Let's get you out of here and back home and then maybe into a bath. Sound good? You just gotta get off the table first.
[ While Scott laughs, remembering Stiles' dad running around and trying to catch the python, Derek can't help but be a little amused by the brief story himself. He knows that the vet is watching them, and he knows that the older man is aware of exactly what he is, but all of his attention closes in on Stiles. That human-like awareness stares back, electric bright eyes focused before he lets out a heavy huff of a sound.
No, that doesn't sound particularly pleasant. But everything feels weighted down, and it takes him a moment to begin moving. First, he lifts his head up completely, using the movement to try and roll from his side onto his stomach. Where he was laying there's a faint dusting of soot, but it's not nearly as much as it should be.
His paws clack against the table, dull claws trying to find purchase. ]
[ That was way easier than Stiles was expecting it to be-he blurts out a whoa, and holds his hands up, reaching out like he's going to try and steady the gigantic wolf.
He ends up finding purchase in his ruff, curling his fingers there tightly and trying to be soothing, occasionally glancing back to Scott for help. He's not the greatest at this--Scott's always the one who's had the magic touch--but dammit, he tries. ]
Hey, there you go, theeere you go, big guy. Look at you, seriously, I wouldn't be walking if something kicked my ass sideways like that, but I guess that's why I'm a scrawny human, right? I mean, with all the crazy magic shenanigans, literally, that are in this place, you'd think I'd have some awesome, special gift, but apparently my gift is getting sooty wolves off of tables.
[ When Stiles looks at him, Scott immediately comes closer. There's a moment of hesitation, the first few times, but then when the wolf tries to move to stand, he takes the other side and cautiously puts his hands against the dark fur of his shoulder to keep him steady.
Derek doesn't snap at him, but does turn bright eyes onto the other teen for a brief moment. It's the first time since his eyes have opened that he's looked away from Stiles, but it's only a second-- then he's looking back at the prince, focus sharp but completely tame.
The babbling actually helps him focus, and he starts taking the few scant steps forward so that he can move to the edge of the table, prepared to hop down so that he's not so dangerously close to the hanging lights above him.
Deaton refrains from comment or assistance, not about to correct Stiles on what his gift is. ]
[ If Stiles didn't know any better, he'd be convinced the wolf really was watching him--like he was completely fixated on Stiles. The attention's strange in fifty different ways, even a tiny, tiny bit familiar. He helps the wolf to the edge of the table, carefully, and loosens his grip just enough to let the big thing get down. He probably comes up to Stiles' chest at least, and he chokes out a-- ] Oh my god, wow, you're gigantic. [--before stepping a little back and wiping the soot off on his nice pants. Oops. ]
So what does a...giant wolf eat. Please don't say small forest creatures.
[ It takes a moment of precarious balance before Derek hops down, trying to keep his balance in the process. Stiles keeps him from tipping and Scott keeps him on his paws, pulling carefully on his scruff and ruff to help him steady his weight. While he stands relaxed, head bowed and shoulders easy, he does come up to Stiles' chest-- and would probably be taller than Scott if he stood straight and rigid. ] He's bigger than a grizzly, actually.
[ Ever helpful, Deaton. But his height is more in line with a bear from the far north than it is with any bear that could be found in the south.
Scott makes an amused little sound, as Derek shakes himself out a little. No ash comes free, though both teens' hands are covered in soot. ]
Jesus freakin Christ. [ It's sort of an all encompassing "jesus christ"--covering the wolf, Deaton, and Scott's joke all at once. He leans down a little to set his hand on the wolf's head, keeping his gaze on everything the strange creature's doing. The fact that he shakes and nothing comes off is just downright weird--either there's some kind of soot wolf of the north, or there's some magic going on there. ]
[ EXASPERATED NOISE ] Can they be cooked farm creatures? I'm looking for something that's not blood drenched teeth gnashy food.
[ Finally, he turns his gaze up to look at Deaton. ]
[ Ears swiveling back at Stiles' touch, Derek lifts his head a little into his hand before letting out a faint chuff-- it's almost like a laugh, and it's decidedly the first sound that they've actually heard out of him. ]
Probably? [ Scott shrugs helplessly with an attempt at a reassuring smile, trying to clean his hands off on his shirt. It's not that effective, considering he's covered in it. ] Lightly cooked would probably be a good idea, if not just outright rare.
[ The wolf makes another noise before Deaton can answer, and slowly starts walking forward without Stiles as if in response. The vet makes a gesture towards him. ] I don't imagine so.
Awesome. Whatever, the kitchen staff already thinks I'm nuts. [ That sounds better than fresh little rabbits, at least, and Stiles looks down when he makes a noise. At least he seems to be okay enough to walk.
He turns his attention from Scott, to Deaton, then lets out a steely sigh, and hurries to catch up with the huge wolf, grabbing his bag from the door on the way out. ] See you later, Scott. I guess.
[ One tentative hand comes down to curl in his ruff as they walk, like Stiles wants to make sure he's steady, and he mutters to himself. ] My dad is gonna killl meeee..
Yeah, well, they also listen to you. So I guess they like it? [ Scott just smiles at him supportively, all sunshine and puppies turning his hand over to pat the back of it against his best friend's shoulder in an attempt to keep even more soot from getting on him. It mostly works, thankfully. Deaton just raises a hand good naturedly to bid him goodbye, smiling that smile of his. ] See you.
[ Derek doesn't even glance back at them, resolutely keeping his focus forward as he forces his legs to move, working like unsteady pistons as he goes.
But as he feels Stiles' hand, he turns his head just slightly to look at him. Another faint sound of amusement escapes him, but he slows his long-legged and massive gait to walk close to him. It's like he's answering. Probably. ]
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I remember that. [ Scott is sated by the grin and Stiles-brand affection, but can't help his own grin as he recalls the snake. His teacher and employer, however... well, he's not surprised, but he does look amused by it. And there's that ever-present knowing look in his eye, as he regards the cursed on his examining table. ]
Well, if you can encourage him to get up, I believe most of his problems lie in needing proper food and rest after such hard travel.
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So he's going to try and talk to the gigantic thing--get through to that humanity, the weird piercing look to his bright blue stare. He wipes the soot from the wolf off on his pants, and comes to look at him at eye level. ]
Alright, big guy. You hate this vet's office, right? They do weird things to dogs slash wolves like you here, like stick thermometers up your ass, and I'm pretty sure your life already sucks. Let's get you out of here and back home and then maybe into a bath. Sound good? You just gotta get off the table first.
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No, that doesn't sound particularly pleasant. But everything feels weighted down, and it takes him a moment to begin moving. First, he lifts his head up completely, using the movement to try and roll from his side onto his stomach. Where he was laying there's a faint dusting of soot, but it's not nearly as much as it should be.
His paws clack against the table, dull claws trying to find purchase. ]
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He ends up finding purchase in his ruff, curling his fingers there tightly and trying to be soothing, occasionally glancing back to Scott for help. He's not the greatest at this--Scott's always the one who's had the magic touch--but dammit, he tries. ]
Hey, there you go, theeere you go, big guy. Look at you, seriously, I wouldn't be walking if something kicked my ass sideways like that, but I guess that's why I'm a scrawny human, right? I mean, with all the crazy magic shenanigans, literally, that are in this place, you'd think I'd have some awesome, special gift, but apparently my gift is getting sooty wolves off of tables.
[ By trying he means babbling. ]
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Derek doesn't snap at him, but does turn bright eyes onto the other teen for a brief moment. It's the first time since his eyes have opened that he's looked away from Stiles, but it's only a second-- then he's looking back at the prince, focus sharp but completely tame.
The babbling actually helps him focus, and he starts taking the few scant steps forward so that he can move to the edge of the table, prepared to hop down so that he's not so dangerously close to the hanging lights above him.
Deaton refrains from comment or assistance, not about to correct Stiles on what his gift is. ]
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So what does a...giant wolf eat. Please don't say small forest creatures.
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[ Ever helpful, Deaton. But his height is more in line with a bear from the far north than it is with any bear that could be found in the south.
Scott makes an amused little sound, as Derek shakes himself out a little. No ash comes free, though both teens' hands are covered in soot. ]
Well. Small farm creatures? [
8D?]no subject
[ EXASPERATED NOISE ] Can they be cooked farm creatures? I'm looking for something that's not blood drenched teeth gnashy food.
[ Finally, he turns his gaze up to look at Deaton. ]
Do I need like. A lead or something?
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Probably? [ Scott shrugs helplessly with an attempt at a reassuring smile, trying to clean his hands off on his shirt. It's not that effective, considering he's covered in it. ] Lightly cooked would probably be a good idea, if not just outright rare.
[ The wolf makes another noise before Deaton can answer, and slowly starts walking forward without Stiles as if in response. The vet makes a gesture towards him. ] I don't imagine so.
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He turns his attention from Scott, to Deaton, then lets out a steely sigh, and hurries to catch up with the huge wolf, grabbing his bag from the door on the way out. ] See you later, Scott. I guess.
[ One tentative hand comes down to curl in his ruff as they walk, like Stiles wants to make sure he's steady, and he mutters to himself. ] My dad is gonna killl meeee..
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all sunshine and puppiesturning his hand over to pat the back of it against his best friend's shoulder in an attempt to keep even more soot from getting on him. It mostly works, thankfully. Deaton just raises a hand good naturedly to bid him goodbye, smiling that smile of his. ] See you.[ Derek doesn't even glance back at them, resolutely keeping his focus forward as he forces his legs to move, working like unsteady pistons as he goes.
But as he feels Stiles' hand, he turns his head just slightly to look at him. Another faint sound of amusement escapes him, but he slows his long-legged and massive gait to walk close to him. It's like he's answering. Probably. ]