As she approaches, Derek realizes that he has very little plan for how to proceed, for how to speak with her. He has only ever seen her as a coyote, and the effect is jarring - despite knowing that he isn't dealing with a mere animal, it's more difficult than it ought to be to see her as anything else. For a moment, he wonders if he shouldn't crouch down, get on her level. She's not that animal. He can tell. Lingering on her fur are human scents: detergent, soap. She's not a coyote all the time. Just most of it.
Briefly, Derek berates himself for being an idiot, who should have come up with a plan, if not several plans, before closing the distance. As it is, he's woefully unprepared for a potential family reunion. That thought makes his stomach lurch unpleasantly. He could be looking at his cousin now. In the sharp intelligence lurking in those animal eyes, is there some semblance of Peter's old cleverness?
His hands tense, relax. Realizing he's been standing here staring at the shifter for way too long, he rolls his shoulders and resolves himself to do something. That he is nervous doesn't register with him, isn't the type of thing he usually appreciates, but it's nerves that drive him to over-thinking, to questioning.
But she came close. That's a good sign.
In the end, it's the thought of oh my god, do anything that forces him to speak.
MALIA
As she approaches, Derek realizes that he has very little plan for how to proceed, for how to speak with her. He has only ever seen her as a coyote, and the effect is jarring - despite knowing that he isn't dealing with a mere animal, it's more difficult than it ought to be to see her as anything else. For a moment, he wonders if he shouldn't crouch down, get on her level. She's not that animal. He can tell. Lingering on her fur are human scents: detergent, soap. She's not a coyote all the time. Just most of it.
Briefly, Derek berates himself for being an idiot, who should have come up with a plan, if not several plans, before closing the distance. As it is, he's woefully unprepared for a potential family reunion. That thought makes his stomach lurch unpleasantly. He could be looking at his cousin now. In the sharp intelligence lurking in those animal eyes, is there some semblance of Peter's old cleverness?
His hands tense, relax. Realizing he's been standing here staring at the shifter for way too long, he rolls his shoulders and resolves himself to do something. That he is nervous doesn't register with him, isn't the type of thing he usually appreciates, but it's nerves that drive him to over-thinking, to questioning.
But she came close. That's a good sign.
In the end, it's the thought of oh my god, do anything that forces him to speak.
"Don't you have better options?"
Hi, cousin.