Stiles takes a mental step backwards, reminded now that Malia will approach issues from a highly different angle than he’s accustomed to. Her perceptions of the world have undoubtedly been viewed through a coyote-like lens. Dragging a hand through his hair, he considers how to explain and then tries again.
“Just hear me out. Imagine there’s this adorable, fluffy bunny. It takes a risk by venturing outside the den and thinks, ‘Hey this isn’t so bad!’ Everything is sunshine and rainbows and Disney princesses. But just because it doesn’t see a predator doesn’t mean it isn’t being watched. And we both know what’ll happen when the coyote decides to hunt it. That’s how it is with these people.”
The pen is tapped furiously against his notebook; he’s agitated, not by her lack of understanding, but by his fear of the Night Council.
“Maybe they wouldn’t care if you shifted in front of me, because I already know about the supernatural. I don’t know. Don’t think they’re not dangerous, though.”
no subject
“Just hear me out. Imagine there’s this adorable, fluffy bunny. It takes a risk by venturing outside the den and thinks, ‘Hey this isn’t so bad!’ Everything is sunshine and rainbows and Disney princesses. But just because it doesn’t see a predator doesn’t mean it isn’t being watched. And we both know what’ll happen when the coyote decides to hunt it. That’s how it is with these people.”
The pen is tapped furiously against his notebook; he’s agitated, not by her lack of understanding, but by his fear of the Night Council.
“Maybe they wouldn’t care if you shifted in front of me, because I already know about the supernatural. I don’t know. Don’t think they’re not dangerous, though.”