Malia shrugs in response to his rhetorical question; it's clear she's not exactly paying attention to what he's saying until the last part. The implication that there's more than one crazy old lady with a gun out there flies right over her head (for now). She looks up at him when he mentions a witch and slams the book closed, scowling.
"Nevermind, then," she says, staring at the nearby stacks of books. If it's not someone who doesn't already know, there's no point in it. Malia rarely likes to talk about what happened. The fact Stiles knows is more telling than she likes to think about (even if he did figure it out on his own), and not even her own cousin knows the details. It's still sore, even after all this time, like a tooth she can't stop poking with her tongue.
But she doesn't want him to think she's mad at him -- she knows enough to not kill the messenger, so to speak. Malia turns back to him after a moment, scrutinizing.
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"Nevermind, then," she says, staring at the nearby stacks of books. If it's not someone who doesn't already know, there's no point in it. Malia rarely likes to talk about what happened. The fact Stiles knows is more telling than she likes to think about (even if he did figure it out on his own), and not even her own cousin knows the details. It's still sore, even after all this time, like a tooth she can't stop poking with her tongue.
But she doesn't want him to think she's mad at him -- she knows enough to not kill the messenger, so to speak. Malia turns back to him after a moment, scrutinizing.
"So why are you looking?"