#qtxt

You really are such a violent werewolf," Scott says, but he sounds more amused than scolding, so Stiles shifts his face so his bones crunch and reform more angular, fangs push past his face, and his eyes flash golden. Scott's own eyes gain a golden sheen, and now they're just grinning at each other in the middle of the Hale preserve. "Actually," Derek says, walking into the clearing and casually standing in Stiles's bubble of personal space, "he was always pretty violent. It's just that now he has the claws and the teeth to back it up." Stiles extends his claws, feeling vaguely like Wolverine if he wasn't a fun sucker, and scratches the air like a cat. "Grrr.