Peter Rumancek

"Maps don’t run out of batteries.  And I don’t have a car.  But thanks for the assumptions, though."

Stiles’ eyes narrowed a bit as he studied the other wolf.  His heart beat steady, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything when it came to wolves, and this wolf…he was a different kind of wolf in a lot of ways.  Stiles could already tell that much.

The temptation to agree and assure this pack wolf with the strange eyes that he'd be on his way was present somewhere in the back of Peter's head. It was definitely the human of him, with roughly the same common sense the gods gave a cat, the part with any self preservation instinct. But Peter wasn't all human. He was wolf too. And while the human part of Peter would be happy to say fuck it and leave all that stupid macho posturing bullshit in the rearview mirror of a jacked car, the wolf knew perfectly well that any concession could be seen as weakness, as an invitation for attack. As far as Peter's wolf was concerned, a lone wolf was only an omega if he took this kind of shit. And no part of him was willing to be anybody's bitch.

"Pretty sure it means if you’re going to try and catch my attention, you should do something more original."

turnsonbadmoons​

Aw, sheeit. Peter realized all too late that he was getting sloppy. That pack wolf was there and flashing eyes at him before he had the chance to know his ass from his elbow. Fuck.