[ “Who does that?” Someone with a medical condition, he thinks sourly, but opts to keep the thought to himself. Somnambulism is dangerous enough as it is; there’s no need for Stiles to explain to a stranger that he suffers from a sleep disorder, one which leaves him helplessly vulnerable. Huffing, he mimics the young man’s body language by folding his own arms over his chest. When Cain steps back to the bonfire and runs a hand through the flames, Stiles tenses. And yet the dog Turnskin continues to be unaffected. ]

I knew it was Boaltinn, [ he admits, inspecting the pendant necklace he’d been given. ] First time I’m hearing about this tradition, though…

[ Frowning, he peers down at the pendant as if he were a Witch capable of studying the magic it's imbued with. After a moment, he decisively tucks it away beneath his t-shirt. Like hell he’s giving it back. Maybe Jonas can figure out how to keep the enchantment up over time. It’ll definitely be useful, especially given his particular weaknesses as an Arachne. ]

If you aren’t familiar with the holidays, you must be Mirrorbound. [ Eyes narrowed, he squints skeptically at Cain. ] “I just thought it sounded fun,” [ he parrots in a mocking imitation of the man’s voice. ] Who does that? New dimension, hey let’s go jump through fire because why not? Dude.

[ Get judged, fuckboi. ]