"Sorry, Lahey, but I'm more of a cat person."
Vera Pérez is no stranger to the supernatural. Growing up alongside the Hale family has kept her fairly well-informed about the creatures that lurk in the darkness. However, she didn't become one of thos...
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( tattoo, pt. ii )
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
THOUGH THE BIRDS have ceased their relentless attack on the students in Miss Blake's first period English class, it doesn't keep the room from being any less chaotic. It's now swarming with police officers and medical examiners who are attending to any injuries and inspecting the various feathers covering the desks and floor. Vera is perched on the edge of a table that she'd brushed clean with her hand. Swinging her legs back and forth, she tries in vain not to listen to the conversation that Allison is having with her father a mere few feet away, but her brain is like a magnet for picking up any talk about the supernatural.
"Dad, the deer and now this?" Allison questions under her breath as Chris Argent meticulously bandages a cut on the back of her hand. "It can't be a coincidence."
Vera shares a knowing look with Stiles, who sits on the desk beside her with his hands clasped in his lap and thumbs tapping anxiously. Allison knows it, too– something strange is going on in Beacon Hills. Again.
Their conversation attracts the attention of Stiles' dad, the sheriff. He approaches the Argents with caution, a deep rivet between his brows and the wrinkles on his forehead becoming more pronounced as he inquires, "Mr. Argent, you wouldn't have any insight into this, would you?"
"Me?" Argent repeats, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. He plays the innocent card well; after so many years of being a werewolf hunter, he's good at feigning oblivion to everything supernatural that transpires. There's a small frown that pulls down his lips and carves lines into his goatee. Even his sky-blue eyes hold a glimmer of perplexity in them.
"Yeah," Sheriff Stilinski confirms with a nod. "All this bizarre animal behavior— you must have seen something like this before, right?"
"I'm not sure why I would or why you would think I would," Argent responds with a confused yet polite smile on his face that shows a flash of perfect teeth.
There's a brief, awkward pause. Sheriff Stilinski breaks it by saying, "I'm sorry. I – I could've sworn I overheard my son talking about how you were an experienced hunter."
Argent's gaze flickers over the man's shoulder to Stiles, who conveniently hangs his head at the exact same time. "Ah, right. Well, not anymore."
Sheriff nods in understanding before turning to an unusually quiet Allison. "You alright?"
"Yeah," she replies in a barely audible voice, focused on her twiddling thumbs.
It doesn't sound very convincing. However, Stiles' father is well-acquainted with teenagers and knows when not to push something, so he gives her another nod and turns back toward the mess of birds on the tile.