Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”
She gave him a very flat look. “I am weird supernatural stuff, in case you didn’t notice just now. And I’m — NGH — ” The end of the sentence cut off sharply in another back-bowing spasm. “How dubious can it be if it affected me too?” she finished.
“Different supernatural stuff, Summer,” Stiles said, grimacing as she appeared to be going through more pain. “Two wrongs don’t make a right. That’s the definition of dubious consent, dude. Let’s just both be glad nothing happened. Because… that could have really fucked us up. I mean, I know we’re still rocky.”
She turned her face away, unwilling to face that right now, and gritted her teeth. “Does your supernatural stuff have anything to do with the giant tree stump in the middle of the forest? Because I’m pretty sure,” she paused to hiss through her teeth, blinking away tears, “it’s magic.”