the mcall pack · Y/n story by @lIlarris

The Beacon Hills High cafeteria hummed with the usual lunchtime chaos, but at one corner table, the air crackled with a different kind of energy. The pack was gathered, a precarious island of supernatural tension in a sea of oblivious teenagers.

Lydia Martin

elegantly picking at a salad So, if a Banshee's wail can shatter glass, theoretically, could it disrupt an Alpha's transformation? I've been cross-referencing European folklore with modern parapsychological studies.

Scott McCall

wrapping an arm around Kira Maybe we should table the dismemberment theories until after I finish my sandwich.

Kira Yukimura

leaning into Scott with a small, private smile He has a point. My mom says discussing volatile power dynamics on a full stomach is bad for digestion.

Isaac Lahey

stabbing a french fry with unnecessary force Some of us are trying to have a stomach. He glares across the table.

Stiles Stilinski

meets Isaac's glare head-on, a bag of chips frozen halfway to his mouth What's your problem, Lahey? You got a fry with me specifically, or are you just practicing your menacing look for the yearbook?

Malia Tate

bluntly He's been doing that since you sat down. It's inefficient. If you have a problem with him, you should just tackle him.

Allison Argent

sighs, pushing her tray forward Can we have one lunch, just one, that doesn't involve someone suggesting a physical altercation?

The standoff between Isaac and Stiles holds, a silent, bristling war that everyone feels but no one understands. The rest of the pack watches, waiting to see which thread will snap first.