When they cross the boundary into Hale territory, Stiles shifts a little in his sleep, shoulders hunching. Lydia's immunity carries over into most of the supernatural world: she can't be bitten, she can't be poisoned, and she's never been able to do magic on her own. Unlike Stiles, she can't feel the veil that separates Beacon Hills from the rest of the world. Sometimes she wonders if what happened before they left would have turned out differently if she'd undergone some transformative alchemy, but usually she tries not to think about it at all.

"It's tough rattling around the house all by myself," the Sheriff says. "You boys are coming to dinner on Sunday nights from now on. Erica, too. You look like you could some feeding up. Do you eat anything aside from pie?" "Yes?" Derek says. He's not really sure how they ended up here, or how all that pie went so fast.

After the tranquil bamboo house on Qing Jing Peak and Luo Binghe’s splendid, demonic mansion, Shen Qingqiu definitely finds sleeping on a futon cradling a cheap dakimakura to be a downgrade.