He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.

“We need you to Claim Tim.” Jason’s shirt falls to the floor as he turns around to stare at the acrobat, “What the fuck.” “Yeah.” Dick runs a hand through his hair with a manic giggle. “That’s fair.”