Derek waits as Stiles goes in, senses extended to catch as much of the conversation as possible. He does find out more than Derek had in his earlier, enraged invasion of the coffee house, but it's still not much. Not enough, and he's pacing on the sidewalk when Stiles returns, passersby giving him a wide and nervous berth as he bites back on a frustrated growl.
"Of course it's weird. Their scent's no place but the door handle. Not inside, not down the street, not like they came and left in a car, like... like someone just rubbed their scent on the door and walked away," he rumbles, turning and bouncing a fist off the hood of the jeep. "They're taunting me." He stops, head bowed and breathing shallow as he tries to get himself back under control--it's definitely not hard to see why he was banned from the shop earlier. "Yes. Let's... anywhere they went regularly. Anywhere they... they like." Not liked. Not past tense, because they're not dead.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-02-13 04:16 am (UTC)"Of course it's weird. Their scent's no place but the door handle. Not inside, not down the street, not like they came and left in a car, like... like someone just rubbed their scent on the door and walked away," he rumbles, turning and bouncing a fist off the hood of the jeep. "They're taunting me." He stops, head bowed and breathing shallow as he tries to get himself back under control--it's definitely not hard to see why he was banned from the shop earlier. "Yes. Let's... anywhere they went regularly. Anywhere they... they like." Not liked. Not past tense, because they're not dead.