triskelespirals:

     _{𝓘f Derek were to delve into the same habit as the native teen, he would have to put him into the same category as the kids that usually caused more trouble than anything else — and generally set out to be a pain in the neck, as well. Fortunately, however, the wolf had no interest in labeling a stranger for something that he might not be, despite his age. There was far too often more to a person than the naked eye could see at first glance. At the very least, the younger had caught onto his words rather quickly and corrected his statement to suit his needs here far better than a mere suggestion for tourists — albeit it did still not entirely give him the information that he desired.}

     _{𝓚illing off the engine of his car entirely, he rose from the seat and exited the vehicle to lock it up with a ‘beep’ of his keys. Without a moment of hesitation, he closed some of the distance between him and the teen, though he did not aim for being intimidating. There was a consistent lack of his characteristic surly attitude here, but all of it was entirely intentional — for now. Derek didn’t see the need to play rough from the get-go if there was a chance to talk the native into openly sharing with him what knowledge he posessed — provided he knew anything at all.}

     _{❝𝓘’m not here to talk about politics, or history. I’m more interested in the legends.❞}

     _{𝓐llowing his gaze to drift down the road that led to La Push and the bordering sea — he could smell the distinctive scent of salt — he recognized how different this place was to Beacon Hills. There was still nature here, wilderness. Something that a wolf craved naturally. Derek ignored it, but his inner predator rose its hackles and scratched at his inner walls with the urge to just run.}

     _{❝𝓗ow much do you know about them?❞}

                                                        <sub>❝—————-❞
                                                                ❝………..❞
                                                                     ❝…❞

                Only a painstakingly long and extended pause is awarded, namely because integrity and righteousness beckoned him like contentment or kinship; any one individual who does not take truth seriously in small matters cannot be trusted in large ones either—he sincerely believed that. And while he liked to garnish his statements with fervent embellishments and elated or more jovial claims to exaggerated success, he abstained from engaging others in deceit. To make friends, he would suggest starting with authenticity in your words. He might not have said it this way, but he would have liked to see more people appreciate the genuine nature of man, and where it leads once it has been endorsed.

Consequently Seth was bound by a contract of reticence and blood,  marked with the animosity and strife of a once very rich civilization. His authority—Sam Uley—advocated for the idea that blood is thicker than water. The phrase was coined by humans to ensure security in their biological family; Seth found—however—that on occasion family is not always in favor of supporting the individual; it is the friends—rather—that never become obsolete.</sub>

       _{After being exposed to the gods and the monsters of his time, he had learned to develop a sort of tolerance to any—supernatural stimulus that could potentially be deemed—-…less than favorable. Perhaps, the company of vampires, or maybe just the threatening glance of golden eyes rimmed with the incessant beckoning of thirst. Either way, he was scared—as a child—listening to the horror stories. The legends. Further still, he became more afraid once he had been made aware of the fact that they were an omnipotent force that governed their world, and the lives of mortals. He became more afraid, when he found out that he–too–was a monster.
                 He had learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, that fear diminishes; knowing what must be done does away with that fear—and above all else, greeting your adversaries with a smile, was more powerful than coming to battle with a blade in hand. Legends —— they were what dictated his every move. How he liked to operate, what made him only fractionally human.} 

                              <sub>❝…I know more about them than you might think.❞

                                        He shoves his hands into his pockets. 
 
                                                   ❝—–Why do you ask… ? ❞</sub>