The Rebirth of a Hunter | Superwolf

Oh Deer

one

The first time Lacey met Stiles, was after she had dug herself out of her grave. He screamed 'holy shit' and fainted shortly after. Lacey panicked and ran into the woods, not sure where she was or what year it was. Eventually she was found by Stiles and his best friend Scott, who took her to meet a man named Deaton. When Lacey told them her story, she had expected them to call her crazy and send her away to some hospital. But instead Stiles muttered 'what's next? freaking edward cullen' whilst Deaton explained what year she had woken up in.

Everything after that was a blur. She moved in with Scott, was educated on the modern world she had woken up in and began training herself. Scott was more than comfortable to tell Lacey about being a werewolf and after her small freak out, she explained how she was trained to be a hunter. Lacey started training again after Scott had told her all the trouble they had faced during their sophomore year of high school. Her knowledge of the supernatural brought the three together and they became close friends. Lacey spent nearly every moment of every day with them.

"Boy, it's a good thing you drew me a picture."

Scott, Stiles and Lacey were downtown at a tattoo parlour; Scott decided he was going to get a tattoo. Stiles had tried talking Scott out of it, but had no luck. Stiles then tried to get Lacey to talk Scott out of getting a tattoo but his plan backfired once they found out Lacey already had a tattoo.

"Hey, Scott, are you sure you don't want something like this?" Stiles held up a drawing of a lizard-man which Lacey guessed referenced to the Kanima they had faced. "Too soon? Yeah."

"I don't know, man, are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent you know?" Stiles was still determined to convince Scott to not get the tattoo.

"I'm not changing my mind." Scott replied bluntly.

"Okay, but why two bands?" Stiles asked. "I was wondering the same thing." Lacey agreed.

"I just like it." Scott shrugged his shoulders.

"But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning, you know, or something?"

"Getting a tattoo means something." Scott and Lacey informed, speaking in unison which creeped both of them out.

"I don't think that's-" Stiles started.

"They're right, tattooing goes back thousands of years. The tahitian word "tatua" means "to leave a mark." Like a rite of passage." The tattoo artist cut Stiles off.

"Yeah, you see? He gets it." Scott smiled smugly.

"He's covered in tattoos, Scott, literally." Stiles pointed out rather rudely, earning a slap around the back of the head from Lacey.

"Okay, you ready? You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?" That tattoo artist asked as he sat next to Scott with the needle in his hand.

"Nope."

"I tend to get a little squeamish though, so..." Stiles trailed off, collapsing and hitting his head on the floor.

"Oh my god." Lacey rolled her eyes and tried to haul the lanky boy back onto his feet.

Lacey held Stiles' unconscious body with her arms under his armpits. She shook him and slapped his face a few times until he came around. Unfortunately, he passed out again when he caught another look of the needle but this time Lacey just let him lie on the floor. To pass time, she wondered over to the wall where drawing of tattoos were presented.