When Stiles woke, his eyes started searching for the wolf almost immediately. There was a soft warmth pressed against his back, one that he could only assume was coming from his friend. Stiles snuggled back a little, enjoying the comforting heat. He would have been content like that for a while if his stomach hadn't started growling. Irritated, he lifted his head from the makeshift pillow, slipping his hand into the bag's lid to rummage through it in search of another muffin. Stiles could feel the wolf starting to move, "Morning sourwolf."

However, when he turned, instead of a big, furry wolf, was an extremely handsome and... half naked man. Stiles jumped away, full of surprise. "Wh-who are you!?" he demanded, raising his arms in a pitiful form of self defense.

The man groaned before rolling over, his back to Stiles, "You're too loud in the morning." he complained.

Stiles was in shock. The wolf would have done something if a stranger came by right? A sort of 'dog territorial' thing. Right? "H-how did you get here? Where did my wolf- THE! Where did the wolf go?" he stuttered, a few unwanted words slipping.

Damn his mouth, always speaking before his brain had a chance to catch up.

The stranger turned back, smiling at him for a moment as he started to sit up, "So I'm your wolf now?" he teased, drawing up a knee and casually resting his arm over it, using the other to support himself as he continued the conversation.

Stiles couldn't find his words. Had this guy just claimed to be his wolf? Like, how was that even-... His head was spinning, filled past breaking point with desperate and half-assed, spur of the moment type theories. The most ridiculous of these ideas being that this stranger could possibly have been some sort of werewolf. How silly was that? "You're... the wolf?" he questioned, crossing his arms doubtfully after mentally crossing off his list of theories.

"Yes."

Well that was blunt... "But- How, I- I mean... you're human." He though it over for a second before turning back and slamming a fist into his palm, a look on his face that signaled a brilliant idea, "I get it. You're just some crazy, escaped mental patient right?" But it didn't make sense for someone like that to be out in the middle of the woods... "Scratch that, maybe you're a hermit or something."

The man shook his head, frowning into his fingers as they soothed the crook of his nose, "Sheep's skin."

"What now?"

"Sheep's skin." he repeated, "The best way to convince the sheep that a wolf is harmless, is to swear a sheep's skin." he gestured to himself. "To blend in."

Stiles frowned, "So this is your sheep's skin then?" he was still in doubt, "How do I know you're really my wolf?" Stiles asked, taking the moment to stand, put a little distance between him and this deranged man. "I still think you're a hermit."

"Where do you think you're going?" he questioned, looking rather insulted.

Stiles was still hesitant, but took a brave step backward. His movements were followed by irritated growls. "I'm not going to hurt you." he assured Stiles, his constant snarling not exactly helping to soothe Stiles' nerves.

"But..." he began, another step backward, "Don't wolves eat the sheep after they've blended in!?"

The stranger was crouching now, his hands propped up on his finger tips with bent knees. He looked ready to attack. Stiles was still frightened. He gripped the hem of his hoodie, trying to distract himself from the angered look on the man's face. "Don't run." he growled, "It's the same as an invitation."

Stiles let out a short lived noise, near a squeal as he took off, his sneakers and tight jeans betraying his speed. Behind him, Stiles could hear the noises of a wolf. The man was crazy! He was chasing after him on all fours, but... he seemed to be springing forward. Leaves were violently kicked up behind him, and the gap between Stiles and this man was shrinking. Shrinking and shrinking until his face hit the ground with a rough thud, a heavy weight over him. Brooding fingers tipped with gnarled claws barred his exit, forming a cage around him.

"I said... notto run!" he snarled.

Stiles wriggled beneath him, managing to flip himself and face this- the man's eyes! They were glowing red... the same as his wolf's eyes. "Sourwolf?"

"Sourwolf?!" he demanded, obviously disliking this.

Stiles stuttered nervously, "Well... I-I don't know what to call you!"

"My name is Derek." he replied, his harsh tone dying down as he calmed himself, "You idiot. You got my wolf excited."

Stiles took deep breaths as he stared up at Derek, who's eyes were slowly dimming down to a creamy green. It looked as if he was at war with himself, trying to hold himself back. Stiles let out a shaky breath. "Derek..." the name sounded weird on his tongue, he almost wished he could get away with Sourwolf, "Can... I get up? I won't run... sorry about that..."

Derek groaned, "No.. you were frightened." he let his head fall to Stiles' neck, sniffing lightly, "you smell good."

He chuckled, "Ahh... thanks?"

"Hm." he hummed in silent agreement, burying his face in Stiles, "I don't think you should be walking in these spooky woods alone..." Derek lifted his head, soft eyes soothing Stiles, "I'll leave my sheep's skin on until I'm sure you trust me."

Stiles nodded silently before moaning in frustration, "Dang it! I left my bag back there..."

The wolf chuckled, pulling on the little red hood as he stood, dragging Stiles up along with him, "Well then," he whispered, "We'd better go get it."