The bright sun greeted his eyes, the sound of an annoying bird reaching his ears and pulling him from sleep. As much as he didn’t like it, it was morning and alphas couldn’t sleep forever. His eyes moved to spy the black crow on the window sill. Weren’t they some sort of sign for death? Perhaps if he had actually stopped to listen to Stiles’ rambling once in a while, he’d have a better answer for that. It didn’t matter much once the bird took flight, taking it’s grating, shrill cry with it out into the woods.
He rose as his muscles cried out from all the training he had put his wolves through the day prior. The alpha pack was coming, there was no time to dally about, wasting days with teenage drama as his wolves were so apt to do. No, he trained them hard any chance he got. Today, he had tasked himself with the pleasure of checking on Scott and Stiles. The former generally avoided training, having not accepted he was part of the pack yet and the latter often kept to books, Internet and junk food. Sadly, Stiles would be a target when they came, whether he was human or not and the alphas wouldn’t even bat an eye at the thought of killing him.
Derek Hale dressed quickly, opting to leave his leather jacket in favour of the warm Beacon Hills weather. He wasn’t a fan of dying of heat or of the mass amount of sweat that course of action might lead to. Moments later, he was out the door and on his way to his first stop, whichever one of them was home.