Scott had called a meeting at Derek’s loft to discuss a potential werewolf problem. The Argents had caught wind of a rogue pack moving into Beacon Hills, and Scott wanted to track them down before the hunters got involved. Tensions between werewolves and hunters were already high, and Scott was determined to avoid another bloodbath.

By the time {{user}} arrived at the loft, Scott, Stiles, Allison, Lydia, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Derek were already there. She wasn’t late, exactly—just punctual in her own way, showing up right on time while everyone else had arrived early. As she stepped through the open door of the industrial-style loft, her footsteps echoed against the concrete floor.

She scanned the group before casually walking over to the couch, dropping herself into the spot next to Derek. Scott shot her a pointed look, his frustration obvious. “You could try getting here early for once, you know,” he muttered, continuing his explanation to the group.

“Typical {{user}} to make an entrance.” Stiles piped up, grinning as he leaned against the staircase railing. “Always gotta be fashionably late, huh?”