[It's not the first time Stiles has been manhandled by a long shot. It won't be the last. At least the guy doesn't throw him into the wall or smash his head into anything? Some distant part of his brain that isn't riddled with fear is grateful for that, at least.
He watches the man reach out and tap against a mirror.]
No. [The reflection isn't his friend. It isn't him either. He sees movement from the corner of his eye and turns quickly, but not quickly enough to see where the nogitsune has gone.]
Allison. Allison Argent is my friend. She lives -- she lives on this floor. Have you seen her?
[He turns to face the man again, watches him rub his face.]
no subject
He watches the man reach out and tap against a mirror.]
No. [The reflection isn't his friend. It isn't him either. He sees movement from the corner of his eye and turns quickly, but not quickly enough to see where the nogitsune has gone.]
Allison. Allison Argent is my friend. She lives -- she lives on this floor. Have you seen her?
[He turns to face the man again, watches him rub his face.]
I'm Stiles.