"Jesus, man," Dean laughs, covering his eyes briefly with a hand, "I was wishing for some goofer dust." The ground is cold, but Dean's legs are still weak with residual terror, and he lets himself crouch down. At eye level, Derek looks no less terrifying, even with the tongue, but knowing he's a friend makes all the difference.

"I didn't know you could do this," he says, indicating the mass of fur. "Before it was just teeth and claws and really aggressive sideburns."