Changing Patterns

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Stiles dabs a rag over Isaacs forehead, his pointer finger and thumb pinching the pups nose. Isaac swats away Stiles's hand, who cocks a knowing brown as the others nose scrunches at the smell of rubbing alcohol. Isaac captures the humans wrist lightly -the only one who's ever been gentle with his human status- Stiles's hand is brought to the werewolf's nose again. The human laughed at the notion, pinching his pups nose again as he rubbed away the dried blood of a healed cut.

Deaton, along with derek, Scott, Peter, and whoever else was standing around at the top of the stairs were talking about the creature. Stiles hadn't cared to stay up there when he could listen and work at the same time. Deaton spoke softly in an attempt to not rial anyone who heard the news.

"A golumn, I think. I've never actually seen one, but this mess I have." Deaton answers.

"But- golumn's are supposed to be like big, broody, simple looking people things aren't they." Scott's voice chimes lightly, which stiles is sure earned a head shake from Deaton half way through.

Stiles placed down the rag and stood from his spot on the stairs, starting up only a couple before coming into sight. "Golumn's are clay, crafted creatures. Normally made by humans..." stiles looks to Deaton.

The man nods with a light smile. "That's correct." His hand offering for stiles to continue as he climbs the stairs.

"Golumn's can be crafted to look like anything -if you know what it looks like first- their made of clay, sometimes cement, or metal." The 19 year old leans against the top post.

"And rarely wood too." Deaton starts. "Well, fully of wood I mean. All golumn's have wood in them. The wood," the man picks a grey and black covered stick from the mud. "Has to be enchanted wood. Like the Nematon, or~" the now cleaned stick is presented. "Mountain ash."

"Okay, but why would someone make this thing?" Scott asked almost furious.

"Why would it be in Stiles's room?" Derek growls out a more important question with Scott flushing slightly as the overlap of his own question.

Deaton kicks at a know ruined shirt in the mud. Him face and scrunching with a grimace. "His scent apparently."

"My shirt from last night." Stiles answers slowly. Again eyes turned to him. Deaton's eyes particularly, they looked sad and almost scared as he looked over Stiles's features.

"Well I would take percussion. To be sure that if more come you'll be safe."

    "And again, why would someone make this?" Scott persisted.

    "I can only assume this was a practice dummy, to see if the golumn's could handle simple tasks." Deaton answered clearly, a nod following. Scott sighed and crossed his arms.

    "Can anyone tell me the shape that this Golumn was?" The vet turned only his head as his body was still directed toward stiles.

"A werewolf." Isaac answers popping up at the top of the stairs, the wolfs around grimace and give him weird looks. "Not real one's- like the ones from Harry Potter, umm- name?" The eighteen year old snapped his fingers turning to stiles for help.