Edge of the picnic. Start of picnic.
Stiles had help set up the picnic with the other slaves, making sure everything was in the right place and cleaned, and now everything was done the human wasn’t sure what to do. He wasn’t a werewolf so he wouldn’t be going on the run, not like Isaac which got Stiles thinking. Isaac was a werewolf so he knew how Derek felt during the moon or any other time. Isaac knew important gestures like biting the neck and scenting. Stiles didn’t know anything like that. And then his mind turned to Allison who was female and had already talked to Derek about having his babies which would be werewolves. Making the pack grow even more. Allison had been the golden child of the camps as she seemed to be perfect at everything. Stiles wasn’t really good at anything nor could he have Derek’s babies. Which left the human questioning what his purpose was. Out of the three slaves he was the least useful one.
The human sat in the grass off to the side with a bottle of water in hand as he watched and thought. His free hand was idly plucking at the grass under him, his eyes not really focused on anything, his face set into a soft frown.