Derek studied her, frowning--she didn't seem to be shivering, but she wasn't wearing much of, well, anything, and was clearly hugging herself for warmth. The werewolf was only dressed in running clothes. If he'd had a sweatshirt, he would've handed it over.
"Have you been out here all night?" he asked, his tone quickly shifting from territorial to concerned. She clearly posed no threat to him, or the pack. "Are you hurt?" he continued. He wouldn't blame the girl for being wary of him. He'd been...well, he'd been a Master when he'd been at Eterna's, and that, combined with how Stiles no doubt had characterized him meant that he probably was the last person she would trust right now.
He held his hands up, though he knew she knew (if she knew he was a werewolf) that he wouldn't need a weapon to hurt her if she really wanted.
"Did she hurt you?" he repeated. "Do you need help?"
If she was a runaway, it was his duty to return her to Mistress. But somehow, Derek couldn't stomach the thought. Derek wasn't a political person. He did his best to stay out of politics, local or global. And if it had been anyone else on Hale lands, maybe Derek wouldn't be acting the way he was. But the girl was, from what he had gleaned through Stiles' journal, the video, and their conversations, unhappy, and she was Stiles' friend.