Tom frowned down at the stake for a second and then set it beside Peter anyway, as though the other werewolf wouldn't notice. "Been leaving them all around the hotel," he admitted. "I was going to put one at every door but I reckoned that might be overkill."
He watched on with curiosity as Peter mixed up the blessing in the tequila. He didn't know what he was putting in there. "Didn't see any with a worm. Never thought that was real, but I usually drink lager so," he trailed off. Peter was curious. A born wolf. Tom was the closest they'd have to that, where he was from, changed from a baby. He was comfortable with who he was but Peter was a whole different level.
"Hopefully I'm not too drunk to go hunting. How long does this last?" he reached out to take the bottle, taking a long drink. He didn't ask what was in it. He didn't need to; he trusted Peter, even if he didn't know him that well.