At his clearly incredulous questioning of the size of the creature, Alec gives Jacob the exasperated look of a man who has too many cocky siblings that he has to browbeat into taking threats seriously on a near-constant basis, for his own sanity if nothing else. "It's a demon. It doesn't have to be big to do damage." And besides, he has absolutely no idea the sheer volume of backup Jacob is bringing to bear on the clearing; at most he assumes it'll be three or four other wolves, certainly not the two entire shifter packs as well as an abnormally large coven of vampires.
As much as the Nephilim know about the supernatural world, meticulously gathered information from study and experimentation passed down through the generations of Shadowhunters, their numbers have dwindled enough over the last couple centuries that they simply can't keep active control over territories too far away from their last sizable base of operations all the way in New York City. It was only after the devastation had totally ended that they even found out anything had been happening in Seattle when the vampire army was forming, and all recent attempts to rebuild the old abandoned information networks on this side of the country to prevent any repeats of that terrible oversight have run into the tiny little issue of Nephilim having long ago alienated most supernatural species that are now actually populating the area by assigning themselves judge and jury and, importantly, executioners of the non-human world.
Not that Alec's generation was there for any of that, as quickly as Nephilim live and die in their line of work. In fact now a tenuous truce in NYC even keeps Shadowhunters and Vampires and all manner of other supernatural folk (warlocks and fae and shifters and etc) from coming to blows over anything but grievous threats to the human populous, so the Nephilim are left to deal mostly just with the demons that they were originally tasked to contain, by the Angels back in antiquity before the rest even came to light.
Which is why Alec is here following the one kind of creature he has any practical experience hunting, stumbling through the undergrowth and, oh. Getting stopped from eating shit by a very warm, very strong hand on his arm.
Damn. He never thought he'd miss the loud, dingy streets of NYC quite so much as he does right now: even Central Park is relatively easy to traverse he thinks, as he watches the log fall away and realizes how much tripping through it would have sucked.
Which is about the only thing that keeps him from spontaneously combusting at Jacob's suggestion. Out of a dwindling sense of self-preservation, he tries to force himself not to picture... anything, relating to the particular choice of words. He almost succeeds. It will probably haunt him later, when he's not in the middle of an emergency situation. "I— okay. Fine." That definitely came out squeakier than he meant for it to, but obviously they don't have time for him to figure out how to hike competently when a 16-year-old might be actively putting himself in a dangerous situation right now basically at Alec's insistence. He clears his throat. "You're going to change back?"
no subject
As much as the Nephilim know about the supernatural world, meticulously gathered information from study and experimentation passed down through the generations of Shadowhunters, their numbers have dwindled enough over the last couple centuries that they simply can't keep active control over territories too far away from their last sizable base of operations all the way in New York City. It was only after the devastation had totally ended that they even found out anything had been happening in Seattle when the vampire army was forming, and all recent attempts to rebuild the old abandoned information networks on this side of the country to prevent any repeats of that terrible oversight have run into the tiny little issue of Nephilim having long ago alienated most supernatural species that are now actually populating the area by assigning themselves judge and jury and, importantly, executioners of the non-human world.
Not that Alec's generation was there for any of that, as quickly as Nephilim live and die in their line of work. In fact now a tenuous truce in NYC even keeps Shadowhunters and Vampires and all manner of other supernatural folk (warlocks and fae and shifters and etc) from coming to blows over anything but grievous threats to the human populous, so the Nephilim are left to deal mostly just with the demons that they were originally tasked to contain, by the Angels back in antiquity before the rest even came to light.
Which is why Alec is here following the one kind of creature he has any practical experience hunting, stumbling through the undergrowth and, oh. Getting stopped from eating shit by a very warm, very strong hand on his arm.
Damn. He never thought he'd miss the loud, dingy streets of NYC quite so much as he does right now: even Central Park is relatively easy to traverse he thinks, as he watches the log fall away and realizes how much tripping through it would have sucked.
Which is about the only thing that keeps him from spontaneously combusting at Jacob's suggestion. Out of a dwindling sense of self-preservation, he tries to force himself not to picture... anything, relating to the particular choice of words. He almost succeeds. It will probably haunt him later, when he's not in the middle of an emergency situation. "I— okay. Fine." That definitely came out squeakier than he meant for it to, but obviously they don't have time for him to figure out how to hike competently when a 16-year-old might be actively putting himself in a dangerous situation right now basically at Alec's insistence. He clears his throat. "You're going to change back?"