I haven't made it out there. The local yokels don't speak highly of the woods. [ Which should be why he goes out there, eventually. They all need to know just what down they've been dropped in, a town with a closed circuit system, complete strangers and memories that crop up out of nowhere.

He silently chastises her with his eyes, a question about their lives before. Careful, Malia. But, he can play a game of double entendre. With less dirty implications. Please, she's eighteen. Also a joke, yes, but she isn't Elena. ]

I grew up in a quaint small town, a town very into its own history. There were weekly events, just like this, although the ones I remember were more all out and less, after thought, but, what can you do after a freak hail storm? [ The wind kicks up only slightly, further illuminating their ominous conversation. But, yes, Malia. He grew up in a town much like this town. Smaller, though. Not that he can tell her that. He does make a note to try something with her at a later date. Werewolves are usually impervious to their mind tricks, he wonders if that's true of her. After all, her rules don't match up. ] The hospital's a part of life. Friends. Frenemies. Everyone ends up there at some point.

[ Sometimes to die, usually not for them.

Liz did die. ]