[ Suppressing the faint guilt he feels at having inadvertently dragged someone else into this mess (mostly, he’s just relieved not to be alone anymore), Stiles reluctantly returns to the table. The advice from the other man is solid, though it seems almost impossible to heed as he stares into the boar’s black, beady eyes. There’s no way he can turn his thoughts off, or even redirect his mind to something safer; Stiles simply isn’t wired to do so. With a shudder, he breathes in through his mouth and does as the demon instructs, sliding his hand back inside the open slit cut through the pig’s belly to scoop out more entrails. His stomach flip flops. ]

Talk, [ he says suddenly, glancing at the stranger pleadingly. ] About anything. Sports. I’ll even talk about sports at this point. Man, those San Jose Giants, huh? They…I have no idea, I know nothing about sports. Lacrosse. You ever play lacrosse?