Right. [ Stiles lights up when she likes it, and he grins at her affectionately as he starts to make his own, turning his attention towards the marshmallow he's got on a stick, dangling in the fire. ] My dad used to be the head of the Beacon Hills Boy Scouts, so I know all the sick campfire tricks.

[ Tugging his marshmallow out once it's reached an appropriate level of burnt (he's weird like that), Stiles puts together his own s'more, squishing the pieces together properly and eyeing it to make sure it's perfect. ] Consider yourself a convert. Having a good Halloween so far, Heather Solo?