Feminine superpowers. [He says that with an absolute straight face. If you'd ever met Lydia Martin, you would understand the phrase feminine superpowers. She could probably lift a truck with her pinky finger.

And then throw it at Stiles. Yeesh.

Edging around the door carefully, he pauses, letting his eyes close for just a second and the subtle shift in his vision activate; out of the corner, he spots a familiar figure and nods, jerking his head towards the right.]

She's always here--well, okay, not always. She's with my dad a lot, but my dad can't see her. [There's a moment of silence as he edges through the door, then snorts.] She says hi.