"I'm sorry," Stiles said, blinking. "I must have misheard that. You what?"

"Knit," Peter said blandly, and indeed, there were two long needles that Stiles had at first taken for weapons or ritual tools clacking together, a narrow strip of soft green cloth dangling toward the floor. "It was part of my rehab program at the long term care facility. Jennifer--my nurse--taught me."

"Yeah, before you killed her," Stiles said, and backed out of the room before Peter could decide to find some other purpose for those wickedly sharp chromed needles.