[ The good-natured mood Derek had been in is fizzling out. He's pointedly not looking at Tate, taking another sip from his beer, staring ahead into darkness. Lightly, he shakes his head, and he just... repeats himself. ]

You'll find out later. Can't tell you all my secrets.

[ Again, he trusts Tate, but. Wolfsbane is a pretty hard topic to breach. Suffice to say, he doesn't look all that worried about Tate tripping over werewolf poison any time soon. He finally looks back at Tate, arching one eyebrow, and just like his good mood, the steadily rising possessiveness is - maybe not fading, but being dutifully stowed away in the back of his head where he can spend another night trying not to think about it. ]

Besides - there aren't any hunters here. I've been alert for months. I don't think you'll have to worry about that.