[ are you fucking kidding him, please. dude. p l e a s e. ]

Oh my god, don't face it head on, man, it's gonna trample you to death!

[ gun or no gun, Stiles is pretty sure this guy is toast, or at least preparing for some very painfully cracked ribs after the beetle makes it to him — which is why he lifts his hands and raises the shields he's been keeping up to stop the beetle from knocking down the tree, only this time he raises them not close to him but close to this weird, probably-suicidal stranger. ]

There's shields around you, they'll hold it for a minute! So if you were waiting for the moment to pump it full of lead, this is so that moment.