Eye of the Hurricane ▸ Scott McCall (2)

xxii. MORE HARM THAN GOOD

xxii. MORE HARM THAN GOOD

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        They were coated in darkness, running blindly in search of their friend who was seemingly no where to be seen. Both Foster and Stiles were stained with dirt, seeing that they crawled into a coyote's den. From what Foster could tell, the animal that she, Scott, and Stiles spotted wasn't necessarily a werewolf, but a coyote. A werecoytoe? If those were even real. Then again, it's Beacon Hills, who knows what's possible.

        Once they ended up spotting the creature, though, Scott took off, leaving the two teenagers who are spiraling into insanity on their own.

        They stumbled on the rough terrain, leaves crunching underneath their feet as they ran through the crisp and chill night air. It nipped at Foster's skin, her blonde hair flying behind her as she and Stiles searched high and low for their friend.

        Then, all of a sudden, her body was colliding into a much larger one, the teenage girl letting out a scream of fear. Who knew who or even what was running through these woods, Stiles letting out a scream behind her as well while a strong pair of arms encircled her body, pulling her toward them.

        It was then when she looked up, Scott McCall standing in front of her. She let out a sigh of relief, swatting her arm in frustration.

        "You scared the hell out of me!" she cried out, Scott glancing down at her sheepishly.

        Grinning, he spoke, "Sorry."

        She huffed, muttering, "Next time don't run out into the middle of the woods, okay?"

        He chuckled down at the girl. "Promise."

        From behind them, Stiles cleared his throat awkwardly, cutting in, "Now that that's over, I think we found something."

        Foster pulled herself out of Scott's grip, turning to face Stiles as well.

        Looking toward his best friend, Scott added on, "So did I."

        And with that, they were back tracking. All three teenagers had found something that could have been of use. . . well, if you considered a coyote den important. But that wasn't necessarily the point as to why the den stuck out to Stiles and Foster, it was the fact that the blue jacket of Malia Hale that was in the photo Stiles took was inside. 

        And of course, Stiles being Stiles, wanted to investigate farther, knowing that there is most definitely more to the story than just a family being attacked by a werewolf. Things aren't usually that simple in Beacon Hills. In fact, simple isn't a word that should even be used in Beacon Hills at this point.

        Stiles crouched down in front of the familiar rock opening, shining his flashlight within the space. He then crawled in, Scott and Foster quick to follow. In a way, Foster felt bad for invading an animal's home like this, but then again, they were trying to help Sheriff Stilinski solve one last case while he was still with a job. 

        It turned out that Agent Dickhead, Scott's father, decided that he would make it his life's mission to impeach Sheriff Stilinski. Foster already thought Scott's father was a douche, but this basically just sealed it all up.

        Allowing the beam of light to fall upon the young girl's belongings inside, Stiles explained, "It's a coyote den."

        "Werecoyote."

        Foster glanced over toward the boy beside her, realizing that he must have seen something they didn't while chasing after the animal. She knew that she saw a faint, blue glow to the eyes, but it could have been a trick of the light. So, now they have a werecoyote on their hands on top of being what is considered clinically insane.