For My Flesh Had Turned to Fur, and My Thoughts Had Turned to You

Chapter 2

While the Hale territory is large, it only takes Derek half a day to reach his destination. As a wolf, he must hunt for food and find shelter, since he hadn’t taken any sort of provisions with him. It’s easier that way, not having to worry about clothing and gear. It’s also freeing. Derek loves transforming, running around as a wolf, letting his instincts take over as he roams his territory. He doesn’t get to do it as often as he’d like for as long as he’d like, so he’s thankful to his mother and alpha for giving him the opportunity.

He knows it’s not good to stay in this form for long periods of time; the longer he stays as a wolf, the harder it will be for him to transform back to his human self, but he does not believe that is something he’ll have to worry about. At most it will take him a few weeks to scout out the pack, locate the witch, and watch them long enough to determine if they’re a danger. Talia was adamant that he was to do nothing but observe, only interacting with the other pack if he had no other choice because of risk, danger, or self-defense. He has no desire to interact with this other pack, and he doesn’t plan on disobeying his alpha.

Derek finds a small cove near a stream to rejuvenate. Tufts of grass and leaves litter the ground, and a nearby row of bushes hide a few rabbits. After catching the rabbits and eating his fill, he laps up water from the stream, sticking his muzzle and paws in to clean them. Satisfied, he retreats to the cove and curls up in it to take a nap.

He’s only asleep for a few minutes when his ears perk up at a strange noise uncommon to his forest surroundings. He can’t quite make out what it is, too far away to clearly identify it, but it’s loud enough to his heightened senses to cause him to stir, becoming more alert. He stretches before padding out of his burrow and towards the direction of the sound.

As he gets closer, it sounds like someone is muttering as they pace to and fro. It’s not until he’s twenty feet away or so, hiding in the cover of a few bushes and trees, that he sees the person making all the noise.

A tall, thin, gangly boy with pale skin, a smattering of moles on his face, and short brown hair walks from one tree to another, waving his hands and arms around as he does. He looks young, but maybe only a few years younger than Derek, a teenager most likely. He’s wearing jeans and a red pullover hoodie, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows, although they keep falling down his arm as he waves them about. Derek can only pick out a few words the boy says, as he’s talking very fast and low. It’s not until he distinctly hears the word magic that Derek ventures out of his hiding spot and closer to the boy in hopes to understand what he’s saying. He is careful, avoiding any twigs or branches as he stalks to a set of trees only a few feet away from the teen.

“--Oh and hey by the way, Scott, I think maybe I’m magical? God, I can’t say that. How am I supposed to deal with this?! I’m supposed to be the regular old human in the pack. And fucking Deaton is no help.” The teen lowers his voice, “‘Well, Stiles, until your magic fully manifests itself, I cannot determine what you are or how to assist you.’ Awesome. Thanks Deaton. Great advice. So I’m just supposed to wait it out?! Meanwhile I’m accidentally floating in my room and blowing shit up in the kitchen. I can’t afford to replace another appliance before my dad notices.” He runs his long fingers through his hair and pulls.

Derek follows him with his eyes as he continues talking to himself. The rumors had been true, this young, potential (by the sounds of it) witch is still inexperienced in how to control his powers or even what his powers are. Near one of the trees by the teen, Stiles he heard him call himself, is a small stack of books, familiar enough to Derek that he knows they’re probably from the emissary, Deaton. The one on top is open, the pages rustling slightly with a breeze every now and then.

“--And then all he gives me are books, and they aren’t even helpful because half of them are in a language I don’t even know.” The teen stops in his pacing and lets out a loud groan, flopping to the ground.