𝘈𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘴 ➳𝘚.𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘪
Griffin Dunbar was under the impression that he would peak in high school, and he was alright with that. But when his usual carefree attitude is challenged by monsters and boss fights, he starts to worry.
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
➺
He was meant to be home in an hour to play lacrosse with David. Griffin's heel thundered up and down, as if willing the coyote to make their job easy by strolling up to them. "Anyone else thinking that we might be doing more harm than good," Lydia, whom Griffin had never talked to before the drive over, folded her manicured hands.
"We're trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter." Scott was obviously the guy in charge, Griffin decided. Well, according to Stiles he was the 'alpha', so he supposed it made sense.
"Actually, we're trying to keep a guy from killing a coyote who is actually his daughter, who we don't know how to change from a coyote back to his daughter." Issac leaned against Stiles' Jeep, ignoring the glare shot his way.
"And again with the not helping." Despite the fact that Issac could easily rip his throat out, Stiles pushed him off of the car.
"Guys," Griffin finally managed the courage to speak up. "I appreciate being included, but why the hell am I here?"
"Yeah, why are you here?" Griffin turned to Issac, pushing his hair back and pulling on his hat.
"I just fucking asked that, moron."
"I could rip your head off of your shoulders, Dunbar."
"Please do, if it means I won't have to listen to your whiny voice anymore."
"Issac," Scott gave him a pointed look, "look, Griffin. Deaton still isn't positive on what you are, but that doesn't mean we can't try and figure it out on our own. You could help us find Malia, you could save her life."
"Jesus, Scott don't stroke his ego. If you wanna leave, go." Stiles looked Griffin in the eye, scoffing proudly when the blonde stayed where he was.
The voices around him started to muffle as Griffin lolled his head against a tree. Groaning under his breath, party in annoyance and partly in response to a growing headache, Griffin tuned back in to his surroundings as Stiles talked into his phone.
"-What the hell is so important about the doll?" After a long pause, Stiles focusing intently on what whoever was on the line spoke into his ear, realization spreading across his features. "It's the doll."
Griffin looked between Stiles and Lydia, now suddenly the only other two in the clearing. "What's the doll?" He mouthed to the strawberry-blonde, being met with a bored shrug.
"It's the doll?" Stiles hung up the phone, "what the hell are you still doing here, Griffin? Go help find Malia."
"What am I supposed to do when I find her, teach her tricks?"
"Lead her to Allison or whatever," Griffin was puzzled by Stiles' dismissive tone. But with a shrug he turned to leave, growing increasingly irritated as he realized that he was dragged to the middle of the woods only to immediately be abandoned.
As he continued his trek, shoulders slumped and holes forming at the ends of his pants from catching on weeds, Griffin half heartedly called out for Malia. "Here, doggy. You'll get a treat if I'm fully intact when I get home."
After being met with dead silence, suddenly the hairs on his arms stood, a shiver running down the teen's spine as he quickly straightened his posture. He whipped his head around, trying desperately to figure out what caused the shift in the air around him. A shrill shriek cut through the atmosphere. There was no doubt that it was Issac, and he couldn't have been more than a few yards away.
Against his better judgement, Griffin willed his legs the run to wherever he thought the scream came from. His lungs started to ache, but his legs continued pumping forward until he burst through a few trees and onto a scene he probably wasn't meant to be on.
The first thing he noticed was the blue-eyed coyote next to him, sharp canines on display. But was he looked up he was more concerned of the man with a gun pointed at his stomach. "What the fuck," his whispered under his breath, eyes darting to movement behind the trees. A dart wedged itself into the man's, no, Mr. Tate's neck. Griffin watched in slight horror as he kneeled down forcefully and laid back onto the tree.
He watched Allison look at him, then turn to yell behind her. Suddenly he remembered the coyote, now no where in sight. He continued his run, she couldn't be far now. "Malia," he called into the distance, the sound of bustling leaves turning him off course towards the river.
He was growing exhausted, even if he was an athlete he hadn't run this much in months. But luckily, soon he can to a skittering halt, seeing Scott look down on a brunette in the place of the coyote.
➺
A/N Did not proofreading just happy to get a chapter out lol
