The Pull of The Nemeton (Teen Wolf)

Recognise a few things

Flat on my back on the cheep bed and questionable mattress, I wait for the sun to rise. This night was the anniversary of many things, a year since I watched my aunt brains spray the wall behind her, a year of running and hiding, a year of suppressing the dangers of what I am. Yet as I am lying here I start to feel odd, sitting up I frown and tilt my head to the side. Its the same feeling I've been having for a week or so, but I've ignored it because it didn't feel important. Maybe it is, maybe I have confined myself for long enough but something that is certain is I will go mental if I carry on running from an imaginary fear I will start imagining fear in everything and if that happens you might as well lock me up in a mad house for all the good I will be. Yawning I swing my feet off the bed and stretch my bone tired limbs, trying to get rid of the stiffness that the night of lying still has got me. Standing I make my way over to the shower, trying to find the will not to just give in and let myself sleep, eat, be a normal 17 year old. Looking in the mirror as I rub the water out of my hair with a towel, I can't help but concentrate on the strange power calling me like an old friend. I sigh and bring myself back to the cheap motel and my reflection, I can't do much to alter the dark bags under my eyes you can even see them through make up. My complexion was once had a golden healthy glow to it but now it is as pale as a corpse, my hair is thin and ratty the only redeeming quality of it being that it reaches my waist. I'm not vein but it makes me sad to think how different I could look how much closer to my age I could look, instead I look like a 30 year old chain smoker. I wear baggy clothes because I have no curves to fit them to, you can count my ribs easily and I'm pretty sure my Aunt wouldn't recognise me, let alone my mother. Having got dressed, braided my hair and re-packed, I went to the window that looked down on the car park below and watched as an sleek black comaro rolled into the carpark and a well built dark haired man gets out.
"Thats my ride then" I murmer to myself and pull my bag onto my shoulders get ready to leave.

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The dark haired man walked up the stairs obviously deep in thought, his hands tuning the room key over and over and just as he reached the top of the stairs a pale, weak looking girl made a step to go down them. The girl walked strait into the dark haired man with surprising force knocking him backwards a step and he would have fallen backwards down the stairs had she not grabbed onto the front of his jeans and steadied him. 
"Uh..." she says with a pained look, her eyebrows furrowed as she briefly glances up at his face
"...Sorry" she mumbles with a slight shake of her head and side steps him and carries down the stairs.
"Its... Fine?" He says to the retreating figure and watches her finish the concrete steps before carring on to his room disregarding the encounter while he pulls out he phone, making a decision as the girl walks  toward the parking lot her head bowed and it looking like she was looking at something in her hands. 
“Voicmail great… Cora I know you have probably have lost your phone, sold it or something but I thought I should say..” he starts to say into his phone.
Meanwhile  Avery relays her encounter with the man who's car key she now has, smileing faintly and congratulating herself for not only taking the key from his front, left pocket but also not completely bottling it at the sight of his -really quite ruggedly gorgeous- face. Her smug smile turning into a Cheshire cat like grin at the sight of the sleek black car in front of her, causing her to sigh and not only in reference to the car as she says;
"Oh I love dark things" unlocks the door and slides into the leather interior of the car.

//Avery's POV//
Sighing to myself, I prepare to follow the lazy Californian roads in the general direction of the pulling thing while I ponder what it might actually be; maybe a trap, a natural source of power, guidance from my cut off ancestors, another one of my race or just my mind finally giving in to the stress and solitude and going insane. I weakly snort as I consider that it might actually be nothing and I scold myself for not thinking this through. 
I continue to fight the drowsiness and fight myself on whether or not to turn round and head away from the mystery pulling  am pulled out of my debate on whether or not to just head to other way, when a shout come from outside the car, probably from the owner of this car.
“Punch it” I say with a smirk and speed out of the dirt car park, kicking up dust behind me, but I had to double take when I look into the rear mirror and see glowing ice blue eyes through the dust cloud. The car almost stalls as I hesitate for a second before I speed off shoving my foot down on the accelerator and toward the strange feeling.

The sun is just starting to set as finally reach the strongest source of the power I can reach by road and pull up on the side of the road and just take a breath in the car, still doubting myself and  my decision and whether or not to follow it through. A mechanical bleep startles me out of my thoughts and reminds me, again, how little fuel this car has left. Which sorts my predicament for me, I think grudgingly. I check to see if there is anyone around and turn off the engine, taking the keys from the ignition and opening the door and stepping out into the cold autumn air.
“Torch, I need… a torch” I mumble out loud as I frown into the growing darkness,  stifling a yawn I go round the back of the car and open the boot looking for a torch and after the first shiver I just got a jumper from my back pack.

A mile and a half away in Beacon Hills another teenager starts their way toward the woods to meet with his friend underneath a burnt out building. He already knows he doesn’t have enough time, he can feel the change pulling at his core and the moon continues to rise as he speeds toward the woods, but he had barely got into the tree line before his eyes started to glow red. He managed to get almost half way into the wood before he skidded to a stop, his dirt bike spraying the thick tree trunks in dirt. Almost before he had the engine off he was yanking his helmet off his head and dropping it, the polished plastic dome of it showing a distorted silver disc that the werewolf now looked at in the sky, a look of frustration on his face. He didn’t have to wait long before his internal lunar clock told him he no longer had a choice about the appearance of his face. He cursed himself for not preparing better, the Druid vet for not giving him enough warning about the stronger effects of the moon or the Hales who had the foresight to leave town to lock themselves in motel rooms for not thinking to tell him. He had only got the phone call from his Kitsune friend, whose mother was concerned about what a young alpha would do on a Hunter’s Moon- which gives the animal part of any supernatural more control, eclipsing the human part of the person- that he found out how dangerous the night could be. He had been in a rush since then to get everything ready, his other friends only too happy to help the hunter making absolutely sure everything was set up for the beta and the alpha werewolves, but he still hadn’t had enough time and only hoped that they were somewhere safe and that there was no one else out in the wood. He had time to take one more look at the moon before a roar that shook the leaves far above him, not really knowing that this will be the last thing he remembers till dawn.