Broken Roots ✵ Derek Hale

Wolf Moon ✵ 1.1

⚲ BEACON HILLS PRESERVE

A veil of fog enshrouded the Beacon Hills Preserve like an eerie cloak. The darkness of the vast forest was broken by the dim headlights of the police department's cruisers. As a dozen deputies stepped out of their vehicles, the sound of their barking and whimpering K9 units mixed with indistinctive radio chatter was only heard in the comotion.

As the Sheriff's deputies continued threading carefully and quickly, their silhouettes emerged from the fog, each step resonating with suspense. Flashlights ignited, casting an alluring glow on the forest floor; the deputies ventured amongst the trees, their minds required to stay as sharp as ever.

⚲ McCALL HOUSE, Beacon Hills

In the dim glow of his room, Scott McCall sat on his bed, shirtless, dressed only in gym shorts. He meticulously re-threaded the laces on his lacrosse stick until they were securely fastened to a point the boy was satisfied with. He flung the lacrosse stick behind him on his bed before stepping towards the bathroom door. Scott executed a series of chin-ups on a pull-up bar mounted on the lintel before disappearing into the bathroom. After brushing his teeth, he started washing his face when a sudden noise outside stopped him and captured his attention, listening for any sign of danger.

"Don't slam the Jeep's door so hard!" Stiles scolded Calista, who shrugged while muttering a soft "Sorry." "He's still not answering his phone," he complained and handed the girl his phone. "Here. Keep calling Scott; I'll try to get him through his window."

"Why don't you just ring the doorbell?" Calista asked as she approached the stairs leading to the porch, while Stiles was already getting his feet up on the low roof.

Meanwhile, in the house, Scott dons a red hoodie and descends down the stairs, grabbing a wooden baseball bat kept by the front door for protection. Quietly, he steps outside, bat firmly in hand, carefully searching for the source of the noise. Calista watches him from the side, analyzing everything from his height and build to his frightened stance, sharp breathing, and chemosignals. Scott takes a step forward, but in a matter of seconds, a figure dangles from the roof. Scott screams in terror and abruptly swings the baseball bat in defense. Calista quickly closes the distance between her and Scott to prevent him from slamming the bat. Scott stops just before the bat hits the hanging man, realizing it's his best friend, Stiles Stilinski, who is screaming back at him.

"Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!" Scott yelled as he lowered the bat.

"You weren't answering your phone!" Stiles mimicked his friend's loud tone. "Why do you have a bat?"

"I thought you were a predator!" Scott stated, adrenaline still running high, annoyance steadily taking its place.

Stiles asked in disbelief, "A pre... Wha?" offended by his friend's suggestion.

Scott looked to his right, finally noticing the girl standing next to him. He jumped back and raised the baseball bat again but kept it in a position behind his head, ready to swing.

"Hi!" the girl chirped.

"Scott! Put the bat down!" Stiles warned, redirecting Scott's attention. "This is my cousin. Don't embarrass me."

"Do you mind introducing us?" Calista urged Stiles.

Stiles nodded his head. "Right. Calista, this is Scott McCall," he pointed to the exasperated boy. "Scott, this is my cousin, Calista Stark!"

"Stiles!" Calista groaned. It took him all of two minutes to forget a long conversation they had when she arrived yesterday. And the one on the ride to Scott's house.

"Sorry. Agent Calista Stark. She's here undercover," her cousin stated matter-of-factly, "so keep that quiet."

"Nice to meet you," Scott smiled and extended his hand, which was shaking due to a mention of undercover work.