Alright lovelies, here we go again! This one is my shortest but it's a teaser as to what's to come. Hope you enjoy, and I really hope you REVIEW! It keeps me going and helps me from getting distracted, because like our dear, beloved Stiles, I too am easily distracted! And I will probably switch between Stiles and the Pack, but I'm going to stay more with Stiles than anything. But Enjoy!

I was able to make if out of that town with very little hassle after that, thankfully. And I now had a pair of boxers and socks; the boxers I would save to use for spare cloth, the socks were a welcomed relief to my toes. But of course, nothing ever comes easy.

Week Two

Escaping the hospital was easy, stumbling upon a hippie retreat and trying to well…retreat from them was another thing entirely; I think I'd rather be tazed again…

I was tired, I mean, bone tired and was walking through a lightly wooded area while the sun slowly set. Ralph had his head free from the confines of my backpack, watching my back, while I trudged onwards. The old stiles would have been mumbling to himself by now, or singing, or something, even hearing your own voice is better than hearing nothing. And what is the point in talking to yourself when you can't hear what you just asked yourself? Anyway, I was slowly making my way through the woods; I mean slowly, I saw a snail pass me a ways back. Or was it a slug, which ones have the shells? Sorry, no Adderall for a long time plus very little food makes Stiles a very odd person, undead thing…I think I look too good to be a zombie…at least I hope I do.

My train of thought was suddenly derailed when I slammed into a very hard, foul smelling thing, which turned out to be a rather handsome guy. If you were into dreadlocks, mousey brown eyes, a chiseled jaw, and could ignore the rather foul smell of BO and something illegal. The guy in question looked as surprised as me, when I bumped into him, but he was very quick to catch me before I fell onto my rump.

'Sorry,' I signed, hoping he would be able to understand sign language. If only it were a requirement in high school instead of Spanish.

He looked at me for a moment then pointed to his throat questioningly. I shook my head and pointed to my ears. His plump lips pursed and he looked at me, it was as if he was stripping me bare. His liquid brown eyes were seeing me and not the faded scars on my face, or the odd way I was standing, favoring my left leg to where I was nearly overbalancing.

'Bummer, hope those scars gave you some epic sights, scars being stories and magnets for the girls and all that,' he signed.

I did fall over then, who would have guessed that a smelly, hot, sexy, did I mention smelly hippie know sign language, there are only a few people in the cities who know it, but maybe my luck is turning if someone in the middle of nowhere knows it….yeah right, it's a nice thought though.

'You ok' he asked, leaning down and peering through his long dreadlocks, cock his head to the side, oh god he was hot.

'Fine', if a little bit mortified by my actions, but hey, no biggie…

'What are you doing around here? You're not a native,' he asked, crouching down.

'Passing through,' I signed, slowly trying to get to my feet.

'Itchy feet,'

'Something like that'

He said while he stood in one fluid motion, it was almost as if one second he was crouched the other he was standing, offering me a hand.

'What did you just say?'

I grabbed it, and with one swift pull I face planted into his rather hard chest, any hormonal urges were killed by the stench, oh my lord, has he never heard of deodorant? I jerked backward and forced a smile onto my face.

'You gotta come and chill with us for a little while.' He said, nodding his head to emphasize the point.

I was unable to say anything in my defense, he captured my right hand and started to drag me through sparse trees and over a painfully large downed tree. I think I sneezed ten to twelve times, my eyes watered, my nose itched, great, allergies. The guy seemed to be laughing at me, if his shaking shoulders and large smile had anything to go by. But I tried to ignore it and focus on what was actually important, which was watching my steps and being aware, because who knew, maybe this hippie wasn't the happy go, everyone is your friend type, maybe he ranked up there with the murderous nuns on a tv show I used to watch with Scott every Halloween.

Scott, the name, the image, him, it hurt. Tears threatened to burn their way down my face, I fought the urge to vomit, Scott was dead to me, because I was dead to him, literally now. So why should it matter, where I was or where he was or anything….damn-it this rag weed, pollen, stuff, making my eyes water.

About four minutes into our trek, the guy finally let go of my arm, he was practically vibrating with happiness.

'What', I couldn't help but ask, wishing that I had the forethought to grab a weapon, a stick, something.

'Welcome, to freedom.' He signed back, his grin was huge, teeth slightly stained yellow, with black spots. Ew. He flung his arms wide and let loose, what I would guess is a whistle or a howl, because suddenly there were a lot of people, I mean, twenty, or two dozen or maybe even more, surrounding me. Ah crap.

Told you it was short, but hey, its going to come, give it time. And I must say adieu for class is about to being and I'm being a bad student and uploading my story. Review and lots of love!