Author's Note: Hey guys, so it was late, and I figured, why not write now? anyway, I got better quick, probably because I skipped school for two days, to and slept for like 48 hours. And I just want to give a HUGE thank you to winchesterxgirl, she gave a review, a real, more then one sentence, review. Winchesterxgirl, if you're reading this, I will be explaining why she hates them so much, and your guess on how her gran died was like, right on the dot, sort of. One of the Argent's did, but not Kate.

"Peter had stolen a knife. We were seven years old, and we'd caught a rabbit in a trap. We looked at each other darkly, a look I'll never forget, one of a shared savage thrill, like young wolves taking down their first kill.

A spill of blood issued from the rabbits neck, a quick red streak across pristine white fur, slow enough to be cruel. I hadn't cut deep enough. Had I wanted to spare its life or prolong its misery? I've never wanted to know the answer." ― Sarah Blakley-Cartwright, Red Riding Hood.

Chapter Four

Cuz I eat boy's like a cannibal,
fuck hard,
howl at the moon like an animal.

Eat me,
Drink me.
Straight down the rabbit hole.

The music blasted into her ears, and everything seemed to fall apart, decaying. All thoughts, worries, problems, just melting away. Valerie's feet thumped against the forest floor, she swung around one of the tree's, making a loop. Her body ached, and she could practically hear her bones rust, but she wasn't going to stop after one day of training.

Valerie's bag thumped against her back, and her eyes flipped open, before she'd been running based off sound, trying to strengthen her senses, in some kind of way.

Thump, thump, thump, thump she couldn't tell whether that was the sound of her feet or her heart. But then again, she didn't really care.

There was something standing in the middle of the woods. Valerie squinted. It looked like some kind of black thing, too tall, and not leafy enough to be a tree. What the hell? She kept running, faster, harder, trying to get closer. As it came into full sight, she slammed on her heels. It wasn't a something, it was a someone. Leaf's were not dependable enough. Valerie attempted to hault, her heals digging into the dirt. She skidded into the person, who felt like a wall.

He didn't even flinch, or she. Valerie, however, let out a grunt of pain, her left arm twisting slightly. Like a charlie horse, she could feel the muscles in her arm cringe and tighten, ready to rip at any sudden movement. She'd have ice it later. Damn. And she was left handed, she could barely move a pinky, let alone pick up a pencil for school and write neat.

When Valerie finally managed to look up, staring down at her, body in the glow of the sun, was no other then The Werewolf From The Woods. His eyes narrowed and Valerie's widened, mentally surveying every part of herself. The cloak was in her bag, but there was no way she'd be able to put it on, use it, and then keep her identity a secret. When she got the chance, she'd snake her hand in the bag and grab her knife.

"I thought I said this was private property?" his tone was sharp and accusing. Valerie's head shot up in surprise, had she really ran that far into the woods? Shit, what time was it? Crap crap crap crap Valerie repeated in her head, fishing through her bag, trying to find her watch. It wasn't there. Damnt.

Valerie eventually realized it was dead silent, and she could feel his breath. She looked up at him, eyes wide, and for a minute, she could of sworn he wasn't a monster. He was just standing there, eyes softening, brow scrunched up. And then he clenched his hands, and she watched all his muscles tighten, which he had quite a lot of, and he was the monster again. Valerie felt naked under his gaze, rocking back and forth on her heel.

"Its eight thirty" The Werewolf stated, cocking his head, like he could read her mind. Suddenly, thoughts of Twilight burst into her head, and Valerie had to disguise her chuckle as a cough. But even then, her lips turned down. She was late, second period had just started, and when she did eventually show up at school, she'd have to enter the class room, and face everyone's stares.

And then he started walking, and she followed. Valerie didn't know what else to do, she couldn't go home, her dad would make her go back to school. That's when it hit her. He should be dying, a coughing, splayed out mess. In the foggy haze of the morning, she'd forgotten to put on her perfume. Her steps faltered, and she almost fell on him. He'd come to a stop.

Valerie stood on her tip toes, peeking over his large shoulder. They stood in front the most gorgeous car Valerie'd ever seen. A sleek, black, Camero. She found herself inching forward, lightly touching the bumper, mouth open in an 'o' of awe. Her parent's never really loved fancy things, one of the reasons they didn't enjoy Grandma Tabitha's house, and so Valerie'd grown up around soccer mom cars.

"So, where am I taking you?" His voice was an annoyed purr, his eyebrow raised. Valerie said nothing. Her back was completely staight, and her nimble fingers toyed with a loose thread, biting her lip.

This seemed to anger him more, and Valerie was a nervous wreck. What if he thought she was ignoring her? What if he knew she was a hunter? What if he was driving her to somewhere so he could kill her, and then hide the body, without all the fuss? After what she read in Grandma Tabitha's bestiary, or well more like a diary, she wasn't sure she could trust anyone in Beacon Hills. Something in the back of Valerie's head told her to keep that in mind, keep to herself, because once the element of surprise was gone, Valerie was screwed.

"Silent treatment? I almost forgot you were still a kid" that stung a bit, though she wasn't sure why.

Valerie shook her head wildly, hair going everywhere, she was so wound up that her knee's shook. He stared at her for what felt like months before starting up the car. The werewolf didn't say anything until the end of the ride.

He pulled up in front of her house, and Valerie didn't move, eyes wide. How did he know where she lived? Even if it shouldn't, even if the thought physically made her cringe, the idea that the werewolf knew which house was hers, comforted her. What if the Argent's moved in for the kill and stole the cloak? The werewolf might find out and avenger her.

Valerie felt childish just thinking it.

"Look, you can hate me all you want, but can I atleast get your name?" he tried to play it off, act casual, like he didn't care, but Valerie didn't even care. Her head bobbed and she smiled a little. She had an answer for this. She turned, and opened her bag, pulling out a small leather bracelet. Her hand brushed the knife, but for some reason, she didn't pull it out. Valerie decided not to. Not that she would ever admit that.

Valerie was woven through the leather in a pink string.

"Well Valerie, your welcome, maybe next time you can explain to me why you so constantly insist on running through my property" He spoke as if he knew the answer to the question already, like he was accusing her of something. It confused Valerie to no end, but she forgot about it, stepping out of her car, bag slung over her shoulder.

Her dad's car was in the drive way. Shit. She could see him through the glass window. He was on the couch going through some paperwork, luckily facing away from her. But the werewolf was behind her. The only way to get inside without him seeing was her balcony.

Valerie looked back, giving the werewolf a little wave, as if trying to rush him to leave. He did not. After a second of uncomfortably standing there, Valerie gave up. She pulled her arm all the way back and flung the bag up onto the deck thump she flinched, eyes slowly moving to check on her dad.

The television was on, a football game. Good. He wouldn't hear her at all. She let out a couple shaky breaths, trying to regulate her breath, before taking off into a run. Halfway down the lawn, she made a split decision. Valerie turned and lifted her feet to push off from the tree, and then she was in the air, and her hand was grasping the railing. And then she pulled herself up. It all felt like a second, but it felt easy. Cool, even. It reminded her of one of her favorite shows, Naruto.

She turned back to see the werewolf staring at her in surprise. But he masked it. Valerie looked back and walked into her room.

Sitting on her bed, practically glaring at her was her grandmother's bestiary. The wind from the balcony had blown it open to a page, the page to be exact. In between workouts, Valerie was flipping through it, when she came across a diary entry.

It was the ever surprising and twisting tale of how Tabitha grew to hate The Argents, and The Werewolf's. Tabitha was just entering high school when it happened, and there she met Gerard Argent, an extremely alluring, piece of forbiden fruit. Margaret, Valerie's great grandmother, forbid Tabitha from speaking with The Argents, who's life goal had become hunting and finding the Venator Cloak.

Tabitha was young and naive. She didn't realize. And sooner then later, she fell in love with Gerard. He treated her like a lady, and was more mature then any of the other boys in her class, plus Tabitha never had to hide her secret from him. Sometime's they even hunted together.

On one particular hidden date out in the forest, Elizabeth Hale and her pack of mongrel's showed up. They'd made a deal with Gerard, he offered them Tabitha, as long as he got to keep her cloak. He got it, he did, and he ran off with it. Tabitha was ready to die fighting. But one slip, one wrong move, and Elizabeth's teeth were in her shoulder.

The wolfsbane perfume poisened Elizabeth, and her daughter Talia made the pack run, she took her mother to safety, swearing death on Tabitha. If only Talia had known just how true that statement would have been. The bite took its effect on Tabitha and over the years, Tabitha was perfectly fine. Nothing seemed to be wrong.

The wolfsbane seemingly made the effects of the bite null. But as she grew older, once Sienna grew to an adult, Tabitha could barely move. The once small amounts of black fluid had grew an at alarming rate. And eventually, they found Tabitha at home, on the carpeted floor, dead from downing in it.

Gerard Argent didn't keep the cloak, Margaret stole it back, but Tabitha eventually took the effects of the bite. Hunter or Werewolf, she wouldnt, couldn't, be both.

Yet here Valerie was, preparing for a dinner with the family sworn on getting the cloak back. Like hell, they could try, but they wouldn't get very far. Werewolf's and Hunters only brought bad things.

Soon, Valerie would realize just how bad things can get when you play with canines.

Authors Note: Not really a filler, because there was development between Dalerie, but I promise, next chapter would be the Argent dinner. So, I answered the question, why does Valerie so blindly hate werewolves? How did Tabitha died? hmmm, let me know what you all thought please~!

Feedback is greatly appreciated, and yes, this is where Scott's going to get the idea to posion Gerard, shhh.