Stiles' P.O.V

Running over to Scott's house, I was so excited. First the call, now this. Damn dad wouldn't let me in on what it was, but I found out. I saw Scott doing pull-ups in front of his bathroom door. Trying to move forward, I slipped and nearly fell off and when I caught my balanca and pulled myself up to look in the window he was gone. I stumbled again and landed upside down, in a surprise attack right in front of Scott's face.

We both started screaming. "Stiles, what the hell are you doing," Scott screamed, holding a bat in his hand. What was he gonna do with it, beat me?

"You weren't answering your phone," I screeched back, still upside down. It was hurting my ribs. e_e "Why do you have a bat," I shrilled, the both of us glancing at the stick.

"I thought you were a predetor," he whined, throwing the bat down."

"A pre -. Nevermind. Look, I know it's late, you gotta hear this," I ignored his whining, barley able to control my excitment. "I saw my dad leave a few minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing every officer from the Beacon department and even state police," I grinned, the pain in my ribs settling to a dull ache. It was nothing compared to almost exploding with being so AWESOME.

"For what," Scott asked, looking bewildered. He should know me better.

"Two hikers found a body in the woods," I answered, flipping over to land on my feet. I should be in gymnastics or something, I'm so damned flexible.

"A dead body," my best friend asked in his most innocent I'm-such-a-retard voice ever.

"No, a body in water," I huffed, sarcasm kicking in after the long run/gym class stunt. "Yes, dumb ass, a dead body."

"You mean like murdered?"

"Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl. Prolly in her late 20's."

"Well, hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for."

This was the question! I'm so excited. "That's the best part. They only found half," I answered, nearly squeaking out the last sentence. Scott stared at me like I had two heads. "We're goin'." Grabbing his arm, we drove to the crime scene in my Jeep and stopped at Beacon Hills Preserve. Quite a nice place to dump a body, if I do say so myself.

"We're seriously gonna do this," Scott asked in his whining voice again.

God kid, lighten up a little. "You're the one who's always bitchin' about nothing ever happening in this town."

"I was trying to get a good nights sleep before practice tomorrow."

"Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a growing effort," I scoff sarcasticly, knowing we'll be benchies this year, just like last year.

"No, because I'm playing this year," Scott pouted, sticking his hands in his pockets and throwing on his hoodie. "In fact, I'm making first line."

"Hey, that's the spirit. Everyone should have a dream. Even a patheticly unrealistic one."

Scott chuckled at that and I praised myself.

"Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for... exactly," Scott asked, biting his bottom lip.

"Huh," I grunted, trying to sound casual. I was failing so damned hard. "I didn't even think about that, really. Did you?"

Scott totally knew it too. "And uhhh... what if who ever killed the body is still out here," he asked, changing the subject. Thank. God.

"Also stuff that I didn't exactly think about."

"It's," Scott panted as we climbed up a steep ravine. Asthma, dammit, "Comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail."

"Gee, thank you, Scott. I know that."

"Maybe the, uhh," I knew he was having trouble breathing, but hey! It's not like I had asthma like he did, "the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flash-light, huh," he wheezed, taking out his inhaler and breathing in the medicine.

Looking over the rise, I flattened myself to the ground and Scott did too, hiding ourselves behind tree roots and bushes. The police were coming with flashlights and dogs.

I took off running, making Scott follow suit. Suddenly, I tripped over something and my friend landed next to me. Next thing I knew, I was face to face with a red fox. Wide eyed, it took me a minute to process. Were there any foxes in California? Probably.

The fox growled at me and showing it's teeth. Long, sharp, and sickly looking from the lighting. Another wolf filed out behind it and gave it a sharp nip on the ear. Claws flashed and the dogs were tussling within seconds, snarling and yowling.

"Oh my god, we're gonna die!"