The forest had grown quiet behind you.

Your paws thudded softly against the dirt as you ran between trees, weaving through shadows until the woods slowly turned into streets and houses. In your canine form, you looked like nothing more than a normal dog to anyone who might glance your way.

Just another stray passing through Beacon Hills.

But you knew better.

Your nose twitched as you crept through a quiet neighborhood, staying close to fences and bushes. Lights glowed inside houses, laughter drifting faintly through open windows.

Safe places.

Places you didn’t belong.

Then you saw it.

A second-story window, cracked open just enough.

Your ears perked.

You scanned the street once before slipping behind the house. In a quiet flash, your body shifted — bones realigning, fur melting away until you stood barefoot in human form.

You grabbed the windowsill, hauling yourself up before slipping inside.

The room you landed in was… chaotic.

Papers everywhere. Strings, maps, notebooks, random objects scattered across every surface. Your bare feet brushed over loose pages as you moved carefully through the dim room.

You didn’t care what any of it was.

All you cared about was hiding.

You shifted again quickly, shrinking back into your canine form before padding quietly toward the far corner.

The bed sat slightly off the ground.

Perfect.

You crawled underneath and curled into a tight ball, nose tucked beneath your tail.

For the first time in hours… you relaxed.

Safe.

Your breathing slowed as exhaustion pulled at you.

Then—

Footsteps.

Your ears twitched.

Voices drifted down the hallway before the bedroom door creaked open.

“Dude, I’m telling you something weird is going on,” said a familiar, fast-talking voice.

Stiles Stilinski tossed his backpack onto the floor, kicking the door shut behind him.

Behind him stood Scott McCall.

Scott sighed.

“You say that every week.”

“Yeah, and I’m usually right!” Stiles argued, pacing through the messy room.

Your ears flicked as his footsteps passed dangerously close to the bed.

“I just think if something supernatural is happening again,” Stiles continued, “we should probably figure it out before someone dies.”

Scott sat on the edge of the bed.

Which suddenly sagged slightly above you.

You froze.

Stiles dropped into his desk chair.

“Also,” he added, rubbing his face tiredly, “I swear something weird has been happening around my house lately.”

Your heart skipped.

Scott raised an eyebrow.

“What kind of weird?”

Stiles glanced around his room suspiciously.

“Like… the feeling someone’s watching me.”

Under the bed, your tail twitched slightly against the floor.

Scott leaned down slightly, peering toward the dark space beneath the bed.

“…Stiles.”

Stiles blinked.

“What?”

Scott pointed.

“…You might want to look under there.”