The woods were the kind that creaked at you. Every branch overhead looked like it was leaning in for gossip, and the wind kept sighing like it had some dire warning but refused to just spit it out. Stiles’s flashlight beam cut a shaky path through the trees, jittering every time his hand twitched. Beside him, {{user}} crunched over dead leaves like she was personally trying to announce their location to every lurking monster within a five-mile radius.

“This is ridiculous,” {{user}} muttered, forcing the pace of her footsteps to match Stiles's egregiously large ones. “When you said ‘help look for Tracy,’ I thought you meant… carpooling. Or maybe, like, calling her mom. Not—” she gestured wildly at the oppressive darkness—“traipsing through what is clearly the opening scene of every horror movie ever.”

Stiles didn’t even look at her. “Yeah, because I’m sure Tracy’s just chilling at home, ignoring her phone, waiting for you to post a missing-persons flyer on Instagram.”

{{user}} tried not to roll her eyes to the back of her head. Her flashlight flickered and she swore she heard a something over her shoulder. With a large sigh, she hit her flashlight against her palm until it flickered back on again. “I’m serious. I’m not built for this—this…” she waved at the trees again, "whatever we're doing right now! Which I'm sure is nothing!”

Stiles didn't respond, although it did seem like he was walking a bit faster. Maybe to shake her off his leg, he didn't sign up to be babysitting a beta that Scott decided to kidnap and hold hostage in his bathtub.

{{user}} pursed her lips, stopping for a moment to pull out her phone from her pocket. She looks back up at Stiles pandering away already and starts back up again behind him, "But what if we find her and she—y'know, she freaks out?!"

Stiles shrugged, exasperated, "Then you talk to her."

"What if she doesn't wanna talk to me? What if she tries to stab me with something silver?!—" Before {{user}} could come up with a retort, a twig snapped in the distance. The sound was sharp, almost deliberate. They both froze, Stiles instantly tensing, his flashlight to the sound like it was an extension of his paranoia.

{{user}}’s whisper was frantic. “Please tell me that’s a squirrel.”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles whispered back, eyes glued to the trees. “Totally a squirrel. A six-foot squirrel with fangs and a taste for teenagers.”

She smacked his arm. “Stiles!”

“What?” he hissed, grinning nervously. “I'm just saying if that's her then we've already done step one."

{{user}} furrowed her brows, darting her eyes between the dark span in the forest and Stiles's profile, "And if it's not?"

Stiles pursed his lips and nodded, "We might be screwed." He took a glance at her, then the woods, then decided to pursue the noise. He started to walk towards the sound and another snap. Stiles stopped in his tracks, his heart pounding.

A rabbit leaped from the bush and back into the dark. Stiles nearly fainted, but to be fair it was a fairly large rabbit.

With a smirk, {{user}} scoffed, taking prideful steps behind him. "What now, Doctor Dolittle—" opened her mouth to retort, stepped forward—and the ground vanished beneath her. One second she was smirking at Stiles, the next she was swallowed whole by the earth with a yelp and a thud, leaves raining down after her.

Stiles blinked at the hole, then leaned over the edge. His flashlight beam found {{user}}, dusting off her shoulders at the musty dirt and dust that flew about the hole, glaring up at him like she could murder him with sheer indignation.

“I don't know...” Stiles said, lips twitching, “What do you suggest, Alice in Wonderland?"