The Fox and the Wolf

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[Y/N] POV

"What has teeth but doesn't bite?"

"A comb. These jokes are stupid."

The two men placed a limp body down on a pile. Maybe hundreds of bodies were already set there. Blood covered them all; men, women, and children. The men continue to take bodies out of their truck, one at a time, setting them down as if they were anything but human.

The scene changes, and I'm in a dark courtyard, the wind blowing through the area causing the leaves on the ground to shifted. They made a scraping noise as the flew, and I heard what sounded like a sword being drawn. Suddenly, my ears were pierced by loud screech, causing me to hold my ears and look up.

But I wish I hadn't.

"What has a neck but no head?"

---

"I'm afraid I don't know," Deaton said.

I had gone to the vet office early in the morning, hoping to catch him before his clients came in.

"No ideas on how I can control it?" I asked, feeling my hope begin to go down.

He shook his head. "Why do you wish to control it now? I thought it was helpful to you."

I sighed and looked down, picking at me nails. "Except when I end up seeing something I wish I hadn't."

He furrowed his brow. "Like what?"

"Like someone I care about dying," I answered. "Seeing it happen over and over again, and I can't do anything to stop it."

He nodded understandingly. "Let me test something."

He moved around the metal table so that he stood in front of me. He leaned forward so that his face was directly in front of mine, still giving a good amount of space between us.

"Look into my eyes," he instructed. "Tell me what you see..."

I did as he told me to, looking into his dark eyes. They were a clear dark brown, and practically unreadable. I did my best to search for something, anything that Deaton could be expecting me to find. After a few moments of silence, I felt my body begin to feel weak. My limbs seemed to buckle under me, and I could feel myself slowly beginning to lean against the table for support. My eyes felt heavy, and I could feel my eyelids beginning to close until a hand grabbed my arm, snapping me out of my trance-like state.

Deaton helped me get back on my feet, eyeing me up and down. "Interesting."

He let go of my arm, and walked to the other side of the table again.

"Tell me," he said. "Have you lost anything lately? Anything of value to you?"

I placed my hands on the metal table. "What do you mean?"

"Is there anything you own that you feel particularly drawn to for any reason? It could be a childhood toy, a piece of clothing, a gift you had received..."

I thought for a moment, and my eyes widened once I found my answer.

"My locket," I said. "The one Stiles gave me."

He nodded. "How long since you last saw it?"

"The day Stiles first went missing," I answered. "During his MRI and when Isaac was electrocuted."

"And there's been no sign of it since?"

I shook my head. "Where are you going with this?"

---

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