Hunter woke up at his desk, staring at what was supposed to be a  research paper outline but was actually a load of gibberish. He stared at the scribbles. What if the investigators decided he was the culprit? If that was the case, why study? Maybe it would be better to go with Garou's proposal and run. But to where? Thanks to the Hayes family, he could never return to Canis Drive. Living with his mother's family in New York City was also out of the question, as they were not privy to his affliction.

As he dragged himself across the muddy campus on crutches he thought about the other Lycanthrope freshmen. As angry as he was, he couldn't pin any blame on them either. Malcolm, flake that he was, didn't seem like the rage type. Serena probably planned her shifts down to the letter. And while he couldn't remember everything about their interactions, Tom seemed to be in his right mind when he left the Howard dorm. But if that was the case, why would he lie about binding Hunter? Maybe his memory was a mess as well?

He headed over to Rosewood. There was still crime scene tape wrapping the perimeter, but class continued on as normal.

He stepped into Lugosi's class all too quickly, sliding until he made contact with Lugosi's desk. Rather than stopping the young student, Lugosi grabbed for his stack of handouts, which were scattered as Hunter crashed to the floor.

"I wonder." Lugosi began watching him from behind the desk. "Do you ever have a day devoid of disaster?"

On a better day, Hunter would have let the jibe roll off or return a remark. But between Garou's words, a possible expulsion and arrest in his future, his unending anxiety, coupled with the inability to return home, he crawled up into a ball and began to sob loudly. At first he could hear voices, but he drowned them out. He needed this. During Nineteen years of secrecy and pain he had managed to not behave like this. Far from home and surrounded by strangers, he found the perfect audience.

He wasn't sure how long he had stayed on the floor but once the moment was over, Hunter found himself being escorted out of the classroom by two security guards, and covered in a blanket.

"Are you alright son?" One security guard asked. He was a man in his fifties, with a hardened gaze, a neck tattoo and a solid build.

This guy's probably seen some stuff. Hunter thought as he nodded. "I'm okay now." He replied. And in truth, he was. Something about being that vulnerable in a public space seemed to put things into perspective. Sure, his future at Redwood was in jeopardy, but things could be a lot worse.

Devoid of tears he let the two guards slowly escort him down the hill, into a flat brick building, and deposited him outside a room labeled, 'Counseling services'.

A tired looking woman in a tweed suit opened the door and let him in. He looked around. The office looked as if it had been frozen in time for the past 30 years. There were several dingy file cabinets, a small water cooler, and to his amusement--two matching desks with old bulky computers, corded phones, and Rolodexes.

Oh wow. They could film a scene from a 90s movie in here. Grayson would love this place.

The woman stared at a freshly printed questionnaire. She wrote his name in cursive at the top, then wrote it again in print.

"On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your depression, with one meaning happy and ten meaning--"

"Twelve." Hunter cut the woman off. He stared at the rotating fan through his sunglasses. He was certain that this was the typical procedure for outbursts like this. Long ago he filled out a similar questionnaire with a guidance counselor in high school. Just as before, he doubted a set of questions with numeric scales could really help with the real problem at hand.

Which each question he grew more relaxed.

"How often do you have suicidal thoughts? 0 meaning not at all, 10 meaning--"

"Negative 1. I don't bother with suicide. I used to think about it when I was a kid but then I googled the cost of a funeral and I was like, 'Oh crap I can't afford to die! My Mom can't pay for all that!' So like, nah. I'll save my money and ride this whole 'life thing' out, thank you very much."

"Mmhm, mmhmm." She scribbled down something in a notepad. "And why were you brought here today?" She glanced up at him over her glasses.

Hunter propped his chin up with the back of his hand. "I lost my marbles in English class."

"Can you elaborate?" She asked, writing more notes.

"Oh well, you know. I fell, Lugosi was being a dick as usual. Make sure you get that down. Lugosi. Is. a. Dick. I'm not the only kid he picks on, I'm sure, but he has a special brand of venom for me. Anyway, I snapped like y'do, got in the fetal position at some point. I know I heard Lugosi say something, probably another quip but whatever, I'm over it. Can I go now?"

"Are you saying you felt provoked by your professor?" She nodded her head up and down in a slow motion.

"Yes?" Hunter replied puzzled and nodding slowly.

"Has your professor spoken to you in a similar matter before now?"

"Every Monday evening since I started here."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"Like he doesn't want me around, but I've been feeling that way a lot lately."

"Have you had any physical altercations?"

"Oh no, I would never. Plus he's built like a twig. I don't think he could land a hit without breaking something."

"Would you say that you don't feel safe in his presence?" She nodded slowly again.

"Yes...?" He couldn't tell if she was trying to feed him answers or not.

"If allowed, would you prefer to retake the course the following semester?" She shook her head no. ".... or attempt a late transfer?" She shook her head yes.

"A late transfer...?" Hunter nodded along.

She wrote in silence for a few minutes, as Hunter stared at his hands.

"You may go, Mr. Reeds."

"Okay. One thing."

"Yes?"

"What do I do with this blanket?"

Hunter stepped out onto the campus once again. The grounds were still mostly mud, and his toes were cold, but the plastic Halloween decorations plastered on the Green building melted his heart.

Hunter probably loved Halloween more than Christmas and Thanksgiving combined. Sure there were no presents or sweet potato pies, but there was trick or treating. Halloween was the one night the children and teens of Canis Drive could blend in. No one would mock their fangs or excessive hair. Perhaps he would dress up this year, for old time's sake. Midterms would be over and done with by the time Halloween came along. He entertained the thought of going into town to find a costume.

Hunter sniffed the air. There was the aroma of cinnamon and apples. He saw its source, two women with Styrofoam cups of hot cider. He was going to inquire the drink's price when a strange scent wafted on the breeze. Instinct made his lips curl, and his gaze turned into a glare. A werewolf was nearby.

There were numerous scents wafting by, but the presence of his own kind kept Hunter's attention. In the sea of passerby two individuals stood out --a man and a woman, dressed in suits. They both looked to be in their early thirties. One wore a pair of dark shades and had hunched shoulders, Hunter pegged him to be the werewolf in question.

Hunter stepped into their path. "Are you the investigators?"

The two stopped in front of him. Up close the man was nearly seven feet tall. The stranger with sunglasses sniffed. "Whoa there, pup."

He lowered his sunglasses to get a better look at him. "You Reeds' boy? Don't even answer, you got his glare." He gave his partner a sideways glance. "Check it out Eva, it's Reeds' boy. Maybe he can use his super nose to track our man down."

The man's laidback attitude irked him. He crossed his arms. "If this is the way you're going to treat the case, maybe I should."

"Whoa, watch out, he's got his Daddy's pride too!"

The woman rolled her eyes, clearly not interested in their exchange, she flicked her head left. "Abner, if you aren't gonna put that nose to work, let's just return that bag to the deputy."

"Pssh!" The man, 'Abner' produced a small plastic bag from his breast pocket. He thrust it against Hunter's chest with one hairy backed hand. "Here, little puppy. Let's see if you got yer Daddy's gift. See if you can get a whiff from that."

Hunter looked down at the bag. There was one faux wolf ear, crusted with dried blood, dirt, and a few strands of hair. The sight of the blood made his stomach uneasy, but he remained calm on the outside. For some reason, this stranger was trying to provoke him. He wouldn't let him have the satisfaction. "I'll see what I can do."

"Abner!" His partner hissed.

"Easy Evangeline. Let the wolf folk do their work." His focus went back to Hunter as he pulled out a card. "This puppy comes from good stalk. Fine Trackers with good noses. We'll be in these parts until we get our man. If you figure somethin' out, give us a holler."

"Sure thing."

With that Abner picked up the pace, bumping sides with Hunter as he walked away.

Hunter watched as Abner and Evangeline moved quickly down the slope. With his heightened hearing he heard Evangeline complaining about Abner's behavior.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Not at all. I wanted to see if the kid would squirm. Teacher said the Reeds boy's been actin' strange. I'd say he's right, judging by that big baby blanket he's carryin' around."

"--And how do you plan on explaining the missing evidence?"

"I won't. I got nothin' from that bag, and neither did the pigs. This case'll be closed by November one way or another, so don't get yer--"

"End that sentence with 'panties in a bunch', and I'll kick you down this hill."

"....Yes Ma'am." He cleared his throat.

Hunter stared at the card. 'Abner Hodges, SPOIPA'.

"Hunter!"

Grayson ran towards him, from the direction of Rosewood. He looked frantic."Why didn't you answer your phone? And who were those two? And why are you wearing that blanket?"

Hunter opened his messenger bag and slipped the evidence bag inside. "Broken phone. Werewolf cops. It's warm. Can we talk somewhere else?"