red alert: idiot genius

Newt is royally screwed. It's not even his fault--maybe a little his fault--he'd just been trying to get to know the area around Dimera better and hey, there's the woods, is he not supposed to want to know what's in the woods? He'd spent more than a few hours writing notes on plants and trees and animal life and examining the soil and okay, yeah, climbing a really cool tree or two. He hadn't even noticed that the sun had started to go down because the trees had provided a shade anyway, hadn't even really kept good track of how far deep into the woods he'd gone. So when he looks at his phone and sees that it's nearly seven then looks around and realizes he has no idea what part of the woods he's in, he freaks out a little.

"Okayyyy, this isn't good." He opens his contacts list and stares at the list of names. Who to call? Not Chuck, he'd never live it down with Chuck. Derek's name is next and hey, now. Werewolf with a keen sense of smell who spends a lot of time in the woods, sounds promising. He hits the dial button and holds the phone to his ear, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "Come on, dude, pick up. If you pick up, I promise I'll never bother you about werewolfy stuff again." A false promise but if that's the deal he needs to make with the universe right now, he'll do it.