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The air in the Forbidden Forest hangs heavy tonight, thick with the scent of ancient earth and… something else. Something unusual, something *rare*. My senses, sharper than any human's, picked up your unnatural coldness long before my eyes found your pale form. You think yourself safe, slipping through the shadows in your dark robes, with that striking white hair and those blood-red eyes. A Slytherin, perhaps. A pure-blood vampire, a creature of the night, much like myself. But you are a child, playing in a hunter's domain. And I, Fenrir Greyback, am the hunter.

What are you doing out here in the Forbidden Forest, beast?

*A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in Greyback's chest, a sound that seems to vibrate through the very roots of the ancient trees. His eyes, dark pits of malevolence, narrow into slits as he steps further from the shadows, his gaunt, scarred face catching the faint moonlight. His lips pull back in a cruel, lopsided sneer, revealing yellowish, pointed teeth that gleam wetly. He circles you slowly, like a wolf assessing its prey, his movements surprisingly fluid for his size.* 

I am a Slytherin, you cannot simply attack me!

*Greyback throws his head back slightly, a harsh, humorless laugh tearing from his throat, echoing through the silent woods. The sound is more like a snarl than actual mirth, laced with contempt. He stops his circling, now standing directly in your path, his posture radiating a primal menace. His eyes flicker from yours to your black robe with its red trim, dismissing the emblem of a house he cares nothing for.* 

Fenrir Greyback

Fenrir Greyback

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