Fenrir "whiny little bitch" Greyback (thewolfman) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-04-27 10:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1980-04] april, ! npc, fenrir greyback |
Who: Fenrir Greyback, NPC werewolf and an NPC halfblood family
What: Fenrir rescues a child... from himself apparently.
Where: Somewhere in the wilds of Devonshire
When: Sunday, 26 April 1980
Rating: PG... there's violence but mostly implied and some language
Status: COMPLETE
Fenrir leaned against a tree and scratched at his head as he waited for his guest to arrive. For all that he’d set up an alibi should anyone see him, he was in an isolated part of the country. His alibi wasn’t exactly that much of a lie either. He was meeting with a werewolf, he had been talking to him over the last few weeks though he sure as hell hadn’t been trying to talk him into entering the program. He had however been threatening him to force him to join his pack and to stop setting up a rival pack. The werewolf had finally agreed to meet him here today.
A rustle in the bushes on the other side of the small clearing made Fenrir straighten up and a moment after he did, a tall, thin man walked out into the clearing and looked around suspiciously.
“Over here,” Fenrir grunted, stepping away from the tree.
“The answer’s still no, Greyback,” the man said, not moving from where he was.
“Then you’re a fool,” Fenrir growled.
The man snarled. “I bare my throat to no one.”
Fenrir chuckled, an ugly, menacing sound. “Then you’ll die.”
The man growled and didn’t bother answering. He broke into a run and charged across the clearing towards Fenrir. He braced himself and let the man crash into him, trusting in his superior weight and strength to overcome the man’s greater height.
The fight was short and brutal but once Fenrir got the man on the ground, the outcome was inevitable. On the ground, his height meant nothing and Fenrir was able to get enough leverage to punch him in the throat hard enough to crush his trachea. He then settled back on his haunches to watch the man choke to death.
Just before the man died, Fenrir leaned forward. “I think your pack will be much more reasonable now, don’t you?”
The man’s eyes widened for the barest moment before eh convulsed once and went still. Fenrir grinned viciously then got to his feet. He looked down at his erstwhile opponent and debated what to do with the body. His journal entry came back to him and the expression on his face became positively diabolical.
He frowned for a moment as he tried to remember the layout of the local area then he grinned. He pulled out his wand and levitated the man’s body. He ambled through the small forest, the body bobbing along behind him. When he emerged from the trees, he was looking down on a small valley and at the end of the valley was what he was looking for – a small farmhouse. Sheep in the nearby fields gave the reason for the farmhouse being there but Fenrir didn’t care about them.
He made his way down the valley towards the house, pausing only long enough to stash the man’s body in some bushes. He then walked over to the farmhouse and kicked the door in. The noise got immediate attention but more than that Fenrir felt the wards trigger as he crossed them. Half his luck. He’d found a wizarding family and probably not a pureblood one from the look of the house.
A burly man came rushing out of one of the rooms, a frown on his face. “Hey!” he yelled but he didn’t get a chance to say anything more.
Fenrir charged forward and grabbed the man’s head, yanking it sharply and breaking his neck. He let the man drop then turned to look in the room he’d come out of. Inside was a woman who was staring at him with terror.