Unlike most students who had a thirst for adventure or just couldn't keep their snot noses out of places they weren't supposed to be, Fenrir had never ventured into the forest during his two short years while attending Hogwarts. That seemed like a millennium ago, and in his mind, it was. It was an entirely different lifetime, a time when he was far weaker and far less worldly than he was now. To him, that was practically a past life. After that, though, he had taken to visiting the old grounds many times throughout the years. He knew the exact spot where the wards began and exactly where the rather fascinating Acromuntula nest was set up.
This time around, however, he wasn't here for the mere fun of exploring the wildlife of the forest and considering how much fun it would be to take a few of his pack out here to wait for the idiotic little students who would not disappoint in slipping into the forest. They would get lost, as most do, and then find their way outside the protective wards to their waiting hands. It would be practically divine. But he knew that whatever headmaster was running the school nowadays - Dumbledore, was it? - would then decide it was time to hunt them down, and while that did not scare him any, it wasn't part of his plan to put his pack into unnecessary danger.
No, this time he was here for business. From the Hog's Head, he had done a little tracking himself to follow MacNair's tracks into this practically uncharted territory. He grinned as he trekked through the area, a place that he happened to adore. He knew there was a reason that he liked this man. Being sure to make enough noise not to startle him as he didn't want to deal with that, he stepped into the clearing, tossing the man a sealed bottle of firewhisky as he did, keeping one for himself.
"That's two drinks you owe me," he said lazily as he made himself at home right on the dusky forest floor. Ah, just like how he remembered it.