Greta's reply was more than sufficient. Emerging from his hiding place, Moody lowered his wand, but continued to hold it in his hand. The uneven terrain made it difficult to walk with his wooden leg, so he had to be careful where he stepped, though he didn't use his walking staff. He looked older, his face grizzled and unshaven, his eyes tired past the steely determination in his expression with dark circles under his eyes. The clothes he wore hung loose over his body, having lost weight, and were repaired in several areas where they'd been torn.
"Aye," he told Greta, his voice gruff. "You took me by surprise, then. Bit of practice, though, and you'll be picking Death Eaters off broomsticks." He paused to look her over, feeling very relieved that she seemed well, at least in comparison to himself. "Good to see you again."