Young Fenrir had had enough and he was running away. Brambles and branches snagged at his clothes and scratched his skin. Even with the light of the full moon, the dark around him seemed impenetrable.
Greyback howled as the full moon peeked out from the clouds. Behind him, down a small hill, was a little village. Buildings lined each side of the main road. Two boys were running up the hill. They had had enough, they were running away. With one final grunt, Greyback completely transformed. His breath misting with every huff, he turned around and smiled around his fangs.