In the town of Low Hollow Fenrir Greyback, monster and eater of children was currently in danger of slipping into his cups. The sound of someone nervous clearing their throat brought his piercing blue eyes to the bartender, an annoying goblin named Vender.

" Sir another? " Fenrir flinched slightly. The Goblins' harsh voice hurt his ears.

Rather than answer he drained his smoky mead and tossed a coin on the counter wiping his mouth and belching in appreciation. They didn't have it half bad here. So far he had about half the werewolves in town loyal to him. The town itself had it's charming little gems. A bar,a few shops, flats, a bank and to his amusement it had a theater. He didn't know what the hell the fucking wizards had thought they were going to do at theaters in this little shit end hole in the grass but the shape shifters hadn't yet done anything useful to it. He snickered at the thought of some of his comrades walking the stage. He highly doubted anyone was more talented then he.

He after all had convinced the entire ministry of magic he was a muggle and was shocked and horrified at the charges brought against him which had been attacking children. He had done such a superb job he had walked away free to wreck more havoc.

He shouldered a bit drunkenly past other shape shifters who carried on normally or at least what passed for normal here. He paused by an eatery and lit up a fag. The window abruptly exploded outward in front of him and two lycans fell through howling, fighting, biting, and trying to tear each other up. Fenrir took a drag of his fag then studied it waiting for the combatants to roll out of his way before he continued to walk down the cobblestone road as if they hadn't even existed.

Yup completely fucking normal.

He finally made it to the post office and grabbed a paper that had been geared towards his kind. He snarled silently at it. He didn't care what happened in the wizarding world. In fact he hoped they all dropped dead.

Nope. Apparently everyone was having fun, fun, fun. He had gotten the paper for the job section. The spineless wizards had figured out they could hire out creatures like Fenrir to deal with other more dangerous creatures. There were ads for every night walker in the post. Even the blood suckers.

Fenrir had actually turned his hatred away from the wizards and witches for the moment in leu of something else that he found he hated even more.

Now it was up the mountains Fenrir deep blue eyes went. It was a fair amount away from the village but you could still see the outline of what appeared to be a castle that jutted to the sky. That was where the vampires lived. Unlike the shabby poor things the lycans were forced to deal with the vampires were fucking rich. They threw parties that were said to be fit for a king. Someone had gotten a foot in the door with some dwarves and now they apparently sold gold and precious metals.

Occasionally at night their black and gold carriages could be seen in the distance doing whatever the giant leeches did for fun.

He couldn't prove it but he believed they were being brought blood by loyal wizards. Or maybe the population of Azkaban was going down. For good measure he flipped them off. He turned and stumbled into Sharlee on of his bitches in his pack.

She smiled at him placed her hands against his broad chest and purred " Fenrir your naughty man! Surely you can find something better to do then stare and make obscene motions at the blood suckers castle!"

She rubbed against him and he could smell her desire. She could be his and had been many times before. Hell they didn't even have to leave the fucking street to screw. He slapped the paper against his leg apparently waiting for her to get the point. He arched his brows impatiently anger making him began to grit his teeth. The drama and games the females played annoyed him especially the ones in his own pack.

She made a bold and grave error. Decided he simple wanted to be coaxed she leaned against him reaching up to touch his face her other hand sliding down his bare chest. " Why don't we find someplace.."

POW! Just like that she was kneeling in the street her nose gushing blood. He walked past her huddled form ignoring her cursing and yowling to head to the woods irritated. He had come to hate women. Of course the fact he had never been around a woman who wasn't in some way evil never dawned on him and if it had he wouldn't have cared.

He walked a long way following a river. A natural out cropping was formed were it emptied into a vast lake and Fenrir climbed it with animalistic ease. His loyal retainers were there.

None of them were bigger then he was but they were just as vicious and just as cunning. He gave them each nod and then pulled his paper out of his pocket.

" You see this shyte mates? " Fenrir asked folding the paper to the article and holding it out to them. His right hand man O'Tool shook his head amazed. The other two grumbled when they saw it.

" Is it a joke? " Auguste rasped.

Fenrir snarled. " Its no joke. They want any bounty hunter to have unrestricted movement through our lands AND they want our numbers accounted for."

O'Tool growled "Their trying to track us and target us!"

" Who speaks for the Hollow now? " Fenrir glanced at his 3rd accomplice Marcus. Should something happen to he, Fenrir then Marcus would most likely inherit the pack. Being that he was content to wait until it was his and he never tried to challenge Fenrir he kept his place high up in the pack as well as keeping Fenrir's trust. As much as anyone did anyway.

" Angus." O'Tool rasped

" MMMMmmmm" Fenrir let his breath out in a long low growl. Angus. Angus was a shape shifter but he wan't a were-wolf. He was a were-tiger. Large and strong and wise he was one of the oldest residents in the town. Fenrir hated him. The old cat seemed ever to be giving in to the demands of the damn magic folk.

" Think we should pay him a visit, what do you say boys? "

The other three nodded and with graceful leaps they cleared their perches landed on their feet already walking with purpose. Angus didn't live right in the town. Instead he chose to reside in an old shack on the outskirts of the woods.

Unknowing to him Fenrir pulled in snatches of air and blew it out in long low growls of fury. His deep blue eyes sparked red and his hands which were more like claws then hands had curled into fists cutting into his own flesh and leaving drips of blood on the ground behind him.