"Well, that may be," Fenrir said to Jack, "but you're forgetting this crone is human, purely human. She's never been a werewolf, doesn't know anything about it, doesn't know the werewolf pack laws, and quite honestly, she doesn't give a damn.
"Think about it," he told Jack. "She took a young werewolf lad, branded him like a steer, which should tell you that she sees werewolves as nothing more than a dumb cow that can be bought and sold like any other piece of property. Then she deliberately sent him on a suicide mission, knowing full well she was sending him into the home of Edward Donohue. That's a place most werewolves would refuse to go under any circumstance. I'm telling you she honestly does not care about anything other than herself. She has not one ounce of conscience or empathy or compassion. Absolutely none. And, you know what else, it isn't the first she's pulled that trick. She's branded others. I've rescued a couple of them, and they're in my pack now.
"As for your friend," Fenrir continued, "he might be a new werewolf, but she doesn't give a crap about that either. He was used and exploited for a reason. Most likely to deal another hit to the Donohue family. Sounds to me like she was hired by that blonde woman to make Junior's life, here, a living hell, and if I'm right, she's not even gotten a good start. This is just tinkering about for her." Fenrir looked at Angus.
"Every minute your boys spend with this old nutter puts them in more danger. The clock is ticking, Donohue. I'd get a move on. Direct confrontation will not be your friend in this. Subterfuge will serve you far better, if you know anyone who can do it."
Angus just nodded. Michael and Marcus were specialists in subterfuge and espionage. It would have to be enough. He hoped that he could use what he had learned from Edward to try to track the boys, but Jack would be a big help there. Then perhaps Michael and Marcus could help find a way to get the boys away from the witch and Suzanne in a way that no one needed to die tonight.
"Head that way," Fenrir pointed again. "When you get to Table Rock, take the path around the rock to the right, not the left. If you go to the right and you keep a quick pace, you might put yourselves ahead of her, if she took the easier path to the left. The right path is far more dangerous to take, but because the left path is easier and longer, you could use it to your benefit."
"I did leave home quickly, so I don't have much of a gift," Angus said. "Still, I did bring something. May I?" Fenrir nodded. Angus drew a large pouch of galleons out of his pocket. "I don't know if you can make use of these..." Fenrir took the pouch, opened it and looked inside and closed it again.
"A very generous gift. Yes, we can use this. If you come again, we could use healing potions--all kinds. Bloody gits in Diagon Alley don't want to sell to us," Fenrir said.
"You'll have them. You have my word, on the honor of my grandfather," Angus said.
"Your word, I don't know about yet enough to know if its good. Your grandfather's word has merit to me. I accept that. Anything else?" Angus looked at Jack and Marcus and Michael.
"Are we good to go forward?" Angus asked them. "Any other questions?"