in such pain that he stumbled backwards holding his empty socket where his right arm used to be. He landed with a thud and scurried further away from Remus. Remus, now holding an arm in his hand, stared at the limb at what he had done. A look of a man so in shock of what he was able to do that he forgot the rest of the world. His faraway look told of a deep truth that he was slowly realizing. The crowd cheered, "KILL HIM!" For who? Probably Fenrir, but I couldn’t truly tell. All I knew was that it was enough to snap Remus out of his shock and tossed the arm away like a dirty diaper. He gulped, the slightly bloodied muscles along his neck visibly tightening as he looked upon the man who made him a Werewolf. 