There were fewer things in life that made Moody angrier than a stubborn Death Eater. Maybe it was because he liked to think that most of them were slimy, selfish gits out for their own gain, and the fact that someone like Voldemort could instill honest-to-Merlin loyalty made him entirely too sick to his stomach to express. He snorted, straightening the collar of his robes.
"As I have told you again and again, you really aren't in a position where you ought to be making demands." He wouldn't have a problem with just killing this ... thing, but apparently that wasn't the most productive course of action. Moody leaned back a small distance, just out of the direct glow of the light.
"He looks a little like a raccoon, don't you think? It's kind of sad, really." He wasn't going to give up this opportunity. The Death Eaters had already taken so much from so many people that he wasn't going to allow Christopher Loftus to escape. He'd just have to think of a bigger threat.
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