She pauses, for a long moment, examining him, before she tilts her head. With a nasty snap, letting her teeth sink in to the flesh before she twists and drops it to one side. Her snout is bloody, now, her jowls matted, and she takes a step back to sit. Watching Harry for a long moment she pauses, wondering how this man thought a wolf might respond to him, before she breathes out sharply, darting into the forests to the left.

There, she transforms, not willing to let a stranger see what she becomes; the elven creature that is her natural form. She moves out, making a soft whistle, as if she had called the wolf to her side, moving forward to bend and pick up the dead hare.

"I have not heard the name," is all she says at first, her eyes exploring Harry's face and turning to look at his broom before she lifts her head, acting as superior as she dares. "And I doubt trying to converse with beasts of nature will help your cause."