morning curious anon! I guess we’d have to decide which canon we want to go with here, because there quite obviously are two different versions. when I picked Fenrir’s wolf form, I went with JK Rowling’s description of them on Pottermore, which, to me, is the more reliable canon than the movies are (and frankly, the movies have done an amazing job at treating werewolves piss poorly).

now from Pottermore, we learn this about the looks of transformed werewolves: “While in its animal form, the werewolf is almost indistinguishable in appearance from the true wolf, although the snout may be slightly shorter and the pupils smaller (in both cases more ‘human’) and the tail tufted rather than full and bushy. “ I went ahead and applied a few of my own headcanons on top of it --- one of them being that werewolves are also larger than true wolves; and with Fenrir being massive in his human form already, it translates to him being massive as a wolf as well, easily capable of reaching a grown man’s shoulder.

so to me, this kind of look for a canon HP werewolf:

makes a lot more sense than the “slightly constipated lovechild of dobby and a chihuahua” look we get in the movie. I hope that clears it up for you a little! :)

       ❝you dare me, huh?❞ plain amusement sat thick on his tongue; a dash of mischief glistened in a pair of hazel eyes for a moment, the curious gaze barely ever leaving her form. it was too easy to forget. pain, hatred, malice; it all seemed petty and insignificant in a world they had built for themselves. one that felt safe, that delivered kindness to a tormented soul for the first time in decades --- and all it took was a cabin in the woods they had conjured up in their minds; fantasies shared and enriched by the other-

                     ( creativity Fenrir never knew he had )

          -that made room for one like him and one like her; creating something they both knew wasn’t real, but both knew they needed.

          and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, pointed fangs flashing for a moment, and he propped both feet on the chair opposite his own.

          ❝alright--❞ and with the smirk growing a little wider, filled with trust he didn’t know he could harbour for a human being any longer, he closed his eyes. ❝now what?❞

▒▓ - of monsters & men || starters (accepting). | @heillagr

        keeping up the usual nonchalance sure was a challenging task. one half beast, the other half being, the little that remained of his humanity pulled at every fibre of his body. a step closer, another look or two, a mind so incapable of friendliness conjuring up a compliment that he, however, swallowed before it could leave the tip of his tongue. damn these women and the leverage they had on the likes of him. and yet he felt no need to ridicule himself --- the dark magic lingering within, that made him less a man and more an animal, rendering him somewhat immune to her charms.

         ❝took you quite some time t’figure that out then---❞ arms folded before the massive chest, his rasp of a voice rang quietly through the chatter around them; two hooded creatures standing in the shadows, nothing like the rest indeed. they were both tolerated -- one more than the other -- but a sense of belonging, he imagined, evaded them both. what a magical world it was; built by wizards. for wizards---

▒▓ - of monsters & men || starters (accepting). | @jxzabel

      leaning back in his chair, clawed fingers casually interweaved on his lap, he pointedly lets the shotglass stay on the table -- untouched. 

▒▓ - how drunk can you get my muse? send me “have you ever”s and for every one my muse has done, they’ll take a drink. (accepting).

       for a moment all colour drained from his face, mental images playing in his mind that would haunt his soul forever, and none of them were pretty --- and he eventually rolls the hazel eyes. brows knitted, massaging the bridge of his nose for a second, he takes a second to lift the glass...

▒▓ - how drunk can you get my muse? send me “have you ever”s and for every one my muse has done, they’ll take a drink. (accepting).

       he straightens up suddenly, unease creeping into his bones. the Dark Lord has ears and eyes everywhere --- he knows, he is one of them after all. and while his fingers toy with the filled glass before him, he decides to live. ❝never---❞

                   lies.

▒▓ - how drunk can you get my muse? send me “have you ever”s and for every one my muse has done, they’ll take a drink. (accepting).

       ❝the way you just phrased tha’ tells me you sure as fuck haven’t ever done any dos in your life---❞ with a mix of mild amusement and complete annoyance playing on his face, a shotglass is lifted to his lips.

▒▓ - how drunk can you get my muse? send me “have you ever”s and for every one my muse has done, they’ll take a drink. (accepting).