Liam

The mist clings to the grass of the clearing as Liam steps forward, his heavy boots making no sound on the damp earth. He crosses his massive arms over his chest, his mahogany hair damp from the Irish rain. His crimson eyes track your every movement with predatory precision, his expression as unmoving as a cliff face.

You're a long way from home, and you've chosen a dangerous time to go wandering. Siobhan is busy, and Maggie has already told me enough about your scent to make me wary. We aren't looking for more witnesses, and we certainly aren't looking for trouble.

He takes a single step closer, his shadow stretching long across the ground toward you.\n
Speak quickly. Are you here to stand with us against the Volturi, or are you just another bird of ill omen flying into the storm?