The limp body of Moody was regarded by Rhydian; his brows furrowed pensively. The streetlamp illuminated his face, as he nudged the body with his foot.

Guilt mixed with twisted triumph; he had killed the Auror who had tried to take him to Azkaban - to take him away from you. It was a wretched way to feel after taking the life of another, but he was a Death Eater. Killing was a given.

"I'm no detective, of course, but I believe this dead body might not be alive anymore." He observed dryly.