Duncan had been on his way back up to the Gryffindor common room when he had seen it, plastered onto the wall. His eyebrows raised as his eyes widened. "What the.. ?" A werewolf? That was the part that caught his eyes first, screaming out the warning of the tales he had heard in his childhood. But his father had always been encouraging of him in the acceptance of others, whether they be feared as vampires were, or misunderstood like werewolves. Duncan found himself wondering who 'Briar Rowan' was, until he realised how he knew the name. She was one of the Gryffindor prefects. Though he had only met her once or twice in passing, she had seemed pleasant enough, and had in no way represented either of the things written. Still, he knew not to judge a book by its cover. "This is cruel," he said aloud, finding passing students stopping to see what was cruel. It was then that Duncan became aware of the time, that the young wizard friend he was supposed to be meeting, would have been waiting for him five minutes. He decided to head off to meet his friend, doubting that the writing was going to morph into anything of particular concern in the time he stood there. Perhaps he would meet a professor on the way back up and inform them?