A werewolf pack

You see a group of four more werewolves swaggering up to you and your captor, and one of them is tugging at a heavy iron chain. As they get closer, you see that the four are rugged and swarthy with numerous scars across their faces and their exposed arms and feet. You're ashamed to admit it, but the sight of those muscles is giving you some unwelcome sensation down below. However, this is soon quashed when you see what the one werewolf with the chain was dragging along with him.

The chain is wrapped around the neck of another werewolf, this one this and sickly looking. He has his own share of scars, but these are badly healed and look more like festering wounds than battle trophies. With one hard pull, this helpless captive falls to his knees and has his red hair tugged upwards hard. His captor leans his head in close and growls, "This isn't him, dipshit! We're looking for a werewolf, you hear? A W-E-A-R-WOLF" Another one laughs at him and says, "It's spelt 'w-a-r-e' dick wad!"

From behind the babbling bunch of half-literates, you hear a heavy thud, almost like the thunder that had passed by. The five upright werewolves suddenly bow their heads and move away, even the one holding you backs off.

A huge, grey haired werewolf walks towards you with a heavy wrought iron walking stick. From his immaculately dressed form, you see that the stick is really just for show, since he is in better physical condition than any of the others, despite being considerably older.

He comes up to you and speaks with a voice dripping with sweet oil. "Good evening child." he says, looking you straight in the eye. "My name is Zoran, whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"