"Oh dear, oh dearie dearie... me," said - no, breathed, 'said' was much too human a word for that sinister corpse-like rattle - the figure. "A poor lost little... girl." It exhaled again, a stinking breath which smelt of rotting corpses, musty tombs and dried blood. "Poor little girl, come... here. Why don't you share a... drink with me? You smell... delicious. And are only dressed in a... chemise underneath that cloak. Why don't you... take it... off? You're dressing like you... want it"
Mindlessly, Louise's cold fingers scrabbled for her wand. She had to keep this thing talking, stop it doing whatever it was going to do, because things which looked like this and sounded like this and above all smelt like this were not good things to be around. "Dr-drink?" she stammered, half from fear and half from the cold and wet. "Wh-what kind of drink? Like... wine?"
"Wine?" the figure exhaled. "I do not drink... wine."
Louise's fingers closed around the shaft of her wand. "Well... uh, what about brandy?"
"I do not drink... brandy."
"Sherry?"
"I do not drink... sherry."
"Beer?"
"... I am fond of... beer, yes."
"R-really?"
The corpse-like figure in its tattered black robe... only that wasn't a robe was it, that was wings... grinned, revealing elongated canines. "No. Guess again, poor little lost... girl."