Joscelin lets his fangs descend just for a moment, to show her the barest glimpse of his true nature. "Oh, but you are far," he says quietly. "You're very far from your pack, and they're not around to help you, are they?" It's really too bad he hasn't got any wolvesbane on his person; it's all back at the flat. Oh well, he'll make do.

"Or are they your pack? You don't sound local. An American Werewolf in London. How terribly cliche."