Maria couldn't help her small - tiny - smirk at his weird joke. "Fawley?" She asked - he must've grown up in the system. She couldn't help but wonder if it was because of his condition. Of course, he hadn't even confirmed he was a Were, but she couldn't imagine he wasn't. He certainly looked the part and worked for Belby. She couldn't think of any reason someone who wasn't a Were would work for Were Rights, right? It's not like 'normal' people - non-lycanthropes - cared about them anyway. Most people feared them, or hated them, or just made small remarks or gestures that still said the same thing. People who claimed to care were just as bad as those who outright hated them - the people who claimed to care pitied Maria and her ilk. That was worse, if you asked her.
She sighed and stomped on the butt of her smoke. Seeing him pull out another she did the same. She missed Coira, hadn't seen her since New Years Eve.
"So," she looked around, feeling twitchy, "You're a Were?" How old was he? Weres tended to look older - as a people they were just... worn out... faster than others. Couldn't blame 'em for it.