Ben smiled. "Yeah, it does have that 'falling down a rabbit hole' feel to it," he said. "Only problem is, you can't shut the damn book on this one, and I was never a huge Lewis Carroll fan anyhow."
He pushed the lighter over when she asked for a light, strangely pleased that she'd taken a cigarette. Odd form of bonding, but he'd take whatever he could get right now, and she was friendly. Shame she was married, really. He remembered his manners, then lifted the lighter and flicked it into life for her to light her cigarette, putting it back on the table when she leaned back from it.
His eyes narrowed when she spoke on and, for a moment, he was sure all the color had drained from his face. Not that there was much given the way he was hurting. He had a brief mental flash of fur and teeth and fury, but when he tried to dwell on it it was gone. "Monsters?" he asked when he'd gotten himself enough in control to trust his voice again. "But that's just not possible. Lycanthropy - and from that I guess any therianthropy - it's a mental condition, not physical. Has he seen a doctor about his... dreams?" He gave her an apologetic look at the last, but "dreams" sounded far more palatable at this stage than "delusions".