<div style="text-align: justify;">Of course, Frances would never have dreamed that the man right in front of her was a werewolf. Werewolves were not something she - or anyone she knew - believed in. They were at the most an interesting legend, and no more. A myth nobody even remembered the origins from whence it had come. At the most, a story to scare little children in small towns. Not even the children in the big cities, probably, believed in werewolves nowadays. Frances had heard about them as a child, but only as a threat her mother made when she wanted to go into the woods alone. It had not worked, it had to be said.<br/><br/>So, obviously, for Frances, that man was just that, a man. A pretty attractive one, she had to admit. Taking a deep breath, the girl removed her hoodie and placed it on the back of the chair the man had offered her.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0080">"Thank you so much. I will be a little less polite and accept your kind offer"</span>, the girl replied.<br/><br/>After sitting down, Frances had to make the remark Jake probably had heard a million times. <br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0080">"Damn, you're tall"</span>, she stated, looking the man up and down and shaking her head. <span style="color: #FF0080">"And I'm pretty sure you are tired of hearing that"</span>, she completed, and shook her head.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0080">"Anyway. I'm Frances, so nice to meet you and invade your refuge"</span>, the girl introduced herself, holding out her hand for a shake.</div>