That's nice, Jock, but Mondo was light years away from the conversation you're currently trying to hold. He's more focused on the fact that the guy who is now standing over him was once a dog. A fluffy dog who chews bones and licks his face. AUGH GROSS. THIS DUDE LICKED HIS FACE.

The gang leader scrambles to his feet, wipes his face with his sleeve and backs away a step in his complete and utter stupefaction. He faces Jock with a perturbed grimace. "What ARE you... Some kinda werewolf?!" He didn't even believe in werewolves. NOW HE'S NOT SO SURE.