[Celuien]

Celuien blinked and rubbed her eyes at the entrance of the fashion-conscious wolf. She had never seen such a marvel before. The only lycanthropes she had previously encountered were terrifying, villager-devouring werebeasts. She was quite glad to see that the creature was friendly.

Celuien's dust allergy was still bothering her. She had not brought any Tylènòl, Sòodhafèd, or other useful Anakronisms with her to the party. Fortunately, her diminished olfaction kept her from being disturbed by Fordim's malodorous condition. Her ear caught by Fêyberry's comment, she took a closer look at Fordim's hand. Indeed, the finger had grown back. And one of the holes in his body seemed smaller. Perhaps more hugs would help. Celuien was willing to test the theory. Bravely stepping into the puddle of ooze that surrounded what remained of Fordim's feet, she moved forward and gave him a hug. She then retreated, trying her best not to splash the puddles too much, and awaited the results...