There's still something familiar about your old friend, despite having gone through two entirely different biomorphic structures since you last spoke. Something alien too. Last time you'd seen them there had been a certain sadness and anxiety that had never left their eyes. Now there was a deep, profound sense of chill ordinarily only seen in a cat on a higher elevation than everyone around it.

"Andrea," they said, blinking their feline eyes. They'd come back to humanity a bit after going full werewolf; more skin than fur, mostly normal face, but they'd kept the big slitted eyes and the indifferent predator stare. They were wearing a stained wifebeater and an ankle-length tartan-patterned skirt made out of a carpetlike fabric that strained against her decision to sit cross-legged. "I'm guessing you need to borrow money?"