It takes a few moments for an answer, strangled inhaling taking up precious moments to speak. Sick on top of being a terrible werewolf, isn't that nice.

Hell. They're so tired. They've been wondering--if they lie down somewhere after they change, don't get anything to eat, will they die? Maybe that'd be worth it for a break.

No, no, no, everything is okay. Okay enough. They can deal with this. This encounter especially.

"Frisk," they say...but find they still can't step forward. They smell like blood and dirt and sweat and something magic. "'M here."