Roxy could hear the pride in Jo’s voice and it was a feeling that she knew well. She imagined that Jo was a part of a pack (weren’t most wolves in nature?), comprised of a good number of her family members. Though she wasn’t sure what a collective of penguins were called -- a mental note was made to look that up later -- she knew what it was like to surround oneself with your own kind, and how fun that could be. There were a number of questions that entered her mind suddenly, ones that had never occurred to her despite being friends with other weres; like, for example, did Jo have a special activity she did with her family on the night of the full moon? Surely Roxy’s family weren’t the only ones that celebrated the night they were forced to shift. “Me too!” Of course she felt the need to share this exciting common trait; what better way was there to make new friends?
She gave a slight cringe at the idea that her scent was predominantly “fishy” in smell. “Icy” and “Birdy” she could live with, but she knew that the smell of fish was not one that appealed to many people, however much she begged to differ. “It does.” The smile she paired with the answer showed that she had quickly come to terms with her odd scent. Roxy would have been all too happy to share her description of Jo’s wolf smell, but, of course, she couldn’t -- that, and she was pretty sure that Jo was well acquainted with the scent of werewolves. At the compliment, she twirled a thick strand of hair around her finger. “Why thank you.” She wasn’t sure if it had crossed into the realm of vanity, but she never grew tired of hearing compliments about her hair. Considering the amount of time she spent dying and caring for it, it was nice to hear that others appreciated looking at it. The only thing that Roxy grew tired of was when people announced things like, “Did you know your hair was PINK!?” as if she had suddenly woken up with an unnatural hair color, or said something like, “I guess its a shame you’ll never get a real job” as though they couldn’t possibly believe that she had a job, as a paramedic no less. “But your hair is cute too.” Without stopping to think of personal space, Roxy reached out and touched the longest strand of hair near Jo’s eyes. “I’ve always liked short hair, but I don’t think I could carry it very well. That and I’m too scared to cut all this off.”