Jo had just been reassuring another were about the sturdiness of cages, when she heard people approach from the other side. Saying goodbye to the were - roughly her age, big feline by his scent - the young girl turned to face the recently arrived people. "Hello, how can I-" She stopped upon recognizing the face, and most of all the smell, of the man standing in front of her. It was the one she had dubbed, for better or worse, Foxy. Sure he had told her his name and Jo probably remembered it, but for posterity he would always be Foxy in her mind. He seemed to remember her as well, verbalizing what she had been thinking right down to the whole clothing debacl. Lowering her head, Jo bit her bottom lip with a chuckle. "It was a skirt, but yeah that was me. Hi Foxy!" Jo looked up and smiled brightly. Jo's gaze shifted to the woman standing next to him. Her scent was unmistakable as well, but not foxy like him. She seemed outraged by the idea, leading Jo to wonder if there was something between her and Foxy. Then the girl decided it was none of her business.
"I'm Jo." She said, attempting to sound welcoming even through the woman's slight outrage. "I'm required to tell you I'm a born werewolf from a big pack and thus perfectly qualified to help you out. So how can I help?"