[you can't hide behind your hair from a gold medalist in the Hiding Behind My Hair Olympics, Al. Freya watches him as he gets dressed, feeling more unsettled about this situation than ever. She manages a soft smile at his question, though, and shakes her head firmly.]

I'm sure. Consider them yours. You can't go around half-dressed, and I've got clothes already—and fur, too. This new body of yours doesn't even have that.

[his new body doesn't have much of anything, honestly. He's so thin that he almost vanishes inside his borrowed clothes, and she regards him anxiously.]