The Drunk Poet Life Alert

She'd wiggle around the seatbelt with one hand and then turn to Sigfrid when she sat in the car.

"Young looking, small. Called himself Austin." She recalled. "He wanted my phone at first, but I was nearly mugged by a wererat a while back, so I get wary."

Stupid wererat. An abomination of man and animal. The raccoons were still very cool in her eyes, but raaaats just ewwwwwww.