Oh goodness.

She needs a few seconds to figure out what to compose because goodness—spelling out her sentences is the exact wrong intersection of 'unable to immediately say the first thing that occurs to her' and 'requiring a level of pre-planning she's doomed to overthink'—but she eventually collects herself well enough to manage a reply.

I have a giant crush on you that I've been ignoring because I'm a fox, she painstakingly writes. And it's not like you know what I look like or what it's like to properly speak to me, or anything.

"I don't think I need to know what you look like. And I have a pretty good idea of what it might be like to properly speak to you, and I'm very much looking forward to it."

She makes a little happy yip and boops him with her nose. She's not allowed to snuggle him because dirt, but she can boop him.

After another break to compose herself:

I could be an eighty-four year old grandmother! You don't know!

"I bet you aren't. And I'd still want to snuggle you if you were."

That's very flattering, she informs him, because nothing else is coming to mind.

"You're very cute, and I don't think all of that is because you're small and soft and fluffy. I don't think even most of it is. I think it's mostly just you being yourself."

To be fair, it is easier to be cute when I'm a fox.

"It's much harder to say interesting clever endearing things, and yet you keep managing it!"

She blinks at him.

Really? I've felt like I haven't had all that many chances to display cleverness.

"Clearly you've had enough to get the point across. You're - smart and thoughtful and witty and - 'ambitious' isn't quite the word I want - you have things you want to do and you mean to do them."

Flatterer, she accuses, but she gives a little pleased yip.

He grins at her and taps the end of her nose again.

You're sweet. She taps him gently with her nose right back. And I really need a bath, it's getting very hard not to snuggle you.

"All right. A bath you shall have."

And he teleports them both to her fox-sized bathroom. It's a very neat transition; one moment they're on the floor of the front hall, and then the world seems to slide smoothly in some unspecified direction, and they arrive in the bathroom without any overt sense of movement at all.

Oh, he can take along passengers! That's convenient.

She yips happily up at him, then hops in the tub and gets to making there be water. At the proper temperature, of course.

Soon enough, there is water!

And soap! And a helpful assistant!

All excellent things!

The helpful assistant should talk, though. She noses him and yips encouragingly.

"—are you telling me I should talk more? I'm going to get such a swelled head at this rate. 'As we all know, listening to me run my mouth is the greatest joy this world offers...'"

Well, now she's giggling too hard to answer that.

That qualifies as an answer! Isfain giggles too.

Soon enough she recovers from her gigglefit, and nuzzles his hand and yips an affirmative.

"Hmm... so, at this point I think I'm probably going to have a solution to your problem in a few months, sooner if I am very clever and make an unprecedented breakthrough, which I have been known to do on occasion. And then I think I'm going to adapt my defoxing ritual into something I could cast while transformed, just in case, and then ask you to fetch your music box so I can try to reverse-engineer the fox curse and turn it into something voluntary for you."

Aww! Awwwww! He's a sweetheart.

She trills at him affectionately and nuzzles his hand again.

"Oh, as though I was ever going to turn down the opportunity to make obscure but fascinating magical advances." Wash wash rinse rinse. "Hmm. I declare this fox officially dirt-free."

He earns an amused (and somewhat affectionate) look for his answer, and then a happy yip at this declaration.

She is however not water-free, so uh. She's going to just wait patiently in the tub for a towel.