The soft white cat purrs at the cheek-rubs, at least until his attention is caught by the difficulties at the kitchen door. Difficulties that are, from his perspective, delaying food.

"Ah, Wen Ning," chuckles the cat, gingerly walking up Jin Guangyao's sleeve to the slight man's shoulder. "Let me help."

The cat leaps down. Or rather, leaps off. The catshape doesn't last long enough to reach the floor, however, growing ragged at the edges and brighter, and larger... There is the acrid, nerve-jangling scent of Free Magic - chaos and wildness and lightning - before the light fades and another young man stands there, bone-pale with stark white hair, wearing all white apart from his feet, which remain bare. He is smiling both with his mouth of very white teeth and his brilliantly green eyes, offering forth his hands to take Wen Ning's tray of food so that the fierce corpse may have both of his hands free to deal with the offending apron.