“Pets?” Thorax asked, her voice low. Whirlwind turned to her, eyes widening in alarm. “We aren’t his pe—” She stopped as she looked down at her hooves in confusion, suddenly unable to feel them anymore. Where once had been the red furred fetlocks of Crimson, there now stood glass hooves. The glass expanded, creeping up along her body, turning more and more of her to glass. Bit by bit, Thorax felt terrifying nothingness where her flesh and blood had once been. Her breath caught in her throat as the horrifying reality came across her. She tried to scream, but the magic had already reached her throat before encompassing her head, completely her transformation into a glass sculpture, utterly transparent and horrifically lifelike. Handy stood there in shock as he watched the changeling die before his eyes for doing nothing more than speaking out of turn.