“Ugh... Huh?” His eyelids dared to open, slowly rising their way to consciousness. In his line of vision, he saw wooden panels, feet walking towards him, a hand, a wall, some strange diminishing flames, a- Wait. What? A hand...?<br/><br/>He willed for his claws to touch his face, but all that stared back in his direction were fleshy spiders for ‘paws’, long digits, soft, curling towards him. Instead of vicious, razor claws, long nails tidily trimmed his fingertips. In a flash of heated emotion, the creature, confused and alert, jumped in shock. Looking across his body to check its fur, an alarm sounded from Crone as long, deep metallic hair pooled down his sides. He rolled around on the floor in circles for a moment, completely ignoring the presence of the mage, frightened at his lack of glorious wings, or smooth fur, or anything that wasn’t so lanky and weak-looking as this thing that he was currently chained to! “<span style="font-weight: bold">What have you done?!</span>” His voice rang deep and gravelly, as though he were trying to pronounce throaty wolf growls that didn’t quite mature yet. Irritated, he snapped his head at the girl, finally taking a moment to eye her. “I<span style="font-style: italic">swear</span>, girl, you’re going to regret you ever pressed that wishy washy spell into me!” Ready to pounce, Crone jumped up and advanced towards the mage but immediately tripped and slammed face-first onto the cold ground before he could even make his first step.<br/><br/>Crone winced. If he didn’t hate the feeling of being human, he definitely despised it now. “...Being human hurts too much; why are your kind so<span style="font-weight: bold">weak</span>?!” An annoyed sigh rushed from his pale face, barely able to stand on two ‘hind legs’ as he was used to his usual four. It felt as though he were being reborn as a puppy again; struggling to walk and finding it difficult to speak, feeling so looked down upon really wound up his gears. It was going to take some time getting used to, he realised, slowly propping himself up with his arms as his lengthy hair spiraled around his angular, narrow face. He resorted to sinking into a chair the mage had kept in the particular room, preventing himself from further embarrassment. His hand feeling his face, in turn, led to his mind feeling severely disappointed with the lack of a muzzle, a sensitive jet black nose, or puffed up, triangular ears. It felt as though his wits and his senses had been dulled, clogged, and a heavy heart sat in his chest. In a wave of realisation, Crone tilted his head down to sit between his palms.<br/><br/>“I’m so<span style="font-weight: bold">UGLY</span>. Ew...” His voice crackled in sadness. He wanted to howl, but saved his breath knowing that it wouldn’t be the same. Helpless, Crone furrowed his brows as he noted the only possible way to change back was to ask a stupid human for help. ‘Don’t worry, mate, you can do this,’ he thought, and with most of his dignity already drained from him, he’d may as well take a shot.<br/><br/>“Human with weird powers. Whatever the hell your name is. Turn me back and I won’t stick my nose in your business again. You’ve won. Happy?” His words were blunt and forced as he turned his head to watch her. He followed his almond eyes down her deep chocolate hair, about her slender body and fair complexion, and stared with a neutral, gradually calmer face. Without the physical power to release his anger, his emotions converted to woe, relaxing... Perhaps it were this beating heart, that he’d only felt from others, that was slowing down his tempo, his pulse.<br/><br/>Though realising he had become his own food, it was a little gross to think humans felt all mushy like that, even for a brief moment.