we don't even ask for happiness; just a little less pain
Finn should balk at the sight of the massive predator filling his vision. He should be staggering back, he should be screaming. But instead he merely watches the transformation with mild curiosity, a shudder running through him as a sound echoes from deep within the cave again. "There is something wrong with me," Finn says gently, even as he moves to try and clamber onto the manticore's back. It's clumsy, graceless and it takes more than one try, but eventually (and with the help of the alchemist), Finn is safely aboard.
Well. He's aboard. Safely is still yet to be determined. "I'm sorry," he says, the words sounding right on his tongue, but he doesn't really know why he's saying them. Either way, he's half sprawled against the lion's mane, the fur rough under his cheek, his eyes a little glazed as he curls his fingers through the mane with his remaining arm. "Ready."
Well. He's aboard. Safely is still yet to be determined. "I'm sorry," he says, the words sounding right on his tongue, but he doesn't really know why he's saying them. Either way, he's half sprawled against the lion's mane, the fur rough under his cheek, his eyes a little glazed as he curls his fingers through the mane with his remaining arm. "Ready."
FINN
