Quinlan released Blossom and planted a boot against its forehead. Short legs continued pumping against the ground while the creature reached for him, unable to bring its filthy body a finger closer.
"How cruel!!" it wailed. "Your love should survive every form! What kind of husband rejects his innocent wife because she has warts?!"
Green skin flowed beneath his boot. The hooked nose receded, broken teeth straightened, and white hair poured down around a lovely foxkin face. Five tails burst from Kitsara's back, fanning across the tunnel while her clothes returned around her curves.
Kitsara had worn the solid goblin's body through [Perfect Form]; the four creatures she had recalled were projections of her detached tails.
Morgana's knees failed.
Quinlan caught her with a current of wind, easing her to the ground as he came to crouch beside her. The cold soaked through her robes while she clung to her staff.
"It was..."
Her throat closed.
"This was a fucking joke?"
