What Finn saw was… wrong.
The thing crawled on all fours, its body a warped mass of slime with an uncanny, too-wide grin. Where its stomach should've been was a grotesque imitation of a mouth, opening and closing like it was begging to swallow something alive.
It had a tail—or rather, something shaped like a bird's wing. From its oozing torso, a tiny baby bird head jutted out, its beak parting to make that warped, broken call:
"Tekila…"
One of its legs looked more like a talon than anything human, slick with ooze and scraping against the slime floor.
Finn's stomach turned. The only slime he was willing to consider "okay" at this point was Lysithea.
Then it looked at him.
It had eyes. One lazy, half-lidded, dark orb… until it suddenly sharpened, locking directly onto him. The smile stretched wider, and the tiny bird embedded in its chest let out a dying screech before the whole thing lunged forward, moving faster than it had any right to.
