"Yeah-yeah. Hoo-hoo to you, too, beast," Fyair addressed the gawking bird and the lantern clinked and claddered in his permanent grip as he attempted to wave up at the feathery stalker. He stared at the lamp as owlishly as the creature above upon him. His fingers... Hell, the whole of his hand felt numb and useless despite the urge of his brain to his appendage to open wide. Dropping the accursed thing just wasn't possible. For a silent moment, he even wondered then contemplated if he could break the bones and remove it by pure force alone. Though, as if on cue, the scales made themselves known and rippled beneath his knuckles. No, also not an option. The owl hooted and he glared pass the lantern up into the branches, "Laugh all you want."
His ears perked at the distant echo of the little princess and finally made an effort to move. Be it the simple crane of his neck to spy into the dark, thick woods. He signed. That girl was more hassle than anything if she were out playing with unfriendly creatures. The mountain waited for a scream of help or even the sickening crunch of bones, but the only sound that came was the voice of a mature woman and lifted his head in the direction of the invite.
The sore knight groaned like the low rumble of distant thunder as he forced his stiff and painful body into a sit. "Ugh... My lady, this feels like a curse! I should learn gambling is a sin," despite the agony, he chuckled and allowed a friendly grin under brows pinched together by pain, "You did give fair warning." Fyair's grayed eyes tracked the warrior's movements to a younger lad he was just now noticing near a corpse he was also seeing for the first time. Did his lantern play a part in murder? Not that he felt responsible, clearly breaking ancient objects had consequences. Wrong place, wrong time for the dead boy then.
"Since you're allowing it, I'd be grateful to follow along," he turned his attention again to the tattooed woman, "You're kind to help a fool with self-inflicted damage." The lumbering man grunted and groaned some more as he heaved himself to stand upon the lead heavy weights he called legs. The whole of his being felt like one solid foreign mass under the changes of the lantern. Gravity seemed like more of a threat than anything in his present state. Wary if he lifted his foot to take a step, the ground would find his back again like a crude cradled. None of others seemed to be in much of a hurry, so he opted to wait. Not wait as much as gather the courage to trust his new form to corporate properly and avoid any more embarrassment than he already suffered. He was useless to his princess as a shaking mountain, hoping if said mages had a cure, he might be able to find her again. Seeing if she wasn't eaten first or continued to play hide and seek. An oath was an oath until death.