Some would have me believe it is a blessing, to be stripped of all we are and made into something else.

[For all that he controls his tone and emotions, there's no mistaking that he's not happy about it at all. And perhaps she wasn't either - she didn't decry his calling it an affliction, after all.]

I find myself wondering if it truly is easier over time, or if this place merely pressures the mind into conforming to its wishes as resignation sets in. Or if in the end it matters, one way or the other.

[Feathered naga! There's something he hadn't considered, though reflection on it makes him wonder if it was truly a concern. All possibilities surely existed..

Almost absently he rubs at an arm, frowning faintly. It's something to puzzle over, and he's not going to acquiesce quietly.]

I know not how one simply acclimates over time to such a thing as a change of species. To lose touch with all that one was, including base instinct and thought.. what remains of what came before?

[After a moment, he shakes his head as if to dismiss the topic entirely. It's morbid, and unsuited perhaps to idle chatter at a party.]

Forgive me. I am not a willing subject to such a thing as this.