The gloryless hero backed off and stopped for a second, his dried, crumbling face twisted into a hardly recognisable expression, a powerful roar blowing right through the room.
The sides of his face cracked, dust forcing its way out as he transformed his dead body into a legitimate werebear, his bestial form appeared just as fragile as his human cadaver at least in appearance, he kicked off the ground of the small tomb with accuracy, dragging Quideos outside in one move.
Stirring up the snow, flocks of birds flew up, left from right.
"So you still got a bit of personality up in there then? Are you really certain you don't want to put your undeserved title to use for the sake of good and goodness?" it was hard to read expressions on the face of a dead bear, but the hero was definitely taken aback at the moment.
The prophet had blocked both of his paws made for naught but slaughter with his bare hands, and he was still talking!