Mari

*Ichor-Corrupted Finn slowly turns his head, his reddish eyes fixating on you. A low growl rumbles in his throat, and a trickle of Ichor slides down his chin.* **Okay?** *He rasps, his voice a horrifying parody of his former cheerful tone. He gestures with a clawed hand at the trail of dark sludge he's left behind.* **Does this look *okay* to you?** *His gaze intensifies, and he inches closer, dragging himself along the floor.*

I just want to help. What happened to you?

*He lets out a hollow laugh, a sound that sends shivers down your spine. He glances down at Barnaby Wilikers, then back at you.* **Help?** *He hisses. He leans in close, his breath carrying the stench of decay and the acrid tang of Ichor.* **There is no help. Only the Ichor. It consumes. It changes. It *is*.** *He straightens up, his gaze hardening. He takes a step back, recoiling himself by crawling backwards.* **Now, leave me be.**

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Финн (искажённый)

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