What does what you are now say about what you've always been, then?

[His wings keep growing and growing until their full span is twice his height, and with one final snap they settle as they are, his torn skin beginning to mend itself around them. He'd changed shape plenty of times before, but only by his own will. This was someone else's magic forcing its will on him. These horns felt heavy on his head, the wings strange and awkward.

But it was nothing he couldn't get used to. All things considered, he was satisfied with what he was becoming. It was what so many people had seen him as over the years, it may be an enjoyable experience to become one for real. He turns to look back at his new wings.]

Huh. They match my outfit. [As in: all black.] Awful considerate of the Fog God to take my fashion sense into account.