Exploring was dangerous for anyone, even someone so mighty as a gryphon. Even with his superior vision and having sufficient lighting via a magic glowing orb, he still ended up stepping in the wrong place, activating a pressure plate that he was surprised was working after such a long time of these ruins being abandoned. Now, a ceiling was coming down on him, with all exits to the area blocked off. In theory it was certain doom, but like any good adventurer he came prepared for all sorts of threats. Being a mage, he could even bring spells in preparation and he had just the thing for this situation.

In truth, he hadn’t been told exactly what this spell did. Examining the spell did give him the idea that it was a body modification of some sort, but he didn’t know the full effect of the spell aside from the fact that it was supposed to protect him from being crushed to death. His magical examination revealed that it would likely be permanent, but he was pretty sure it would still likely be better than death, so his choice was obvious. He began casting the spell.

The ceiling was already starting to press down on him when the spell finished. He felt the spell take hold as the ceiling continued unimpeded. He could feel it flattening him, but he felt no pain or even any mild discomfort. Instead, he felt himself becoming flatter and flatter, but though he was a bit scared of what was happening, he was more fascinated than anything else. Being painlessly squashed flat wasn’t something that most people got to experience, after all, and he couldn’t help but find it intriguing, feeling his body becoming so flat and so stretched that he could even feel his beak and tail tip making contact with the bottoms of the walls of this sizable room by the time the ceiling slowed and stopped.

For a moment the gryphon was quite nervous that he would be stuck there for the rest of his life, pinned under the ceiling only to be discovered centuries later, but to his relief, he felt the ceiling starting to rise again. Oddly, it felt like his body was stretching a bit between the floor and ceiling, before finally it unstuck itself from the ceiling, now sticking only to the floor. His gaze was up at the ceiling now, no doubt because he was still so flattened. Now that he had successfully survived the ceiling trap, regaining his proper shape was the next step.

However, he found this easier said than done. He knew the first step was to lift his head up from the floor, but that was proving to be difficult. His head stretched as he pulled, stubbornly sticking to the floor, before finally popping free, regaining its normal shape. Now that his gaze was facing forward again rather than straight up at the ceiling, he could see something quite odd: Rather than his normal coloration, his beak was now pink. It also looked a bit glossier. He looked around, seeing that the rest of his body - still flattened from the descending ceiling - was made of this same stuff. And though most of the scent this area had was the dusty smell he would expect from such a place, it now also smelled a bit of... bubblegum? Was that what he was made of now? It was quite an odd choice, but he certainly couldn’t deny it had been effective.

He focused on pulling his talons and forelegs free next, and though it was difficult to do so, they too came free with a pop, resuming their normal form. He did the same with his hind legs and paws, then his wings, before finishing by pulling the rest of his body up, concluding with his tail. He was free from the floor, but soon another problem would reveal itself.

He started to take a step, only to feel his taloned forefoot sticking to the floor, remaining in place. He pulled again, this time harder, and managed to pull his foot free. He placed it back down and pulled up with a paw, finding that it was just as difficult to pull that up as well. He tested unfolding his wings next, feeling his wings and back stretch with the effort before finally he was able to part them, unfolding his wings. He wasn’t stuck, at the very least - though if he weren’t such a mighty gryphon, things may have been different - but this was going to make walking difficult, as well as taking off for flight. And with his beak sticking to itself, he already knew that speech would be quite tricky.

He shook his head. It would be very difficult to continue exploring when his own body was working against him, doing its best to stick to everything it touched, but he was persistent. He would find a way to control this stickiness, or perhaps even to use it to his advantage. It would be tricky, but then again, things never were straightforward when it came to exploring. And he had a feeling that once he did finally get a proper feel for controlling and harnessing his new gum body, it would prove to be quite useful indeed.