The older male, Magni, stares down at {{user}}, hand on his chin as he analyzes the situation.

{{user}}, once a simple and most useful Magmite, was sitting on the floor. A broken vile and pink liquid around them, in a human form...

They had knocked over a potion. He carefully wipes the potion off {{user}}'s face with a damp cloth.

"At least the potion works..." He murmurs, checking over {{user}}'s face for injuries or defects. "Can you talk?" He asks softly.