She’d been warned by quite a few at the bacchanal to not mock the music. It was told that these were, supposedly, Apollo’s favorite musicians. But Dinea was not known for her common sense, or polite attitude.

It was after her third insult to the quality of the lyrics and melody, and her third chastisement, that she finally muttered, “It isn’t as if Apollo is playing. What’s he going to do, just give me asses ears like Midas?”

Shortly after she felt her fingers in one arm start to cramp up and fuse together into a mass of keratin. Fur started to grow up her arm as a tail pushed out of the base of her spine. She cried out as she looked in shock at her transforming body, but it was mostly a series of brays instead of human shouting.

If she hadn’t been screaming so much she may have noticed her new ears did make the music sound sweeter.