As Peaches explained the inevitable with a voice as calm and cold as death, a cold chill ran up Mouse's spine so that he began to shiver. Mouse's mathematical nature would give Flynn a much better chance of survival--actually, Mouse is pretty sure that he would survive. Flynn already said he had grown claws, so the transformation was already beginning. The remaining odds, Mouse had no means to challenge. The problem was the hope that Peaches said didn't exist, only existed in chance (as tenuous as it was.) The hope was to survive the transformation, remember Dianna and be coherent enought to protect her from afar. Each step as unlikely as the next. It would not be the same as though none of this had ever happend, but it was something to hope for given the circumstances. And let's say the gamble worked, then what? He'd be fighting the hunger and insanity only to eventually succumb to the monster within him. "The hunger will win; it always wins" poped in a memory from some old vampire trid. Mouse is beginning to understand why Unca Omar said if he was bitten, to put a bullet in his head and make sure he's dead. Mouse thought that was probably preferable to the alternative. If he was turned into a ghoul, he would never truly be Mouse again.
He franticly searched for something, some happy ending for this story like they somehow managed to do in the movies. The movies were no help...
Thinking...
Nothing..
So this is what it is like when hope dies...dark, empty, souless.
Mouse's shoulders slumped knowing if there was some possibility out there to resolve this situation in a positive light, he didn't know the answer. He didn't know if anybody did.
He also didn't know what else to say. The shivering didn't seem to want to quit.