Sunday animal friendliness
You've been turned into an animal! You retain your memories and intelligence, but probably don't have opposable thumbs (unless you're going for the simian family) or the ability to talk (maybe you're a very eloquent parrot, idk).
The 'how' of how this happened is up to you, or can be left unspecified. More important is... what the heck do you do? How do you communicate your plight to friends and family (or do you)? Will you be caught and snuggled mercilessly by someone charmed with your fuzzy little self? Or shot as a menace to society if you're a little less cute?
Emil's POV here....from his lupine side.
The minute that Emil began feeling woozy, he knew he shouldn't have eaten that fortune cookie. "Though I wish it had turned me into something more domesticated," he thought as he padded around his office. His best suit was lying in shreds on the floor, and his desk chair was collapsed in a heap. He whined as he saw that he could cross the room in only a couple of strides; even now he was starting to feel the walls pressing in.
In a way this transformation made a lot of sense. Marce did always say to him that he was like a big, cuddly and overprotective wolf while she was more like a scrappy stray cat. However a stray cat could live in the city, but the same couldn't be said for a full grown wolf.
Emil whined again as he saw his paws leaving gouges on the wooden floor. He glanced up at the doorknob, already hearing footsteps coming towards his office. "Please don't let it be one of the guards with a gun," he thought, trying to make himself small behind his desk.
The 'how' of how this happened is up to you, or can be left unspecified. More important is... what the heck do you do? How do you communicate your plight to friends and family (or do you)? Will you be caught and snuggled mercilessly by someone charmed with your fuzzy little self? Or shot as a menace to society if you're a little less cute?
Emil's POV here....from his lupine side.
The minute that Emil began feeling woozy, he knew he shouldn't have eaten that fortune cookie. "Though I wish it had turned me into something more domesticated," he thought as he padded around his office. His best suit was lying in shreds on the floor, and his desk chair was collapsed in a heap. He whined as he saw that he could cross the room in only a couple of strides; even now he was starting to feel the walls pressing in.
In a way this transformation made a lot of sense. Marce did always say to him that he was like a big, cuddly and overprotective wolf while she was more like a scrappy stray cat. However a stray cat could live in the city, but the same couldn't be said for a full grown wolf.
Emil whined again as he saw his paws leaving gouges on the wooden floor. He glanced up at the doorknob, already hearing footsteps coming towards his office. "Please don't let it be one of the guards with a gun," he thought, trying to make himself small behind his desk.