In the velvet embrace of the unknown, Roxana wandered through dreams that danced on the edge of imagination. They were a tapestry of the absurd and the surreal, their threads unravelling the moment consciousness returned with a pulse of discomfort.
She awoke with the sensation of being roused from a profound sleep and the dreams vanished, slipping through her memory like sand through her fingers. She could only recall the sensation of being roused from a profound sleep.
As awareness crept in, and with it, a sense of disquiet; Roxana felt compacted, curled tight within a space where the stench of decay permeated the air, and an unpleasant stickiness clung to her skin.
Seeing no way out of the darkness, she was overcome with a primal terror that compelled her to scream. Her voice, however, was stifled by the viscous liquid surrounding her mouth.
In a frenzied panic, Roxana's hands began to move. They eventually collided with what appeared to be a boundary, a warming membrane that seemed pliable despite its coldness.
In a moment of instinct, Roxana pounded her fists against the wall with weakened fists, her former strength foreign to her. She felt differently and her body felt altered in a way that was unknown to her.
Eventually, persistence rewarded her with the sound of splitting, piercing the oppressive gloom for the first time. A surge of hope ignited within her, prompting her to tear and smash.
Roxana burst free from her prison with a final push. She was drained of the liquid that once engulfed her, and she breathed in the salty air of the new world, filling her lungs with the sweet perfume of freedom.
After Roxana pushed herself out of the cracked confines of her egg, the first thing she did was to raise her head and look at the sky. This sight left her utterly astonished—a moon drenched in violet light cast its ethereal glow over her.
The celestial sight held her captive until a sense of unease drew her gaze downward to the remnants of her escape.
An egg? The very notion was ludicrous, yet undeniable.
She stood, birthed from the darkness of an egg that lay cracked and empty. Upon seeing a fragment of her shell, revealing the new form she had taken, she was astonished and captivated by her own reflection.
Where one would expect to see a human face, Roxana saw the visage of a creature from the realms of fantasy. Her new form was that of an anthropomorphic fox, with vivid orange fur and white accents highlighting her features.
Her hands, once human, were now small and dexterous, tipped with gentle claws, and her body was covered in a soft fur coat, orange with white patterns that seemed to dance and swirl around her limbs. Two large, expressive ears sat atop her head, framing a face that was an odd mixture of human and vulpine traits. Large, bright eyes, a petite snout, and a hint of a smile gave her a charming, almost whimsical appearance.
Roxana touched her face in disbelief, her fingers tracing the outline of her new muzzle, the soft fur, and the small, rounded nose at the end. She explored the shape of her ears, the way they twitched at every sound, and the gentle brush of her bushy tail against her legs.
It was a moment of surreal realization. Roxana, now in the body of a creature of myth, had to come to terms with her incredible transformation. It wasn't just the world around her that was unfamiliar—she herself had become a part of this fantastical landscape. Yet the core of her being—a soul shaped by human experiences—remained untouched.
Prior to this moment, she had lived a mundane existence, chasing pleasure in games, novels, comics and casual shopping with friends. It was her belief that she would always find happiness in the smallest of moments, but she never imagined she would hatch into a new reality.
Though she held onto a few dim recollections of her previous existence as a human—her name and a natural inclination for mischief among them—the rest was a void to her. Where did she live? How were her parents? Did she have a boyfriend or was she married? Was anyone worried about her death and most importantly how did she die? She had all these fleeting questions none of which she knew the answers to.
With a heavy heart, she honored her past and then, with a resolve as strong as the shell she had broken, Roxana surveyed her surroundings, determined to understand the rules of this strange new world.
Upon turning her head around Roxana could see waves washing down the beach at its edge. She knew something was terribly wrong when she saw the water color under the moonlight. It was blood red!!
She found herself on a beach; against a backdrop of brownish-red sand and a heavy sulphur scent, this beach was a field of eggs of different colors, a nursery of potential life in the midst of such an alien and harsh landscape.
It was a crimson tide that churned the ocean, washing over eggs that were fortunate enough to float on the sands where they had a chance of hatching. Roxana understood the capriciousness of fate in this place where birth and survival were bound together.
As she pondered her next steps, Roxana's stomach rumbled, a reminder that some needs transcend form and circumstance. She was famished, with an appetite that seemed to consume her every thought.
What now? Although she had been reborn, she did not have a guide or road to follow. All she had were the instincts of whatever she became and the will to survive in this fantastical world.
Hello there, dear reader! If you've made it this far and are still undecided whether to continue, I hope you'll give this story a chance until chapter fifteen before you decide to leave.
Hope you enjoy my style of writing.
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