Y/N woke up with a pounding headache, her mind still shrouded in the heavy fog of sleep. She groaned and instinctively reached for her forehead, only to yelp in shock when she felt something entirely foreign. Instead of the smoothness of her skin or the familiar strands of her hair, her fingers brushed against soft, fluffy fur—pure white as snow and undeniably real. What the hell is going on with me? she thought, panic lacing her mind as she spun in a small circle, her heart racing.

There was no denying it; she was small, fluffy, and decidedly feline, complete with four paws where her legs had once been. She couldn't help but flex her tiny claws, the sensation both strange and oddly delightful. I wanted an exciting life, but not like this! she exclaimed internally, her thoughts racing.

With a frustrated sigh, she surveyed her surroundings. She was nestled in a cozy cat bed, surrounded by vibrant, colorful toys and a scattering of sunbeams filtering through the window, illuminating the room. None of it felt familiar; in fact, it was a house she didn't recognize at all.

Her contemplation was abruptly interrupted by the sound of heavy, deliberate paw steps approaching. Instinctively, she froze, her heart pounding in her small chest. A large dog appeared in the doorway, his coat a mix of golden and brown, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, you're awake," he said, tail wagging energetically, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

She blinked in disbelief. Did she just understand the dog? How was that possible? A flood of questions thundered through her mind as the reality of her situation pressed down on her like a weight. She was stuck in a cat's body, able to understand a dog! Okay, take a deep breath, she silently coached herself, trying to regain some semblance of control. This can't be real.

The dog blinked its big, beady eyes at her, an unmistakable glimmer of curiosity shining through. "It's real," he said matter-of-factly, and she froze in disbelief. The weight of his words sank in, and she found herself stammering, "H-how?"

The dog merely shook his head, a sympathetic tilt to his expression. "How would I know? I can tell you this, girlie, I'm as surprised as you are." There was a hint of warmth in his voice, a strange comfort that cut through her confusion.

"W-what's your name?" she managed to ask, narrowing her eyes as she tried to focus. The vibrant colors of the room were overwhelming, a kaleidoscope of sights that were both new and disorienting. "Zenith," the dog replied simply, his tail wagging contentedly, sending a few scattered toys rolling across the floor.

"Zenith..." she repeated, testing the name on her tongue. It felt peculiar to utter it with a meow rather than her usual human inflection. "That's... nice.

"Come along now," Zenith said, stepping forward with a quiet authority. "Our owners would probably like you to get some food, I'm sure."

Food. Her stomach grumbled at the mention, reminding her that despite the bizarre turn of events, some things never changed. With a quick nod, she leapt out of the cat bed—her movements graceful yet clumsy, her small paws landing softly on the floor.

Zenith looked back at her, his expression encouraging. "Just follow me," he instructed, and she did, marveling at how natural it felt to stalk after him, her senses heightened. Each step was an exploration filled with newfound sensations—the coolness of the floor against her paws, the scent of something savory drifting through the air, and the delightful thrum of energy pulsing through her tiny body.

As they made their way down the hall, she absorbed everything: the soft carpet beneath her paws, the sunlight warming her fur, and the curious pictures adorning the walls. "What... what type of food?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, you know, the usual—cat kibble, probably. Or maybe some tuna if we're lucky!" Zenith replied, his tone lighthearted, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. "Either way, you need to eat to get your strength back."

Her heart raced at the thought of food, but deeper questions gnawed at her mind. Would she stay stuck like this forever? Could she ever go back to being herself? "Zenith," she started hesitantly, "do you think I'll ever... change back?"

The dog paused, his expression turning serious, and for a fraught moment, everything felt suspended in the air between them. "I don't know," he said finally, his voice gentle yet firm. "But for now, let's focus on what we can control: food, and figuring this all out together."