You awaken to the sound of the nearby trickling forest stream. You groggily move your vulpine head about to see that the sun has not yet crested a far off mountain range. Your head flops back down on your tail, this has to be a dream; you've had realistic dreams before that've taken you several minutes to get over, you even half way recognized them as dreams as they were happening. As much as you want to, you're not ready to go back to sleep, and spend several minutes just watching your fluffy tail over your prominent muzzle.
At least ten minutes pass and enough of your faculties return to make you reaccept your new form. You crawl out from beneath your bush and stretch like a cat. You try letting out a yawn but hear a shrill cross beneath howl and a screaming cat. A kink in your back from where you slept on a pinecone keeps you on all fours while you hurridly walk up to your stream. You look at your canine mouth's reflection carefully as you try making words and sounding out syllabuls. You seem only capable of gutteral growls and high pitch barks until you manage an odd howl that seems to incorporate all the vowels and about ten constenants. You might be able to make words with practice, but you'll need to practice to master your unfamiliar vocal cords. Right now talking can't be your number one priority, and with firm resolve you stand up and make towards a mountain peak with a distinctive rock formation at its summit.
You're thinking much clearer now than the night before. You don't know how much of what you remember is real, but apparently the turning into a fox man thing really happened. In retrospect you had been suffering from shock, it's a good thing you hadn't gone and done anything irrational. You pick up a straight stick to help you move up the gradually increasing slope. Now the trees are actively working against you as fallen trunks and deep brush make walking upward impossible. You need to get some altitude to figure out where to go next, otherwise give up and live as an animal.
Faced with your own ultimatum you toss your hiking stick and continue up on all fours. Now able to crawl through brush without worrying about getting caught on you sensitive areas, you move quickly. You reach a meadow on the mountain side, the rock formation a couple hundred feet ahead of you. From the sun's position you'd say it's about nine, though estimating time was something you never to do as a regular person. Your digitigrade legs make walking uphill upright difficult, using your arms as forelegs it was more like using all four limbs on a clear staircase. You make it to the top of one of the larger rocks and after catching your breath, take a good look at the seemingly endless forest.