Erick was almost in a panic. He didn't have any idea what to do. Even as he opened the envelope, he turned and tried to get out the door, but it was no use, it wouldn't open.
A part of him, a big part, thought this was all a fake. Even if the machines builder beleived it would work, how could it? Such things weren't really possible.
But there was a nagging doubt, something about the intensity of the machine outside the walls of this little room, that made him think twice about that. It was possible, just possible, that it was all real. If it was, he had to make a choice, fast.
He tossed aside several quickly that he didn't want to deal with. Farm animals were out. If he understood the voice over, he'd be like this for a year, and a year as any kind of farm animal could mean being meat before the time was up. He thought about cats and dogs, but tossed them aside, too. It was a possibily cushy year, but it again left too much open to human caprice. How often was the family dog put down because of a minor issue? Erick had no way of knowing if anyone else would know he was once human, or if he would ever be able to communicate that.
He decided to try something wild, then. He tossed aside anything exotic that didn't live around here. If he came out a lion, for example, he'd be hunted down. If he was lucky, he'd end up in a zoo or a private collection for a year. If not, he'd be stuffed and mounted at a museam.
For that reason, he tossed out most of the predetors, at least top level ones. Wolves, foxes, bears. Even if found locally, it was too dangerous in his mind.
That left him with only a smattering of animals left. The stack of photos was by no means a complete taxonomy, after all. In the end, as he felt time ticking away, he settled on the deer.
He liked deer, first of all. They were hunted in this area, but if he kept his human mind he knew where to go where that would be low risk. If he really wanted to manage the risk, he could even go for being a doe. While being a buck had a certain standing and interest to him, especially the handsome eight pointer in the photo, it seemed more likely a buck could be poached than a doe. Even with a human mind, he couldn't anticipate all dangers.
He gazed at the two photos, acutely aware he had perhaps a few seconds to make up his mind.