Jeff glanced around the unfamiliar confines of the trailer. He wasn't in his bedroom anymore, filled with his old posters and discarded soda cans. The place where he'd logged into the game. He was somewhere else entirely. This trailer was compact but felt like home. A masculine ambiance permeated the area, filled with scents of leather and engine grease. But it was the sight awaiting him in the mirror that really threw him for a loop.
The snout. The orange and red fur. Those keen fox eyes staring back at him in silent astonishment. Jeff slowly ran his new claw-like fingers through his spikey head fur, still feathery soft. As he turned to get a complete look at himself, he saw his tail. Long, bushy, and rolling around the floor with an energy that felt instinctual.
"Whoa," Jeff's voice was rich, resonant; more than that, it was tinged with a strange sense of excitement. Admittedly, he was now a fox with digitigrade feet sheathed in black metal tipped leather boots, and it felt...good.e
Every part of him was new and explored, his senses were heightened to a surprising degree. He could hear the far-off rumble of an engine, and the aroma of burning rubber and hot asphalt filled his senses. Peering at his wrist, his heightened vision focused in on the countdown timer on what looked like a futuristic digital wrist-watch; it read 59:37.
As he sat there contemplating his circumstances, a knock echoed from the door. A deep voice cut through his thoughts, "20 minutes until the race."
Jeff's eyes widened. "Race? What race?"
Initially, he responded in supreme confidence. But as the man left, panic began to set in. Racing was not something he had prepared for, and yet, it seemed as though he had no choice but to participate. He began to pace, his boots thumping rhythmically against the floor of his trailer.
It was outwardly a badass image, a motorcycle racer fox in a black leather jacket and rugged jeans. The undeniably cool visual was marred by the flicker of panic igniting in his eyes, visible even under the shadow of his leather cap. "Alright, Jeff." He chuckles nervously to himself, raking a paw through his spiked fur. "You asked for an adventure. Looks like you've got one."