Suddenly Micheal was struck with the ridiculous nature of that question.
"You've been turned into a Fox-Girl??" he said, then winced - his new voice still wasn't familiar, and it kept making him dizzy to hear it replacing his old tenor. After a few moments, he went on - a Fox Girl? Those weren't even supposed to exist! For all he knew, they didn't.
'Until now,' he thought somewhat gloomily, gazing down at his furred feminine frame.
But that brought up a good question: Was he the only fox-girl, or fox-person, rather? Did the amulet have the power to transform people into existing species, or to create new species based on people's imaginations and familiarities? Or was it merely deluding him?
Mmm, that was a good question, and Mike fell into a reverie for a moment trying to figure out a way to tell if he was being deluded by this Amulet or not. If he was, then he probably wasn't a Fox-Girl, and that was a relief - but then the amulet also wasn't working the way its note predicted, and that was troubling. If he wasn't being deluded, that left the whole How-Is-There-Even-A-Fox-Girl-Species question - not to mention, it suddenly came into his mind, how he worked biologically.
After that, the questions started spinning in his mind faster than he could actually figure out what they were. He put his head in his hands - mildly furry hands - and half-begged, half-screamed for them to go away. But of course that didn't work, so he started taking long, deep breaths and remembering things to calm him down.
'It's only going to stay in effect for a day', he thought first - then lunged at the medallion to make sure. Yes, the golden dial was only one notch to the right of straight up Noon. So, that was good.
'I can still talk', he thought next. That really was a bonus, come to think of it. The note had said specifically that he would lose his power of speech, and implied that the author hadn't had much fun with this, but apparently Mike had lucked out.
"I lucked out," he said, just to practice speaking, and was again knocked back by how different his voice was. It didn't jar him as before, however, so he decided to keep testing.
"The Rains in Spain fall Mainly on the Plain."
"In Harrison Hartford's Home, Hurricanes Hardly Happen."
"Jackdaws love my big sphinx of quartz."
"Hey, Hurly, how's it hangin'?"
This last one was said with a little humor in it - he was having fun with his new voice, partly because it didn't appear to have a lisp or any other defect, and partly because it was really quite pleasant - a sweet Alto that had a quiet melody playing behind the words. He was also, Mike realized immediately afterward, air-flirting a little; swaying his hips, and pushing his chest forward. This brought him crashing back to down reality, and the humor disappeared. At least now he wasn't panicked.
Hey, that was something. Panic gone. Nice. He wanted to do a little dance, but was afraid of exciting himself sexually again.
And that brought him back to the main question: What to do now?