You put so much effort into opening the door that when it swings open smoothly despite its weight, you loose your balance and teeter a bit. You take a few steps backward through the front door on your hind paws, front paws flailing, and as you cross the threshold you feel yourself tipping backwards. Unable to twist in time, you swing your front paws back in an attempt to break your fall. You come down a bit hard, the coarse stone of the tilework of the entryway nearly scraping your hands. HANDS!
You look down to find your legs stretched out in front of you, your sneaker laces neatly tied as though they had never left your feet. Your skirt was a little disheveled from your fall, but otherwise intact. You bring one hand up to examine in the light spilling from the house, and are relieved to find fingers instead of paws. The breeze plays a bit with your long hair as you sit there for a moment to gather yourself.
Finally coming to terms with the fact that you are back to normal, you turn and begin a mad sprint away from the house. However, your steps slow after a few paces, and you come to a stop. You turn and look back at the house, silhouetted in the moonlight, the door still invitingly open. You always were too curious, and you know it. Anyway, you were right, and all the weirdness stopped once you left the house, didn't it? Besides, to leave right now would mean a long run back through the woods in the dark, and you could easily get lost. Then again, there was no guarantee that you would ever be able to get out of the house again. Was it worth taking the risk? Finally, with quite a bit of hesitation, you...