I stare after her in shock and alarm as she saunters down the stone pathway, muttering nonentities to herself. Reaching for her retreating figure in defeat, I struggle to comprehend the events that just took place before arriving at an unsettling revelation.

Amy Rose didn't recognize me.

Amy Rose didn't recognize me.

Chip attempts to command my attention, blathering about something or other that may or may not apply to the situation. I wouldn't know. I'm not really listening.

I turn slowly and wander aimlessly through town, eyes downcast as Chip continues his prattle.

The light from a streetlamp reflects briefly off a storm drain, illuminating a large puddle and catching my eye. I had never taken the time to overlook my transformation. I immediately wish that I hadn't even thought of taking a glance. I gape at the gruesome image distorted slightly by the rippling water.

My reflection is repulsive.

My face is repulsive.

Skin that would have normally been a healthy peach color had paled to a sickly gray. My elongated, sharp canines protrude from my mouth, curving menacingly over my bottom lip. Unkempt, coarse hair of a dirty-looking shade grows matted over my unnaturally brawny frame. My eye color had dulled and my brow was heavier, forcing my features into a perpetual glare.

I am a monstrosity.

My intestines twist in distress and nausea. Appalled, I race down the unforgiving cobblestone road, bounding on all fours like the animal I am.

No wonder she didn't recognize me.

I'm disgusting.