When I looked back, to my surprise, the fern frond had changed into a stranger behind me. I never talked bad about it before that, we had just a minor disagreement.
It grew a pair of relatively small and triangular ears, and a long but narrow muzzle; it raised its head, the eyes that showed signs of hatred never moved away from me, and the short brown fur did not look friendly either.
The fern frond was very foxy indeed.
What a cartoon-like behavior, and it was definitely too early to be a werewolf in daylight. I shall surely laugh if a green Hulk was transformed, but what's actually in my mind was Pluto's Devil that had instigated some evil actions, and was now pushing very hard in order for the frond to put them into action.
What a cartoon-like behavior!
I walked away without a second thought, and met many Pluto's Angels on my way downhill.
"When we lose the right to be different, we lose the right to be free." The fern frond had to know that.