Pink is the New Black

The first thing she felt was pain. There were shooting pains in her head and a throbbing pain in her backside. She then felt a pressure on her chest. It wasn’t a lot of pressure. It felt like Pumpernickel was sitting on her chest, but with maybe a small friend as well. She didn’t want to open her eyes. The smell was of burning firewood, and nature. That was the only way to describe it. It smelled like the outdoors, like a fresh fall day, with leaves on the ground.
The wind blew slightly, bringing more scents to her nose. There was the smell of some sort of animal. It was an almost cat like smell, but not completely cat. There was an almost bird like smell to it as well.
What was going on? The last thing she remembered was running out the door after Pumpernickel. The cat who abhorred being outdoors had made a mad dash for escape. Why had she run?
She felt a sandpaper tongue lick her nose. She knew that feeling. That was definitely Pumpernickel. So the weight on her chest was definitely her cat, the reason she was on the ground. Alex opened her eyes, slowly and carefully. She first a bright blinding light, and she closed her eyes in defense. She slowly opened them again. She saw tree leaves, high above her. The trees towered over her, much taller than she remembered seeing them before.
She slowly rotated her eyes down and looked at her cat. She reached up with her hand, her left hand, and was relieved to know nothing hurt when she moved. She reached over to pet her cat, and felt something off. Something was weird about her cat. Something wasn’t right. There was a leathery patch, with what felt like … was that feathers?
She pushed the cat off her chest and jumped up. She grabbed her head as the world spun around her, her other hand reaching for her stomach as it tilted on it’s access. Cold, icy dread hit her as she watched, in horror, as the cat that had been on her chest, the cat that looked so much like her precious Pumpernickel, spread it’s … were those WINGS?
“Oh … my … god,” she sputtered out. She looked around. This was not Washington. Yes, some spots looked the same, but something was still wrong. Something was so horribly wrong. “Where am I?”
“You’re in Faerun,” a voice told her. That voice! She knew that voice. She’d heard that voice so many times. She had never heard it in person, but she had heard it in her dreams. The dream world she had lived in every time she had closed her eyes. She reached over with her left hand and pinched the inside of her right wrist.
“Ouch!” she exclaimed.

Surprises:

1. I hate writing opening sequences. Badly.


2. I have a third character assert herself, who will be adding her own spin on the story, as well as having her hand in HOW the story goes, LOL


3. I still don't have a male lead, and a romance sort of requires one (when it's a hetero ;))

Today's attainable goal:

Today's "required" goal: