Rock rubbed his eyes real hard to make sure he was actually seeing what he was seeing.
For whatever reason, he was seeing his mentor and best friend, Terry Bogard, in a whole different, much more surreal, light than usual, in more of a visual sense than spiritual or mental. Rather than looking like the well-fit, grizzled manly-man brawler he knew him as, he was... a well-fit, big-breasted, thick-thighed damethat happened to be the Wild Wolf him—erm—herself.
"Terry... what – the fuck – happened?!"
Blushing as she removed her hat, 'Terry' stammered slightly over her words an an attempt to try and explain herself. "Uh... would you believe it if I said a pervert with magic powers did it?"
"...I need to lay down." Rock grabbed his discarded jacket off the arm of the couch before flopping right onto it. His eyes were intending to linger away from his friend's rather changed body.
Terry sighed and sifted a hand through her hair, expecting a reaction like this from the rookie. "Yeah... I figured. You usually don't bother with women, right?"
Rock brought a palm to the majority of his face, mostly covering his eyes. "This isn't helping. At all."
"Yeah, I'm not really feeling all this, either," Terry agreed, wiping some sweat off her body from the fighting she had to go through some hours ago. "Especially after what I went through today. I'm worked up, I'm tired, and these clothes are not helping."
The jacket, much smaller and tighter around her chest, and the jeans that became straight-up short shorts that barely covered the underwear on the inner layer, were very much clinging to her newly-received ample body (regardless of whether she wanted it or not), and it was just a bother.
"Anyways... you mind if I just crash right here next to you?" She then asked, just sort of trying to roll along with the hopefully temporary gender-bender. "It's been a long day."
"Just—whatever... I just... I just need some time to think on this." Rock used a bit of his jacket to cover his eyes and try to find himself with only the thoughts in his head that scrambled about as a result of these recent events.
Within a few seconds, however, the son of Geese that he wish he never was felt something climb onto the couch and past his legs, and he slightly peeked under the covering fabric of one of his jacket's sleeves.
The newly-feminized Terry was dozed off on the other side of the couch, her body sprawled across the whole of the futon as usual – the Wild Wolf generally didn't have a consistent position when he slept, especially whenever he simply chose the sofa – but in this situation where he somehow became, well, a woman, he/she seemed rather cute. The small jacket that exposed some major cleavage down the split of her already generally big bosom didn't help any favors, either.
Rock was seriously hoping this wasn't going to awaken anything in him.