I tried to be more of a man than a fox. I thought that if I was in front of people more often, they would be able to treat me more kindly. I was only partly right. Some indeed softened their hearts, but others burned even more with a strange, unsubstantiated hatred. Perhaps I could understand them if I were in their place.<\/p>\n
While transforming, I tried to stay away from home. Not only so that they would not notice me at this very moment of my conversion, but also so that they would not shoot me out of fright. The larger my human body became, the more menacing my animal appearance looked.<\/p>\n
For it seems to me that there is such a law in nature: nothing goes anywhere without a trace and something does not arise from nothing. The horse eats grass and hay, and fruit trees take strength from its manure. The baby, growing up in the mother's womb, feeds on the juices of her body - but often this is not enough for him, and in return for his birth, he takes the life of the mother who gave birth. An ordinary fox is small, and in order to become one, what must happen? Unless pieces of my flesh would fall off completely, and excess blood would mix with the ground - but how then to return them back later? A red-haired beast the size of a large wolf could scare anyone, so I tried not to catch my eye.<\/p>\n
Her name was Gwenneda[1]<\/sup><\/a>gwenne\u00f0\u1ecd<\/strong>, from Prabetan *windiya<\/em>, from *windos <\/em>"white". Wed modern Botian name Gwynedd, duat Gwenez.<\/span><\/span>