You try to dodge the falling pot but it breaks above your head. Yet it's not dirt or a plant that covers your hair but some sort of slime that sticks to your skin and hair. You try to cover your mouth to not choke on it, clenching your eyes shut even if you know it's too late.
You can feel your legs bend into digitigrade, feet melting into hooves and hands into something distinctly paw-like. Something sharp grows from your head, one horn more impatient than the other, along with one of your new velvet-soft ears. Oh so soft fur begins to cover your body, a tail tugging itself free from between your legs.
Your mouth lengthens into a muzzle, and you can't help but to touch your nose in utter befuddlement, unused to the feeling. Well, you suppose you have all the time in the world to get used to it now...