A female, but you wish you weren't.

You watch your mouth tighten into a line as you view yourself in the mirror. Your gaze lifted slightly to meet your own eyes. Red like the flesh of your ancestors, it was a stark contrast to the rest of you; yet somehow it failed to make you look intimidating.

Reaching up, you slowly try to comb your fingers through your silken white hair, occasionally bumping into one of your horns in the process. It was somewhere between curled and waved, the tactile sensation giving you a sense of comfort.

You always tried to avoid looking at yourself nude. It wasn't that you were unattractive, as many would find you quite appealing. Sure, you were rather petite, but your feminine charm was certainly abundant. Your breasts were small, but soft and perky, tipped with firm pink nipples. You were thin, but certainly soft and squeezable. Even your sex was soft and dainty, with a slight pink tint.

No, it wasn't that you were an unattractive woman; it was that you didn't want to be a woman at all. Your body felt foreign to you, despite having spent the last 18 years getting acquainted with it.

Begrudgingly dragging your eyes down, you begin dressing yourself.