Mortimer crawled into a fetus like postion were he held his tommy. He then tried to get up but with no luck, he fell on his four and confronted the witch who stood nearby watching him.
"Old hag. WHat have you done. Speak woman, what have you ...BAAHAAAHAA!" Oh no! That had been absolutely agaist his will, he never intended on blair like a ...BAHAHAAH, BAHAAHAHA... a goat.
Mortimer took a hand to his throat and massaged it, fearing he had lost his voice to one of a goat's forever but the scenario was much worse that. Tickling his hand there was a freshly grown ginger billy-goat beard - a true goatee that he cured in his fingers.
"What is BAHAHAAH, BAAHAHAH, BAAHAHA" he couldn't fight it, not special after his tongue had become denser and longer. An acute pain to his spin made him fall again on all fours. There on the floor he watched as his manly arms lost its muscles and became hairier and with a different bone structure. His clothes were all too tied, he had to take them off, to feel free and have his new coat of fur that was begining to grow on his ass and lombar zone up to his chest. His mouth felt so strange...Mortimer took his fingers and shook them, he shooked his front teeth and they ended up falling on the floor like if they were babyteeth and new ready to cut grass teeth popped. His fingers became all one bone in a second, his nails enlongated and covered the top giving him a hooves to stand on. The tail grew. His neck started to elongated and the prespective altered immensely; he noticed that the witch was quiet looking at him, apreciating her work. His horse on the other side was fairly agitated with the comotion.
"BAAHAHAAH" he demanded to be changed back. "Bahahaaha" he aske dher to have mercy on him. But no effect nothing human came out of his goat throat.
His jaw changed with much pain and blairs from him, his eyes and skull complexion weren't human for much long either and soon Mortimer was now a scared semi-conscious goat in the woods.