It was too risky to return to the stable in this advanced state of transformation, Mark doubted that he could resist the temptation of the mares inside for long. Only a thought about female horses was enough to harden his member, without even mentioning the danger of another lust filled figment.
‘The other attendants left for what I believe is north, maybe Sophie had the right idea when she fled west. It was heavily implied that she was human once, maybe she knew the layout of the forest from before? It’s my best lead’
With a new purpose in mind Mark started to follow the trail left by his previous mount, using mainly smell and hoof tracks on the dirt. All was not easy though, the new body was much more clumsy and slow compared to his old one, mainly because he was not accustomed to this one, with an array of new parts he didn’t know how to control. His morals were still strong, and the fact that he was stark naked in the outside was a source of deep embarrassment, not helped by the way his oversized cock was exposed for all to see. His various attempts to hide his shame behind hands failed miserably, and the pieces of cloth shredded during the fantasy were too small to improvise tentative shorts.
The worst obstacle to his freedom was his posture and gait, the hooves he now sported were too small and compact to walk upright with confidence, and with the changes his balance and stability was insecure at best. In fact he gave up covering his junk when he lost his footing several times, avoiding a painful fall on the ground only because he grasped the trunks of nearby tree in time. The solution was of course to fall on all four to have better stability and walk more quickly to flee, but after the rush of changes the last time he slipped Mark was not very sure that behaving like a horse would be a wise choice, or one without consequences.
Besides, the attempt to stay upright distracted Mark to the signs that would have unsettled him, like the way he was no more upset at his lack of clothes and instead started to feel comfortable under the new pelt, or his hairy hands, now with black nails and more stiff by the second, signaling his ongoing march to become a horse.
A soft breeze ruffled his mane and fur and he huffed, annoyed and frustrated by his meager progress, when a smell caught his nostrils, prompting him to turn sideway toward a clearing to find…