Derrick plodded over to the wagon and regarded the harness a moment before stepping into it. He leaned forward and let his arms dangle to indicate he wanted four legs. That was enough for the satyr, who pulled out a brush and started working rapidly to adjust Derrick to the harness. As he expected, Derrick swelled out to become a full-sized draft horse, his arms dropping and formed thick forelegs, his hands and feet becoming massive hooves, and his equine head getting bigger to match his new body. When the satyr was done, Derrick snorted, feeling a bit thick-headed. He still remembered being a boy, being with the centaur, and becoming a worker. But all of that seemed distant now, unimportant. He was a horse, an animal, a beast of burden. And as he thought that his mind simplified even more, leaving Derrick as a contented draft horse whose only memories of the past were those of being a foal.
The satyr jumped up on the wagon and urged Derick forward. He responded as the well-trained beast he was and was soon rolling into town. He stood, complacent, as the wagon was loaded, and then used his mass to tug the much heavier load back. By the time they returned to the Spa, Derrick was a little tired and ready to graze. The Satyr finished supervising the unloading and then went to change the horse back to a worker. But as soon as he undid the harness, the massive animal trotted over to a pasture of other horses and started to pull up grass. The satyr shrugged and figured he could change the worker back later, if the worker wanted it. Otherwise, they had another draft horse in the stable.