After serious thought, during a long luxurious graze, you decide trying to leave is a very bad idea... for now. If she can change your body, she can change your mind for the worse as well. Wipe out all your human memory? Drop your reasoning power to match the body? or something as minor as instilling slavish puppy dog devotion... The hide of your body jumps and shivers like shaking flies at that thought.
Then there's the things she can do to your body if she's really pissed...
Decision made to play "wait and see", you concentrate on the differing flavors of each kind of grass... "Oooh Clover! Now I see why clover honey is so popular..."
Later in the day, you smell something... interesting, something that makes your heart race and your blood roar in your ears. Your sheath twitches as your lip curls instinctively. The breeze seems to be blowing the scent from somewhere near, within a mile?
With your attention entirely on the smell, you fail to hear her return until she gives a polite cough "My, my... I see I'm just in time in deciding to ride you. Maybe we can work some of that pent up energy off of you studly. You cant touch her ...for now. If you are a good boy, we'll see what arrangements I can make. I'm sure my colleague would love a foal from her. First things first, come over here and stand still."
Obediently, you do as you are told and silently suffer with the humiliation of the unfamiliar ritual of tacking up. She personally puts the saddle pad, saddle and slips the bit back into your mouth she had removed for grazing. She checks her work, then there is a sudden weight on your left side as she swings up "Steady boy, that's it, nothing to be afraid of. You won't fall over that easy."
After settling the reins, she smiles wickedly as she pulls out a riding crop. "Now, we will have some cooperation, won't we, my pet? Good." She taps your ribs with her heels "Onward, through the gate and right!" You start trotting, still learning to deal with the straneg weight on your back, and turning right as she pulls the bit into the corner of your mouth. Distorted "panavision" or not, the lane you trot down is nothing like what you saw coming into the park. After a couple of minutes in fact, you should have seen the city by now. Wierdly, you pass European style manors with thatched roof cottages between the properties. A road sign is written in a strange script and lit with a glowing ball of light hovering over it.
She giggles wickedly at your obvious confusion.
you are definitely not in Kansas, Toto...