James was mistaken about Tyler's interest. She wasn't staring at his cock because he was a horse, she was
staring because he was a big strong man! In her new state she felt vulnerable and fragile, like she could
blow away in a strong wind. She was especially afraid that her flock would run into a big, bad wolf and she
would be gobbled up.
Tyler tore her eyes away from the spot between James' legs with flushed cheeks. She clutched her crook with
both hands and tried to ignore the pleasant ache that had appeared between her thighs. "Oh gosh," she
squeaked. "You're awfully strong-looking. A real outdoors sort of man. Maybe you could help me find my sheep?
I think they ran into the woods." Shyly Tyler batted her eyes. "I bet you know them like the back of your
hand."
James laughed, then coughed. "Sure do," he replied in a deep, gravelly voice. Dark stubble sprung across his
cheeks and chin, the bones becoming thicker. His face squared and became more chiseled, the horse muzzle
receding back to normal. His main shortened and became bushy and coarser. The brown fur that had moments ago
grown across James' skin now vanished. In its place was weathered skin, tan in some places and sunburn in
others. His muscles rippled and rearranged themselves as his frame became stockier. His arms were large and
thick, his hands calloused and dry. Black hair grew on his arms and legs, painting him as a real manly man. He
had a bit of a gut but was still in good shape.
His nakedness was the last to go. Appearing from thin air came a red and black flannel shirt, the sleeves
rolled up to expose his large forearms. Jean overalls twined over his broadening shoulders and thick legs.
Sturdy black boots covered his feet and a black woolen cap popped over his dark hair. Finally, resting beside
him, was a large chainsaw. "Lost your sheep, eh?" he asked. "I'd be happy to help a pretty thing like you find
them." His transformation complete, James had become a burly Canadian lumberjack.