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Another of the discovered but incomplete pieces ...

Shari loved horses and everything to do with horses. When she had been little, she'd wish hard to even be a pony just like the ones on her favourite TV show. The wish had never come true but her passion remained ... her home was filled with statuettes of horses, pegasi, hippocampi ... even her wall art was ponies, horses and their mythological cousins.

Her ex-boyfriend was a biogeneticist and an amateur archaeologist as well. He, too, had loved horses but not nearly as much as she had. The fight, now ten days in the past, had ended with Shari stomping from his apartment vowing never to talk to that over bearing creep again.

The fight had started simply enough. She'd invited him over for dinner (and maybe a romp in the hay later). The dinner went well and after a few hours of conversation, cuddling and the like, she'd hinted she wanted him to stay over. The excuse used had been that he'd had one two many drinks to drive safely. He made a half-hearted attempt to insist he really shouldn't stay over but agreed in the end. That was when things had started to get strange. He went down to his car "to get a few things" and returned with a box full of leather and metal.

Shari went along with the "horse play" for a while but when he produced a saddle and proposed he ride her around the room, she balked. He was twice her size and there was no way she'd be able to support his weight bent over at the waist. Unfortunately he was just drunk enough to use this weight to have his way. The rest of the evening was a complete disaster. Shari's hips and legs hurt and the hoped-for "roll in the hay" didn't happen. In the end, they'd fought and he'd grabbed his keys, drunk as he was, and driven himself home.

Kenny hadn't phoned since and Shari thought she'd lost him for sure. The end of a love affair always produced a deep melancholy for Shari. Her friends at work noticed and commiserated but the dark mood hadn't lifted. Every time she thought she'd give him a call, the pile of "Ponygirl" equipment still in the middle of her living room would make her see red. If he wanted to apologize, then all would be well but there was no way she'd go crawling to him to submit to whatever other insanity he had in mind. Her ruminations were interrupted by her doorbell. A young woman in a uniform introduced herself as a courier, showed her id and offered Shari a notepad to sign. She handed her a wrapped bottle of wine or something like that, turned and left. It was from Kenny! He'd sent her a gift to apologize for his faux pax.

The letter, written in the same rambling style as Kenny spoke, wasn't an apology. He was still on this damned Ponygirl kick. His letter stated that whenever she was ready to pick up where they'd left off, he'd be more than willing. There was the implied threat that he wouldn't wait forever in the letter, too. The wine was a reasonably good vintage (not the cheap stuff Kenny preferred) and Shari set it on her shelf.

There it sat for several days while Shari waited for Kenny to give in. In the end, during one of her darkest moods, Shari went out into the back yard and opened the bottle. The cork slid out easily, leaving none of the little cork bits she so detested. Pouring herself a glass, she re-corked the bottle. She sat down in her favourite bench and sipped the wine. It was excellent but had gone off in some way as the fruity aroma she'd expected had a slight tinge of something slightly bitter. As she placed the glass on one of the backyard tables, she noticed that the label on the bottle was crooked and, as she discovered, loose.

On the back of the label was another short note from Kenny. This time the note was ominous. He told of a strange shop and an even stranger woman. He'd bought the wine and the spell in anger. 

"She'd be his horse yet," the spell had concluded.

Shari felt a strange churning in her stomach that quickly spread to her whole body. A burning, like fire, gripped her breasts and abdomen. This soon passed and Shari went outside in the sun to lie on the grass and catch some rays. Thankful for the high fence erected by the previous owner, Shari stripped completely for half an hour of sunning in the nude. She found herself strangely groggy and was unable to resist as sleep overcame her in the patch of warm sunshine.

Kenny had always enjoyed horses or Shari wouldn't have dated him. His passion, though, was the mythological kinds: the flying horse Pegasus and horned unicorn. He'd assumed, like almost all people in the United States and Canada do, that everyone speaks their language exactly the same way they do. So when he'd drunkenly asked for the spell, he'd asked for one of those "horse fly thingies" and "winged horse thingies" and "goaty one horned thingies". When the sorceress had learned to speak thousands of years previously, English hadn't even been her second language.  Heavens above, English wouldn't even be invented for 100 centuries.  Over that immense time, she'd learned many a language - twenty or thirty at the least, but she'd forgotten so many languages that even she wouldn't have been able to say with any certainty how many.

Sheri stretched languidly on her backyard grass. She'd awakened from the unexpected mid-afternoon nap to discover a few changes had occurred. Her chest as flat as a schoolgirl's, her hands and feet were shiny almost metallic cloven hooves instead of hands and feet.  A spiral horn grew from her forehead. Furry fetlocks grew on her forearms and shins.  She felt something strange and discovered she now had animal ears that she could move.  She felt something tickle the back of her hip and found she had a horse's tail, too, that wasn't some costume.  She could move the damned thing.  She screamed, having no other option. Blast him and his strange tastes! Turning over, another unwelcome change: she felt something odd on her abdomen.  She had a tiny horse's udder between her legs.  And then the final discovery, she had wings too! Not quite the flying horse Pegasus kind though ... frowning at the discovery of huge insect wings, she wondered whether they'd actually let her fly.

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