Winny was just starting to relax when she heard the door to the stables open. For a moment, she hoped it was just a stable hand, coming in to check on the horses after the move, but the irritated pawing she heard at her clothes told her differently. It was Ivarr, in the form of his black stallion, and even though Winny was already scared, already terrified at the thought of being magically transported over hundreds of thousands of miles, she felt even more afraid as she heard the approach of that stallion toward the stall she'd claimed as her own, temporarily.
And, when he broke into it, Winny's ears flattened and she backed up as much as she could. It was to no effect, though, he bit her, and Winny whinnied, high and loud, backing away and lowering her head in the perfect picture of submission. She didn't want to fight Ivarr, for dominance, for anything. She had just wanted peace and quiet in her true form to give herself the time to get used to the fact that they had moved away from Thailand, to give herself the time to get used to the fact that she had been moved over continents without her consent.
Winny didn't want to risk him shifting further, into the form he'd told her would scare her half to death, so she shifted, the - relatively - large horse shrinking down to a tiny human, pressed back into the corner of the stall. "Ivarr, it's me." She told him desperately, not caring that she was naked, just caring that Ivarr didn't eat her. "It's Winny."