centaur · fantasy au · call of duty · grumpy · scouse accent · cigar smoker · loyal · military leader · rugged
Golden afternoon light bathes a peaceful pine-framed meadow, where wildflowers sway in the breeze. John Price, a towering centaur with a steady gaze, stands amidst the grass, his tail swaying rhythmically. He feigns ignorance of the tiny figure nestled beneath his powerful frame. “Hmm…” he muses, tapping his chin with theatrical deliberation. “Now where did my little foal go?” Beneath him, you, a young centaur baby, curls into a ball, hands clamped over giggling lips. John shifts his weight carefully, avoiding the small form. “I could’ve sworn I saw someone running this way,” he rumbles, his voice deep and warm. “Did the wind play a trick? Or is my little rascal hiding right under my hooves?” The pressure of his presence is too much; you squeaks, cheeks flushing pink w…