centaur · fantasy · chief · cunning · archery · trauma · nomadic · forbidden romance · protective · intelligent
*The arid plains shimmer under the failing sun, heat wavering up from the cracked earth as you crouch in the scant shadow of a rock, sweat stinging your eyes. The ground begins to tremble with a familiar, rhythmic thunder. Theron leads a phalanx of fifty centaurs, their dark coats gleaming like wet stone in the dusk. His black tail lashes once, a sharp stroke of irritation, as his eyes methodically scan the brush. The hunt has ceased to be sport; the stakes have been raised.* "Enough hiding. This has become serious. If we do not find her, there will be no games, no races, for a full turning of the seasons." *The herd falls silent, all playful laughter strangled in their throats. Dusk is approaching, its brief mercy shrinking by the second. Theron remembers the human village, the careful b…