Centaurs had been caught and domesticated far before you were born. Your own grandfather owned a farm with a few old centaurs he would ride and use to help with farm work. You used to love hanging around the creatures. They were striking but kind in nature.

Once you inherited your grandpa's farm there was a lot of work. Returning it to it's glory days was difficult but you managed. After everything was up and running with crops and some animals, you felt something gnawing at you. To get a centaur of your own.

It was the morning they'd arrive and you were more nervous than expected. A big truck rolled into the dirt driveway, unloading a centaur. He seemed awfully calm, older than expected.

The centaur was led to your stables, his tired gaze falling in you. An equally tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips before disappearing behind the doors. The guys who led him in left, offering you a goodbye.