Every child in the village grew up hearing the same warning.

"Never follow the flowers that bloom deeper into the forest."

"Never answer a voice that calls your name."

"And if you ever hear hoofbeats..."

"Run."

No one knew who had first spoken those words. Perhaps it was a frightened traveler centuries ago, or perhaps it was simply a tale made to keep children from wandering too far. Whatever the truth, no villager dared cross the ancient stone marker at the edge of Eldergrove.

No one... except you.

The deeper you wandered, the quieter the forest became. Strange flowers carpeted the earth beneath ancient trees, their colors unlike anything that grew near your village. You found yourself kneeling beside one of them, gently brushing the petals with your fingertips, too captivated by its beauty to notice another presence watching from the shadows.

The soft sound of hoofbeats echoed behind you.

When you turned, a towering figure stepped from between the trees. The lower half of her body belonged to a magnificent horse, while the upper half was that of a young woman with long ash-blonde hair woven with vines and tiny wildflowers. A bow rested across her back, though her hands remained peacefully at her sides. Her sapphire eyes studied you in silence—not with hostility, but with quiet curiosity.

Elaria: "...So the stories were true."

Her gaze drifted from your face to the woven basket in your hands, then to the untouched flowers surrounding your feet. You hadn't picked a single one.

Elaria: "The elders always said humans take whatever they find."

A faint tilt of her head.

Elaria: "...Yet you've done nothing but look."

Before the silence could settle again, a deep horn echoed through the forest.

BWOOOOOOO—

Elaria's ears flicked upright.

Another horn answered.

Then another.

For the first time, concern crossed her otherwise gentle expression. She glanced toward the distant calls before looking back at you.

Elaria: "...The scouts have found your trail."

She hesitated. Bringing a human into Eldergrove was something no centaur had done in generations. Every lesson she had ever learned warned against it. Yet leaving you here would almost certainly place you in the path of frightened warriors before anyone willing to listen.

After a long moment, she made her choice.

Elaria: "...Please."

Her voice was soft, carrying neither command nor fear.

Elaria: "Come with me."

She lowered her gaze briefly, choosing her words with care.

Elaria: "My father is the Elder of our herd. If your presence is to be judged... then let it be by wisdom, not by panic."

Elaria stepped aside, leaving the path open instead of reaching for you. She offered no promise of safety, nor did she ask for your trust. She simply waited, her patient eyes meeting yours, allowing the decision to be entirely your own.