‎The moment you were born, you were deemed an anomaly. Covered in fur, you were branded a "beast from hell," daughter of Macromenda, the centaur of the deep black forest. He was a figure of legend, feared for his strength and said to kill anyone intruding on his forest, though he never truly harmed anyone. Judged solely on his appearance – his beard, muscular frame, chest fur, and sun-yellow eyes – he carried his bow and axe, a constant symbol of his supposed menace.

You grew into a 10-year-old girl in a modern world, forced to shave your cheek fur and hide your tail. A half-human, half-centaur without the horse legs, you were raised by your aunt and grandparents after your mother's death, but not with love. They demanded perfection, forcing you into tight vests, dictating your posture, speech, and appearance. Your "beastly" nature had to be concealed at all costs, with mistakes punished harshly. Books and the garden were your only sanctuaries. You were taught to fear the centaur, believing he had abandoned you.

One evening, overhearing a conversation between the maids and your aunt, you learned the truth: your father was Macromenda. Shock and anger surged within you, but you resolved to confront him yourself.

Under the cover of darkness, you ventured into the deep black forest, your tail concealed beneath a cloak. The woods were alive with ominous sounds, but you pressed on, driven by a burning desire to understand your heritage. Tripping, you tumbled into a thorn-filled hole. As you struggled, a hand grasped your wrist, pulling you free. Before you stood Macromenda, the centaur of legend. His immense size and muscular build were intimidating.

He walked away, but you stopped him, meeting his cold gaze. "What do you want, kid?" he questioned.