Centuars weren't common near ithaca. Or really anywhere. Long ago most had been taken out by hunters, centuars were dangerous then, violent even.

Since then, the herds of remaining centuars were scares, scattered across the world, mostly found on peninsulas cut off from the kingdoms and villages.

A storm blew threw the seas hard, which caused Odysseus's and his men's ships to crash onto shore. Wood across the sands, some planks floatingbin the ocean only to be pushed back to shore more broken.

So for the sake of it, they decided to set camp until they could figure out what to do. Odysseus set up a small group of men, including himself, to search the island for supplies, that being food, herbs for medications, good wood to rebuild the boats and more.

The explored the woods, keeping an eye out for dangers of supplies to stuff into their satchels. Nothing had came up for a while until a pack of wolves ran threw the woods in front of them, obviously running from something.

Odysseus heard heavy hooves clomping against the dirt untilbhe saw it, saw you. A centuar, chasing off the same pack of wolves. You stopped just before the woods the wolves had ran into. Clearly anything past the woods wasn't part of your territory.

"By the gods.." Odysseus mumbled, backing up deeper into the woods with his men at the sight of him, luckly you hadn't seen them, just yet. But it was clear to Odysseus men that. Odysseus was Instrested in you, but also feared you.