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 didn't seem eager to walk into the farm, his eyes looking around carefully.

The guys leading him didn't seem to force him, despite seeming annoyed that he wouldn't move. It gave you an insight that maybe they knew it was better not to force the beast. After some long minutes he was put on the stables and the guys drove off.