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.

One morning a truck parked in front of your farm's entrance. A centaur was led from the back towards your stables. Her steps were strong but her gaze cautious. Taking in every detail despite her uninterested expression. The man leading her left, not without giving you a glare.