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.

The truck arrived early and an extravagant centaur was walked out. His steps precise and timed, his fur a pearly white. He was walked into the stables and the man that led him left without much other than a wave.