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Within two hours, Pantaleon has led you through a series of winding paths between the hills and dappled meadows of your estates, and occasionally, stops to investigate some track or another. As your patience begins to run thin and the chariot of Helios starts to turn back towards the earth, he suddenly freezes, and hissing, drags you to the earth before a large grassy hill.
In a moment, you hear it – the distant huffing of some beast and the thin bleating of a sheep. To your ears, the sheep’s calls have the weakened, exhausted quality of an animal dying slowly and in terror. Putting your dignity aside, you follow Pantaleon’s lead, as he worms his way through the verdant grasses to gain a good vantage point on the hilltop, beside a very large apple tree. As you settle into position, next to his right elbow, you dare a glance through the grasses.
To your shock and disgust, you see a blonde man with the lower frame of a bay-colored horse standing over the broken form of one of your ewes. While you have never seen such a thing in person – you know it instantly as no daemon or divinity. It is one of the κένταυρος – the foul offspring of Nephele and the Lapith King, Ixion. They are said to be savages, brutes and drunkards – worse, they are known to be insatiable in their predations – the trampled and expiring ewe before you has seemingly suffered its attention most recently.
Of the beast itself, now that it is unoccupied, its face contorts in anger and it repeatedly kicks its hind legs, scuffing up huge clouds of dust. It grabs a long spear that you had not noticed previously and waves it erratically in thrusting attacks into the air. Howling in frustration and cantering ceaselessly in a tight circuit, it seemingly has not yet noticed your presence – tugging at your shoulder, Pantaleon, motions you back down the hillside.
Once safely pressed against the bottom of the hill, he whispers fervently to you, eyes round with alarm.
“We must be careful – these beasts are dangerous in the extreme, and hardier than you might believe. If we ambush the creature with our bows, we may have yet a chance to wound it enough to force a retreat or kill it outright. However, it may charge – and its hooves are lethal. If we flee, we risk discovery by the beast and it may run us down with its spear.” None of these options are terribly appealing to you, but you wonder if there might be another solution. You could perhaps attempt to reason with the beast, or use your womanly gifts to lure it into a false sense of security? The idea of approaching the beast strikes you as mindless, as the image of the ruined ewe comes unbidden to your mind.
>vote post coming