Philyra was dead. Foalette couldn't take it in. Her dear nymph mother, who had taken her in and cared for her, was…
Wait. I'm getting ahead of myself. I should explain to you who, exactly, Foalette was. She was a centaur. You might have guessed that by her name already. Centaurs were very rare, and female centaurs were even rarer. Foalette was brought to Philyra's beautiful nymph home at the age of one. Foalette had no idea if she had any brothers, or even sisters. Just as well. She would probably argue them out of the house, one talent she had honed to weapon point. As well as that, she was very talented with a dagger. Her mother had often commented that her tongue was as sharp as her gleaming dagger. But now, back to our story…
Foalette stood in the smouldering ruins of her house clutching her mother's battered and broken body. Tears streamed down her face. She paused for a second, thinking what her mother would think if she could see her now.
Ten minutes later, she had given her mother a decent burial. Her glib tongue took over.
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dusted, I buried my mother because she was busted."
Equipped with her wits, her dagger, and various miscellanea from the ruined house, she set out in search of…
Well…
…I don't know exactly what she was searching for. I'll get back to you on that.
