Mum had me up and about early morning, no excuses. She had been practically bouncing in place and when I didn't get up as quick as she would like, she'd lifted me up out of the blankets and into the air. My squawk of surprise only made her laugh. She only calmed down once Dad rolled over and said that if she didn't calm down and let him rest, he'd lay on her and then she wouldn't be going into the forest at all today.

She had us ready and out of the house so quickly I was still half-asleep by the time we hit the edge of the clearing, clutching my bow and wondering what the hell had just happened.

This was the first time I had seen Mum all kitted out, and I was surprised. She carried her crossbow like it was part of her, completely at ease wielding it which spoke of how long she had been using it. Her shirt looked padded and thicker than what she usually wore, her small leather quiver full of crossbow bolts strapped to her waist, and saddlebags with whatever stuff she felt the need to bring strapped around her lower torso.

She looked every bit the huntress I had heard about in her stories, and seeing it for myself was surprising.

The walk to wherever we were going consisted of alternating times of content silence, conversation, mostly of Mum asking me questions about anything and everything as well as the occasional story that came to mind, and singing. Well, mostly Mum singing while she taught me different songs she knew, in both Centaur and Plainspeech. I was pleased to find out from Mum that I had a good singing voice.

I was hoping it stayed that way. I had enjoyed singing a lot when I was human, but I had sadly lacked the ability to do so, without people threatening me with grievous bodily harm.

"How have you been getting along with your friends?"

"Fine."

"That is good. You should invite Sena, Mira or Bianca home one time."

That was… a little out of left field and oddly specific. Why only them?

"And Aelle or Stephan as well, right?"

"Hmm? Well, yes. If you want to."

Huh. Ok...

We're silent for a moment.

"What about Matthew?"

I look up at Mum, to find her watching me with an unreadable expression. "Huh?"

"You did not mention young Matthew. Is there any reason why?"

"U-uh no? I just, um, did not think he would like it? He, uh, does not like the idea of leaving the village."

Wow, real convincing there, buddy. Sure fooled her.

Her expression tells me she isn't convinced. I'm pretty sure she knows exactly the reason why.

I really need to figure out a way to fix that situation if I can. Should really ask Dad about it.

"And you should have seen your poor father's face. He looked so horrified at what he had done, but it was one of the most wonderful things anyone had ever done for me." She sighs wistfully, her eyes looking back on some memory passed. "That was when I was certain he was the one I wanted to be with for the rest of my life."

I smile at the story. It was a bit… unconventional, to fall head over heels in love with someone because they put an axe through a creature trying to hurt you but it fit what I knew of Mum. My chest hurt a little bit, and my smile turns melancholic.

It would be nice to have something like that with someone…

My eyes are closed, trusting Mum as she leads me by the hand to not walk me into anything. I still step carefully, as to not trip on anything that might be in front of me.

We had crossed the river and went far deeper into the forest than I had ever been before, walking for hours before we finally reached where Mum had been taking us. She'd asked me to close my eyes as we drew close, and I'd spent the last five minutes or so having done just that.

"Ok, open them now, little one."

I do as she says and any thoughts I had grind to a halt at what is in front of me. Eyes wide with disbelief and awe, my head tracks upward to take in the full sight before me.

A giant….tree? Trees? I wasn't sure if those were stupidly big roots wide enough for me to walk along or individual trees that fused together at some point as they twisted and turned throughout the clearing. Either way, a giant tree towered above me like a skyscraper, its trunk looking thick enough to fit a house inside of. And from its countless branches sprouted flowers of countless colours; Greens and blues, purples and reds. Beautiful, vibrant splashes made all the more amazing by their green and brown surroundings and sparse light filtering through the thick canopy, making them glow.

Flitting between the flowers were small, just as vibrantly coloured creatures that I couldn't make out properly from this distance. Their colours were changing constantly in a living dance of light, like those mood lights you could get back on Earth.

All together they made up one of the most breath-taking things I had ever seen.

This… this was fantastical. So far beyond anything that I could have even thought existed in anything but a fantasy tale. I'm completely blown away.

I almost laugh when I realise that my life pretty much is fantasy now. A young centaur standing in a fantastical forest staring up at an impossible tree.

"Well? What do you think?"

I turn to Mum, still unable to say a word.

Her gentle laughter tells me she knows exactly what I think.

We spent what was probably several hours beneath that tree, just taking it all in. An attempt to walk along one of the roots taught me that I really didn't trust my balance as a centaur as much as I did as a human, and that I did not like heights at all in this new body. If I fell, there would be no catching myself. It did get me close enough to see that the colour-changing creatures were winged lizards about the size of a cat. I wondered if I could tame one as a pet.

Eventually, Mum and I both agreed that it was time to do something else. The day was getting on, and we would have to start making our way home at some point anyway. So, we decided that we'd head a good way home first, and then hunt.

Now, tracking and stalking your prey is all well and good. It's relaxing in a way; paying close attention to your surroundings. And the slow, steady growth of anticipation as you slowly close in on your target is invigorating.

But, it was also the only way John allowed me to hunt. No using my sense of smell, no running around. Just slow and steady.

So, now that I was out here with Mum for the first time like this, I thought I would try something new. I was going to chase down my prey.

"Do not go too far, Nilas. And be careful."

"I will, Mum. I promise."

"I trust you. Now, go have fun." She sends me a slightly feral smile that I happily return. And with that, I take off into the forest, bow nocked and ready to be drawn.

Trees whip past me; two-toned blurs of green and brown. I feel the adrenaline begin to pump through me, and my hearts pick up pace; a feeling I have grown used to by now.

Over fallen logs and through clumps of scrub I thunder, head twisting left and right as I hunt for a scent.

There.

I catch a faint trace of something my instincts say is harmless off to the right, and change direction on a dime; my body twisting and hooves digging into the dirt before taking off again without barely slowing down.

I can feel myself grinning hard as I close in on the source of the scent, small animals and birds taking flight as I gallop by.

Up ahead I catch sight of something small and long-legged just before it shoots off between the trees.

Grinning, I push myself harder to try and close the gap. A decent gap between the trees gives me my first good view of my prey. A small deer-looking creature with brown fur speckled with red, that seems to have not only fangs, but also four dark eyes and a long thin tail that ends in a tuft of red fur. Another one of this world's odd creatures. It catches sight of me gaining on it and darts to the side.

Shit! It's fast as hell.

I follow after it. My slightly larger build not taking the turn as quickly but my longer, more powerful legs giving me an edge on the straights.

I draw back the bowstring to my face and frown. The movement was making it hard to get a good, solid shot. Maybe I should have practiced moving shots more before I did this.

I loose the arrow with a twang of the string, and watch as it whizzes over the deer creature's head; not even coming close to hitting it and making it juke to the side again.

Fuck. Yeah, really should have practiced. Oh well, I've come this far so no way in hell am I giving up now.

Gotta make it fast, though. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

The trees have started to close in a bit, making it harder to move. But, it's doing the same to my prey, and I'm the one with the ranged weapon.

I slow down slightly, just enough to steady myself a little more, and nock another arrow.

Draw. Breathing steady. Loose.

This one strikes the dirt between the deer's hind legs and I swear. This is bullshit!

I take aim once more, ask whatever Gods are listening for help and let it fly.

My arrow flies true and strikes the deer on the haunch, exactly where I wanted.

Ok, it actually moved into the way of it, but it still counts!

With a cry of pain, the deer falls as its legs come out from underneath it, and I'm on it before it can react, putting one last arrow through its head.

I allow myself a quiet woo of victory as I try to get my breath back. The thick scent of blood begins to wind slowly through the air and into my nose, as well as that enigmatic scent I've come to realise indicates death. It always appeared after an animal died, and I had smelled it in other areas throughout the forest. It didn't travel far, but once you got close enough it was hard to miss. It was far from the most pleasant smell. Maybe it was why more centaurs didn't hunt and the like?

Wasn't important. I had more important things to deal with right now. Like cleaning this before I take it back to Mum.

After removing the arrows, wiping them off and putting them back in my quiver, I drag the small deer to a nearby low-hanging branch and set about stringing it up by its head.

And now begins the wonderful process of gutting it. I didn't like doing it for deer, but I was determined to learn; especially since John would make me do it anyway.

I take a step back a short time later, breathing through my mouth to try and combat the scent of blood a bit. It just seemed to stick in my nose, and a small part in the back of my mind recoiled from it every time.

Sighing, I close my eyes and stretch my neck and back; moaning in delight at the pops and wonderful pull of my muscles. God, I loved doing that.

Still looking up, I open my eyes and freeze.

A pair of yellow slitted eyes stares back from further up the tall trunk.

How did-

My eyes widen with fear and an aborted scream forces its way out of my throat as a squeak instead as I stagger backwards. A random memory of my past life makes its way into my head as I stare up at the brown-furred predator. Big cats hunt by going for their prey's throat.

Blood slick in my throat. Choking me.

Unable to breath. Lungs working uselessly.

The feeling of cold as my blood and life drain from me.

Feelings, memories, pound around inside my head, blocking out all else till I can't breath. Can't think.

Have to get away.

Can't die.

I don't want to die!

I scream.

The big cat tenses, almost in slow motion as everything seems like it's moving through water, and leaps.

Straight down at me.

I move backwards desperately to try and escape, and in my panic forget I have four legs now. With tangled limbs, I go over backwards and hit my head against the ground; sending a bolt of jagged pain through my skull.

Stunned, I barely have time to react before the cat is on me. I lash out with my hind legs in a desperate kick, and manage to clip its side and throw it off target; hitting the ground beside me instead and rolling.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

I stagger to my feet, eyes searching the ground around me. Where is the knife? Where did I drop it?!

My body screams at me to forget it and run. The cat is right behind me and will be up any moment. Before I even realise it, I'm sprinting away; my body running on autopilot as my dazed and panicked mind runs in circles.

Sharp pain tears into my rear as a heavy weight collides with me from behind, and screaming I'm dragged to the forest floor. I'm twisting, kicking, trying to fight off the cat as I feel its claws digging into me. Through the skin and deep into the flesh, the hot wetness of blood bubbling to the surface and making me scream louder as memories and sensations resurface.

Bleeding out. Growing cold. Move my arms, hold it in, can't hold it in.

So hot. So cold.

The forest grows blurry through the film of tears brought on by the combination of pain and terror.

A small, detached part of my mind takes note of the fact that I haven't stopped screaming, and it had reached a shrill pitch that sounded a lot like a dying animal. Which I pretty much was.

I tuck my head against my chest and hunch over in an attempt to keep my neck away from the cat's teeth, flailing and trying to throw the cat off me.

It claws its way up my body, biting at my flailing limbs as it tries to get at my most vulnerable parts.

Things seem to blur together as time stretches out and compresses all at once. A cacophony of pain and fear and desperation. Hot adrenaline and hotter blood as it spills from the increasing number of injuries across my body.

Through the stink of blood, sweat and the terror-inducing scent of predator a distant tinge of something reaches me. It manages to cut through the fear and terror, and I call out instinctively.

"Mummy!"

With my head tucked in and away from the attacks, I was unable to see my Mum's approach.

I did, however, hear and feel it. A thundering of hooves that I could hear and feel approaching far more rapidly than I could have imagined, and a wordless roar full of rage.

The weight of the cat on top of me is suddenly torn off with enough force that I'm almost dragged along with it.

I turn my head towards the commotion. The small part of my mind not wracked by pain or fear watching in awe as my murderous-faced mother stomps the cat into the dirt, even as it tries to retreat. She brings her front hooves down on it again and again until it stops moving entirely. I can see blood staining them when she finally backs off, breathing heavily.

Desperately drawing in air and my mother's comforting scent, I let out a whimper. Her head whips towards me and the anger on her face is instantly replaced by burning fear and despair. She is crouching by my side almost before I realise it.

"Nilas. Nilas dear, look at me. It is going to be fine, yes? Do not worry, everything w-will be fine." Her voice breaks, and unshed tears glimmer at the corners of her eyes as she fights to try and keep herself calm. "We just have to-to get you home. Get you home and it will be all ok. All ok. You will be fine. Hold still, little one. I need to c-clean you up."

I watch absently, my throat too raw to speak, as she works quickly at cleaning and dressing my wounds as well as she can in the circumstances. Every whimper or cry from me draws a choked noise from her, the occasional tear fighting its way free and down her face.

Slowly, my mind begins to calm and straighten out. My panic and fear draining away in Mum's presence, replaced by more pain and guilt. My panic, my stupidity lead to me getting hurt. Led to worry Mum, making her have to see this. I was an idiot. I was going to get myself killed.

It would be easier if I just stayed at home, where it was safe.

These thoughts are running circles through my head as Mum gathers everything, and places me over her back with some trouble. With my head resting against her shoulder from behind, and even with the jolts of pain, the mental and physical exhaustion catches up to me and I slip in unconsciousness.