The ground beneath the Stonehooves Tribe began to tremble.
It was subtle at first, like a distant echo of thunder in the mountains, but soon the tremor grew stronger, shaking the earth and causing the stone huts and towering trees to sway violently.
A low rumble resonated through the air, RAAAAAAMMMMMMM and then, with a sudden, deafening crack, the statue at the heart of the tribe—the ancient totem that had represented the Stonehooves for generations—began to crumble.
The Stonehooves Tribe members watched in shock and horror as the statue of the Centaur, their old tribal spirit, disintegrated piece by piece.
The once-proud stone form that they had believed that would guard them for so long was now nothing more than rubble.
Dust swirled around the clearing as the last fragments of the statue crashed to the ground, leaving behind a gaping emptiness.
But then, something extraordinary happened.
