The sky above was clear, a vast stretch of pale blue with the sun just beginning its descent toward the horizon. The plains stretched endlessly around the centaur tribe, the dry, brittle grass swaying under the breeze. Kael trotted alongside the hunting party, the ground thudding under the hooves of his new clanmates. Despite the openness of the land, he felt confined. The centaurs moved in tight formations, their muscular frames a wall of flesh and bone around him, with Garth leading the way at the front.
Kael's gaze flicked to the herd of deer in the distance. There were more than he initially counted. Around six or seven of them grazed, their heads jerking up periodically as if sensing the approaching danger. They were not enough to feed the entire clan for days, but it would do for the evening. The centaurs hunted in waves, ensuring their numbers didn't strain the land too much.
This hunt was his second since he'd joined them, and the expectations were clear. He wasn't simply one of them yet. His performance here would be critical. Garth and Thorn, his second-in-command, kept close eyes on him. Especially Thorn.
"Do you think you can keep up, stranger?" Thorn's voice was gruff and challenging, his tall frame towering beside Kael. His black coat shimmered under the sun as he gave a smirk that never reached his eyes.
"I'll manage," Kael replied, his voice calm. He could feel the strength in his limbs now, the centaur body slowly becoming an extension of himself, no longer foreign. His thoughts drifted to the reality of this world—an ancient, savage version of Earth. The vast plains they lived in were both beautiful and dangerous, but at least here, Kael understood the rules.
The centaurs