The centaur knew nothing of the situation he found himself in. He only
knew it was imperative he get himself to the east. There, ten miles into
the ocean was the small island-nation of Mesopotamia. That is where all
centaurs lived. Mankind was rejected out of hand, although trading was
done through Elvish employees. The centaur kicked Belboz aside and ran out of the caves. A few boring hours of running passed because this is a story, not a running diary. Anyway, Freud, (the centaur was sure that was his name but something felt wrong) stopped on a high ridge overlooking a large village. Wind rustled his hair and made the oaks behind him clatter and drop leaves. He scanned the 6town. If non-humans walked among them it would be safe for him to go down and get supplies. (A centaur could make easy money as it was considered a great blessing for a child to ride on a centaur's back for ten yards. Humiliating but money is money). Freud scanned the town.
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2/22/2003 4:38:23 AM
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