Young Writers Society

Tara awoke to the sound of hooves on the grassy ground; a sound that she'd been hearing a lot of lately but still had not gotten used to. She stood up, straightening her coat and shaking out a tiny wrinkle from her sleeve. She looked around and couldn't help but stare at the amazing beasts on the hilltops.

Centaurs were an anatomical marvel, evolved over centuries to have the perfect combination of strength and speed. Their builds made more sense than a humans, she thought-- they were much stronger physically and had tougher constitutions. Their one weakness was their horse's knees, spindly and fragile compared to the rest of their bodies. She'd hardly done any medical work on centaurs in her thirty or so years, but when she had it had been mostly treating broken or dislocated knees.

The small part of her, the part she wished she could keep quiet at times like these wished that someone would get hurt so that she could make herself useful. Give it time, she thought. They were, after all, trapped in enemy territory. It wouldn't be long before something went wrong.

Orren nodded his head at Verdandi's statement. This was indeed a beautiful part of the land. After the elvish advance had been halted, and that horrid race driven back to whence they had came, he would have to lead a group here to claim it. These rolling green hills just to the east of the Kobol Mountains were perfect for a centaur herd. Just enough green grass and open space for a decent group.

"We ought to see to our compatriots," Orren said to Verdandi. "Soon we will have to get moving again."

Orren nodded his head at Verdandi's statement. This was indeed a beautiful part of the land. After the elvish advance had been halted, and that horrid race driven back to whence they had came, he would have to lead a group here to claim it. These rolling green hills just to the east of the Kobol Mountains were perfect for a centaur herd. Just enough green grass and open space for a decent group.

"We ought to see to our compatriots," Orren said to Verdandi. "Soon we will have to get moving again."

Tara awoke to the sound of hooves on the grassy ground; a sound that she'd been hearing a lot of lately but still had not gotten used to. She stood up, straightening her coat and shaking out a tiny wrinkle from her sleeve. She looked around and couldn't help but stare at the amazing beasts on the hilltops.

Centaurs were an anatomical marvel, evolved over centuries to have the perfect combination of strength and speed. Their builds made more sense than a humans, she thought-- they were much stronger physically and had tougher constitutions. Their one weakness was their horse's knees, spindly and fragile compared to the rest of their bodies. She'd hardly done any medical work on centaurs in her thirty or so years, but when she had it had been mostly treating broken or dislocated knees.

The small part of her, the part she wished she could keep quiet at times like these wished that someone would get hurt so that she could make herself useful. Give it time, she thought. They were, after all, trapped in enemy territory. It wouldn't be long before something went wrong.

With a nod, Verdandi took another look at the landscape. She only hoped she wouldn't be attacked while pausing to look at nature's marvels on the way.

Her ears perked as she heard a soft rustling sound coming from behind her; she turned quickly only to see that the doctor had woken up.

"Good morning, Doctor," she greeted, smiling warmly. "Did you sleep well?"

Tin shook out her partly braided hair and yawned widely, her eyes immediately locking onto the humans sleeping near her. She knew these humans meant her no harm, but she still kept her eye on them as she got up and stretched, wiping dirt off her flanks. After so many years with humans as her enemies, it felt odd to be so close to them. She drank from her canteen and nodded at the companions that had already awakened.
"Good morning, Doctor," Tin heard Verdandi greet one, "Did you sleep well?"
Tin grinned at them and went to stand near her leader. She could feel calm oozing off him, and she was reassured by this. After a few moments of silence, she walked back to the main camp and Good morning'ed all those awake.
"Did we all sleep well?" She asked a mass question. She got an affirmative response. "Good." She said.
"Less likely to be killed if we're aware," she muttered to herself.

Tara was glad to be called Doctor.

"I slept alright," she said. She was still studying the centaur, wondering what it would be like to be so fast and large. Even this one, smaller and thin-- somehow more delicate than the others she had seen was giant and made her feel fragile and small.

"What?" Verdandi asked. "Is there something wrong?"

Tara jumped, realizing she'd been staring. "No, nothing wrong. How about you? Is there anything I can help you with? Aches or pains? I feel a bit useless."

But before she could receive an answer, the male centaur, Orren, yelled, "Quiet!"

Tara whirled around. She didn't hear anything, just her own breathing, fast and frightened. She strained her ears and still heard nothing. The centaurs, however, all were facing the same direction with similar expressions of fear and anger. She wondered if they were listening to something, with their advanced senses, that she couldn't hear.

"What is it?" she whispered, after what seamed like minutes.

"Far away but coming closer. The sound of Elves."

As hiss of metal was heard as Tin took out her spear and a short sword. Her sharp brows were pulled low as she searched the horizon.
"They'll be here in a few minutes," She said. "We'll see them on the horizon - There they are now. Twenty of them." She shifted to face Orren. "Do we want to intercept?"

Orren looked around. They did not have a few minutes. They had to get going now. There was no way that they were going to be able to stand against a group of twenty elves. Even if they could emerge victorious, there was no doubt these elves were not far from reinforcements.

He took a deep breath. Some of his own were not yet awake as well. This was going to be hard to do. But some of them had to survive.

He turned about. "Everyone, flee. Head for the Kobol Mountains, as fast as you can."

He caught Verdandi's arm as she was about to go past him. "Take the doctor with us. Something tells me we will need her ere this is all over."

Verdandi doubled back as quickly as she could, stopping in front of Tara. She lowered herself a bit. "Doctor, please get on my back and hold tight to my waist. It will be quicker this way. Hurry."

It was a strange request for her to be making, but had Orren not asked her to, she probably would have offered the doctor a ride anyway. Not only was she a valuable asset to protect, but Verdandi sensed that she was a friend to them.

Tara barely had time to climb onto her back as she turned once more, having felt the human's arms lock around her abdomen, and galloped toward the mountains, not bothering to look back. She had Orren in her sights, she had faith that the rest of the group would come back together on safer grounds.

I know it's short. Sorry.

Tin urged humans in front of her and started galloping for the hills, pushing her short sword back into its shealth. She would not, however, relinquish her hold on her spear. She might need it.

Okie dokies. Joining now.

Full Name: Mell Rean

Gender: Female

Age: 24

Birthplace: City of Kell

Race: Human

Eye Color: Gray

Height: 5'2

Weight: 112

Appearance:

Mell has gray eyes and mousey brown hair that falls just below her chin in unkempt curls; though she looks weathered after the long expeditions with the human army, her fingers are still thin and precise like those of a scribe, though slightly calloused from her work with bowstrings. Her skin, though fair, is extremely dry and prone to cracking in extreme cold. Her facial expressions are slight and she often looks faraway, especially when she is centered in the present moment, oddly enough.


Clothing:

Mell wears a simple tunic of brown with a black, leather belt and black leather boots. She wears her quiver over her shoulder and often wears a pair of thin, brown gloves.

Weapon(s):

Her bow and her arrows

Natural Abilities:

Mell has the power to manipulate the shape and movement of shadows. She has a very limited understanding of her powers and thus rarely uses them. Mell is also deeply obsessed with history, myth and the stories passed down by her people, thus she has an expansive knowledge of the traditions of both centaurs and humans.

Brief History:

It is uncertain who Mell's parents were. She was placed in a family who had lost their own daughter and was raised in the city of Kell where she routinely scoured the nearby temples and their libraries to satisfy her unhealthy curiosity for history and legend. The family worried about the marriage prospects for their daughter and betrothed her to a blacksmith named Thomas in the city. During their engagement, Thomas’s father taught her the bow and arrow. Before the two could be married, Mell was volunteered for the reserves as a bowman where she headed out with the army for the Elvish line of expansion.

Mell woke to an irregularly shaped rock jutting into her back, a grimace twisting her face as she slowly sat up and reached out for her quiver instinctively, jerking her head up when she heard shouts around their camp. She blinked and her heart skipped a beat, her eyes darting to the centaur hauling the doctor Tara up onto her back. Mell scrambled to her feet and slung her quiver across her shoulders.

She gripped the strap of her quiver with one hand, the cold ring on her left hand pressing painfully into her skin. Wiping her hair out of her eyes, Mell watched for a minute, in fascination, as the centaurs called for retreat, and a shiver raced up her spine, with that same acute feeling of familiarity, a battle playing out as she had imagined in her mind time and time again. Centaurs with those same expression of--Mell could not conjure the words fast enough, yelping in surprise when a centaur jabbed her in the back and urged her to run.

Mell did not spare another look back as she raced after her comrades.

"Just get on!" Tin hissed. She pulled the stubborn human - Mell, she believed - onto her back by grabbing her forearm and pulled Mell's arms around her waist. "Hold on!"
Tin put on another burst of speed, still holding Mell's arms around her until the human could do so herself. She shivered and goosebumps ran up her arms. This close to a human - well, she had to admit she was glad. A bow-weilding human on her back.
"Keep looking behind, get ready to shoot. I'll turn you around, and tie this around -"
Tin unbuckled her heavy belt and deftly flipped the human over. At first Mell yelped, but then understood and loosened the belt to tie it around her. Now she wouldn't fall off. She put an arrow to the string.
"You'd better be good, girl." said Tin. "Don't let them get us, now."
She raced on.

"How-- how do you move so fast?" Tara gasped, her breath whipped away from her by the wind. Verdandi's hair was all in her face, blocking her view. She spat out a long blond strand, twisting to try and see. She couldn't remember ever having gone at this sort of speed, even on horseback.

"Stop moving, Doctor, please. You're making this a lot more difficult."

"I'm sorry," Tara said, not really paying attention. She was frightened, of course. The elves were an enemy she'd only seen the aftermath of. Survivors, if there were any, were usually badly beaten at best, raped and tortured a lot more often. They seemed to have no mercy, either, and in the injuries they left on the corpses in their wake there was a certain creative flair, as if they enjoyed doing what they did.

Still, at the same time, she was distracted. This was the closest she'd ever been to a centaur, close even to being a centaur. And it was like she was flying.