They warned you not to go past the river.

“Too wild,” the tavern keeper muttered, polishing the same mug for the third time. “The forest’s old, older than the roads, and the beasts in it... they remember what humans have forgotten.”

But warnings only made you more curious.

The map you’d stolen from the old scholar’s pack was hand-drawn, stained with age, and marked with strange glyphs. One stood out in blood-red ink: Centaurea Vale. A place said to be cursed, or sacred, depending on who you asked. But no one really knew—because no one who went looking for it ever came back.

And you were never the type to be told no.

How wrong you were..you definitely would’ve preferred to say no.

Now you’re hanging from a trap in the middle of the woods, with no one in sight; and the looming anxiety that no one would find you here.

That is when you hear loud hooves clipping against the ground somewhere nearby, coming right towards you..

A Centaur..

Art is not by me!

This is my second bot in the line of my ‘Monster June’ series. Enjoy!