Chapter Text
Your body heaved as you clambered up a rocky slope, the wind breezing through your hair. Your hooves dodge all the stones with the precision of a mountain goat. The fence up here was broken and needed fixing, one of the cows had tripped into it and snapped the old rusty wire, giving her some injuries. She’s been treated for her injuries though, so it’s just the fence needing to be fixed up. You’ve lived in these hills your whole life, you could probably navigate them blindfolded. The wind dies down just as you make it to the top, you eye the snapped wires and half rotted fence. Putting on leather gloves, you reach back towards your saddled back for the bundle of fresh barb wire and get to work.
You’re a centaur, your more equine part is a quarter horse along with the rest of your family. Your coat was a smokey buckskin, while your father was just regular buckskin. Your mother has a red roan coat, and your little sister has a sorrel coat, taking on the red tones your mother had. Your two older brothers were twins, both being a handsome bay. You had a single white sock on your back right foot as well, along with some lighter dappling on your coat.
Wiping sweat off your forehead, you finish up the fence. You slide your gloves off then stuff them in your saddle pack. One unfortunate thing about being a centaur is you have to have a herd or at least a companion. It’s impossible to saddle yourself up or take anything off without a lot of struggling and frustration, it kind of makes you feel like a toddler who can’t get dressed. With the fence finished, you carefully trot down the hill. The way back is about 30 minutes out, but if you gallop it’ll be maybe 10. With the wind picking up again, you decide to book it as a storm is most likely rolling in. Luckily centaurs are hardy and don’t mind bad weather unlike humans, and we can live in the outdoors easier too.
The ground flys by beneath you, your feet pounding on the freshly dry ground, most likely to be wet in a couple minutes. You kick up dust as you go, it reminds you of western movies where they gallop off into the sunset but you’re galloping back home in the windy storm. You pass pine trees, as you don’t live in the plains. It’s borderline high desert on your land, with a decent amount of forests that the cattle were probably in right now.
Your family runs a ranch, specifically meat cows. Of course you own other animals, but those are the main profit. It’s freshly spring and calves are being born at every hour, so early tomorrow you’ll head back out to watch the cattle and count the new babies in preparation for when they’ll get their vaccines and ear tags, along with sexing them if the mother allows you to get close. The nice thing about being this big, it allows you to fight with the cattle a little easier. You were a dainty little centaur, weighing in at just about 900 pounds and 15 hands. Your sister was a tad larger than you, and your brothers were the largest in the family, weighing in at 1,200 and 17 hands.
You burst out of the trees, and you see your home as you fly over the hill. Due to everyone in the house being centaurs, it was more of a very glorified barn, but still very nice inside. Humans found out about centaurs maybe 20 years ago, and since then have started manufacturing things for them such as toilets, beds, blankets, and more. A little walk away from the house are cabins, for when ranch hands come in the summers. You and your sister take care of the cabins and tidying them because you’re both just small enough to get in. Another short walk from the house, sort of in between the cabins and the house is the barn for horses. Ranch hands will sometimes bring their own horses so there’s stalls for them there. Along with the barn is a round pen and a small arena for practice and training. Occasionally you’ll take in colts to train up to a certain point and either sell or wait for the ranch hands so they can work on the colt of they choose to.
You skid to a stop just in front of the large door of the house, opening it. Panting you sluggishly walk in, making sure to wipe all four hooves on the rough brushes to get dirt clumps of rocks out of. Your sister helps you out of the pack saddle you had on, you shake and reach pack to pat down the hair that the saddle pushed in the wrong direction. The house looks similar to a cottage if the roof was raised high and the floor plan was blown out to have large open spaces. The floor was a simple cobblestone except for occasional area rugs, and as soon as you enter it’s a very large open space with a direct view to the kitchen. All countertops and tables are very high so no centaur has to bend over to work on the counter spaces, and the oven was raised as well, along with the dishwasher. Your mother tried to keep it very homey, there was a fire going in the fireplace, and in the kitchen were herbs and flowers strung from the ceiling to dry.
You wave hello to your mother, then push the door open to your room. It was moderately sized, with a large round mattress on the ground, lined with lots of pillows. You had your blankets folded to the side so you could easily throw them on you when you went to sleep instead of trying to shimmy all 900 pounds of you into them. You weren’t feeling extremely peckish tonight, so you opted out of dinner. The dinner table has no chairs, and is the lowest to the ground. Where there would be a chair, there was a large cushion and pillows for laying down on. This helped with relaxing and if more human-like creatures came over, they could eat with you without feeling like a little bug.
You go to the bathroom to freshen up before bed, washing your face and cleaning your hooves similar to how one would wash their hands. By the time you’re done it’s dark, and you’re tired. You crawl back to your room, your hooves dragging on the stone floors. Flopping onto your bed, you throw the blankets onto you and curl up. The rain has arrived, and is now pattering on the rooftop lightly, soothing you.
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It’s still dark when you wake up, about 4:30 in the morning. It’s you and your sister Sparrows turn to check on the cattle this morning. Groaning you get up, tripping over your pillows. Sparrow helps you get up and get some food before you both head out. Exiting the house, you hear the coyotes barking and howling like they do every night, along with the beginnings of frogs and crickets. You used to play in the streams when you were a filly, catching tadpoles and newts. You still like to do it sometimes, it’s something you’d probably never grow out of. Your night vision is pretty good, much better than a human. You’re used to being outside at night from staying in cow camps and doing cattle drives over the years. Your first drive was when you were just 6. Centaurs mature much faster than humans do. It was definitely still a trek for your tiny body.
Checking the cows goes fast, 9 calves born overnight. 3 males and 6 females, all healthy. No one else is injured, so you head back. Later, you and your two brothers plan to go out to check fences. Sparrow and you make it back quick, going back to sleep. When you wake again, it’s your brother Asher, shaking you.
“Knock it off-“ you growl out, but Asher cuts you off.
“Let’s go already, it’s nine! We’re running behind schedule. Me and Finch still have to go check the hay fields later, you’re slowing us down.” Asher barks out. You grumble but listen, getting up. Asher and Finch quickly leave with you in tow, starting on the edge of the property line closest to the road. Both of them were 26, while you were 22. Both were also fucking jacked from doing farm work, as they also pulled the sleighs for the cattle’s hay in the winter. You all walk in a line, bumping each other every so often.
You've decided to dawdle behind them somewhat, surveying on how rusty the wires were along with how rotted out some poles were, a couple of the poles already needed to be replaced before the cows get out. The flies have come out now, biting at you. With a flick of your tail, they’re off and you’re on your way. You’d have to put some big spray on later. You can’t see your brothers anymore as they’ve gotten farther up, but you’re not super concerned. You’re just trotting along to catch up while glancing at the fence when you hear Finch yelling. Perking up, you go into a lope to make it over the hill and see what’s going on.
Looking down the slope, you see Finch, holding up a skeleton monster by the collar of its jacket. It’s yelling, Finch is yelling, everyone is yelling. You gallop down the hill, and slide to a stop in front of your bigger brothers.
“PUT IT DOWN WHAT ARE YOU TWO THINKING??”