Fiona sat against a tree watching the sun set; it had been a fine day for her: her chores had been done early, the cute boy down the lane had given her a flower that she now held in her hand, and nothing had gone wrong.
But things rarely stayed that way. Fiona felt the ground rumble slightly growing steadily stronger, and then came the rolling thunder of approaching hooves. Fiona sprang up, she knew they were coming. She ran back to the village screaming, “Centaurs! The centaurs are coming!”
She managed to shout her warning a second time before several centaurs darted past her into the village. She saw some chase after some villagers, laughing like jesters; some broke down the doors into the homes and started looting the villagers’ valuables. Fiona stood there wondering what to do when…
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