Out of the shadowy confines of the forest emerges a most rare and mystical creature, a lone, young centauress. She is of fine bone and light of foot and wearing nothing artificial to disguise her natural beauty. As she looks around the vacant valley her soft brown, doe-like orbs scan the surrounding vegetation, long and silky black hair cascades down her back and is tucked behind slightly elongated, elfin like ears.
Her skin is smooth and soft, merging easily into the brown hide that covers her equine half. The morning chill brings out goosebumps and perks up her nipples, a desire fills her, a strong and unwavering desire that her equine half provides as she comes into heat. Ebony tail snapping she rubs her arms to keep warm as her feminine scent fills the air around her, she jogs into the middle of the pasture wanting to keep warm.
Unbeknownst to the young centauress there is another near the pasture that has taken an active interest in her presence. A young obsidian stallion is drawn to the pasture by the promising scent of a mare in heat. The stud prances into the pasture, tail flagged and neck arched in order to impress a mare he is sure is there, a low rumbling emanates from his nares.