A soft breeze blows as you near a clearing.

As you approach, you see a ...

. . . a centaur.

Spotting you, she stops in her tracks, staring.

Uncertainly - you raise your hand,  partly waving.

Grinning, she spins around, galloping toward the distance.

You hear a lilting laugh, trailing away with her.

How odd.

Curiously, you follow in her direction.