A Centaur.

The enormous form of a centaur trotted around the corner, casting its shadow over the space behind the stable. Xalendra froze with her hand over her mouth, trembling with the suddenly interrupted excitement and mortified at being seen. She only just then realized how enclosed the space she was in happened to be—the centaur stood blocking the only way out.

The princess met the eye of the man-horse, face on fire—among other parts of her body—and he stared back with a heavy frown. Xalendra had never seen a centaur before, only heard of the savage tribes that lived off in the distant wildlands. How one could be so close to Castle Xolstice, she couldn't even guess, but the length of chain leading from his neck around into the stable told her he was most likely not here willingly.

She tried to stand up, knees still a bit weak, and cleared her throat. She wasn't sure what he was doing coming behind the stable—perhaps he heard her—but he didn't seem to lose interest or clear the path out at all. The chain, though, was taught, so he wasn't able to come any closer. As she stared, she heard him speak quietly in some foreign tongue, the meaning lost to her.

Xalendra thought she might be able to push past him to get away, but he was big and strong, with unclear motives. Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, she made an effort to compose herself. She could try asking to get past, but he didn't seem to speak her language. Either way, she wanted to leave—however the ring's persistent buzz seemed to keep her thoughts fixated elsewhere.