Meeting the herd

You met with Brandy’s family herd the day before Christmas. Although Brandy has warned that members of her family preferred to be naked, most would be wearing Christmas jumpers and “horse rugs” due to the cold. Brandy was wearing a warm jumper and a rug you had brought her last Christmas. She had her saddle and saddle bags on, as there were presents and other items she had packed for Christmas. The rest you had packed in the car. You would be staying with Brandy’s mum for the next two days. Marnie had her tail wrapped in a custom-made tail ‘sock’ that Brandy had commissioned. You were wrapped up warm.

You had driven to a meeting point and followed Brandy to the herd. The New Forest, for people who don’t know, is only partially wooded, with the rest being open scrubland and heather. A few centaur herds roamed here. Tending to the animals that lived here and keeping the heather under control.

It was a magnificent sight. You had only seen a few centaurs before, and in the city, not the wide-open spaces. You heard the first, the sounds you would expect from a large gathering of people. But also the thundering sounds of heavy hoof falls. Then you see the caravans. Large, brightly coloured, and rustic. Traditional caravans, some looking to have been passed down for generations, with patches on the canvas, repairs, and worn paint. They had wide, broad steps to allow centaurs to climb. Straps and handles to allow them to be pulled by a centaur. The centaurs themselves had a wide range of different coat colours under their warm clothing. Skewbald seemed the most common.

A large male centaur came trotting up to greet them, wearing a Santa jumper but no rug, his chestnut fur thick and long. He has a beard and a kind face.

“Daddy,” Brandy called out, and she trotted up to meet him. Taking Marnie with her, leaving you standing, dumfounded on your own.

You quickly caught up as Brandy introduced you. “Nice to meet you, sir.” You politely greeted him.

“No need to call me sir. Name’s Yarraman.” He introduced himself. “So you’re the two pretty ladies my 15th daughter decided to turn into a herd. And I hear you have got a royal dragon to perform the ceremony.”

“That is true.” You reply. “Lily, our dragon friend from Uni, set us up with a connection. She is Angenthraxa’s niece. Also, she says she gets paid in trinkets, something from the event that holds its memory. She hoards precious memories in the form of trinkets, as her family has more gold than sense, according to Lily. So that is making the wedding so much cheaper.” You explained.

“Well, that’s nice,” Yarraman replied. He turned to Marnie on Brandy’s back. “I hope you know that it’s a great honour to be carried by a centaur.” He stated.

“Oh, I am very grateful to your daughter. She is the kindest. Always willing to carry me without me even asking. I have a wheelchair, but I only use it when I’m on my own now.” Marnie explained, blushing.

With the introductions, you got to go and mingle with the herd. All the centaurs here were either Brandy’s siblings, half-siblings, or stepmothers. They greeted you, asked questions and generally had a good time.

Then you made it to Brandy’s mother. She was Bay, like Brandy, with greying hair in her dark black hair. She wore a multicoloured knitted jumper and a handcrafted woollen rug. She trotted over and gave her daughter a hug. “I’m so happy to have you back for Christmas!” She exclaimed. She kissed her daughter on the forehead.

“It’s good to see you too, mum.” Brandy said as she squirmed out of her mother’s grip.

“And these must be your herd.” Her mother said.

“Mum!” Brandy replied in frustration. “They are not my herd yet, they are my fiancées.”

“Well darling, In my day, once you slept with someone, let them ride you and brought them home, they were considered a herd.” Her mother explained. “It’s nice to meet you. I am Merrie.” She realised she had not introduced herself.

“Well, I have never actually ridden on Brandy’s back.” You admitted. It had not been something you had ever considered and Marnie needed to ride places where you could walk or even cycle. You had all gone out for a Run/Cycle/Ride, respectively, a few times.

“Well that won’t do.” Merrie replied. “I’ll take this lovely mermaid inside. I want to hear all the wedding plans and show off my mother of the bride hat. I hear it is a human tradition for the mother of the bride to wear the largest hat.” She paused and looked at you for confirmation. You nodded. She continued “I know my little Brandy is taking on the more masculine herd leader role but she will still be a bride. I wonder if the other mums will be wearing big hats. I wonder who will have the biggest?” She took Marnie from Brandy, carrying her in her arms not her back and went inside her caravan. It was a faded yellow with tomato and cucumber vines growing from hanging boxes and draping around the canopy.

You couldn’t help thinking that your mum would do her best to outshine Merrie. “Well, I guess I will be getting up now.” You remarked a bit nervously. It was a little bit embarrassing mounting and riding your fiancée in public, even if she was a centaur, especially so as this was apparently a great honour.

“Give Marnie the keys to the car, Mum can take the caravan over and unload it. I have something I want to show you.” Brandy remarked.

You handed over the keys and got up into the saddle. It felt strangely right; you could feel the subtle movements of her body. With her lungs and heart in her human chest, there was not the same rhythmic movement you had experienced from a horse. But you could feel it as you clasped your arms around her waist. It felt so intimate, feeling every twitch of muscle, her breathing increased as you embraced her, then slowed as your touch calmed her.

“It feels weird to have legs on both sides of me rather than a tail on one. It’s like you are hugging me with your arms and legs.” Brandy remarked. “Are you ready for your first centaur ride?”