Centaurica Fiction: Coptaur: Chapter 3: Rules of Engagement

The following work is entirely fiction. Any resemblance to living characters and real situations is purely coincidental. This work is intended for mature readers. If you are either under age (18) or find offense in material meant for gay readers please exit now.

Chapter 3: Rules of Engagement

 There was no transformation process. It was so just as Sagi had pronounced the words. Shay instantly knew himself as a centaur and that he was headed out on his first assignment in his new home, Taur’s Prairie.

 It was a small, ramshackle community of wooden buildings and adobe or clay houses with thatch roofs on the edge of a hardwood forest. The town’s center was situated on the sides of wide red dirt street. He had crossed a wide stone bridge across a small river about a half-mile outside of town and looking out from it across a large prairie he could see tall mountains on the distant horizon.  The mountains were orange colored. He wondered what substance on New Centauri would cause them to be so distinctly orange.

Otherwise, the place wasn’t as different from Earth as he might have expected. It seemed to him that dealing with differences from his former existence weren’t all that important. Taur’s Prairie reminded him of the kind of place cowboys called home in old black and white westerns. Though no horses, or anything else for that matter, were tied to hitching posts here. There weren’t any hitching posts.

 The air was sweet and he took a big lungful as he noticed his proud chest expanding. His was a great body and he felt great pleasure in it. He had to work to keep from becoming aroused all the time. His past as a gelding made him very aware of what it was to be fully in tact again. Good.

First things first, he needed to find the Constabulary and get settled in.

There was a watering hole, Three Gs, a few yards down the way. The barkeep would know where to send him.

 

The door was wider than any entrance door he’d ever seen for a saloon. The thought only lasted a second before it became accepted as having been constructed for taurs like him. He listened to his hoofs hitting on the wood planks of the walkway and approved of the sound. He had hoofs now and he liked them.

The place was dark and quiet. There wasn’t a soul to be found inside. He walked to the bar and rapped his knuckles on the smooth wood.

“Be righ’ wi’ ya!”, a hoarse voice yelled from the back of the place.

 So far Shay hadn’t encountered another one like himself. On approaching the town he saw some animals that looked like large blue- skinned armadillos, but they raced to hide from him. He heard what he thought might be birds singing in the trees though the sound of their song was peculiar to him.

 A large grey-bearded taur with his hair pulled back and tied in a ponytail pushed his way through the back door. He was hefting a wooden box filled with vegetables or fruit of some sort.

 Shay knew well enough not to question the little things that were normal for these folks. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself beyond the fact that the new constable was already an outsider. Sagi had told him not to disclose how he had come to New Centauri or this little berg in particular. He just needed to get the locals to trust and depend on him, to learn all about their ways and the ways of being wholly taur. He hoped it wouldn’t prove too difficult.

 “How do, stranger. Wha’ can I ge’ ya?” The older taur was as handsome as any male he might imagine. Shay wondered if all the male taurs were so well disposed. His eyes were bright and he had a ready smile that was welcoming. Not like the cards-close-to-their-chests sorts in all those old westerns.

 “Name’s Shay Sundowner.” He looked to see if there were any recognition in the other taur’s eyes. Nothing.

 “Pleased ta mee’ ya, Mr. Sundowner. I’m Cyrus Cennataur ta owner o’ this little saloon in ta middle o’ nowhere. Haven’t seen ya before. What brings ya ta my fine establishment? “

 Cyrus laughed heartily, but he could tell the question was more serious than just making conversation with a stranger. He decided to get right to the point. “I’m the new constable.”

 Cyrus immediately took of his apron, walked out from behind the high bar and greeted Shay properly. He about shook Shay’s arm off he was so happy to meet him. Now this is more like it, Shay thought to himself.

 “I am sa rightly pleased tha’ ya will be taking o’er ta position. Ya know we haven’ had a constable fer almos’ a full cycle now. Everyone’s goin’ ta be excited ya’ve finally arrived. We’ll be puttin’ on ta feed bag tonigh’.” Cyrus’ grin was so big Shay imagined falling into it.

 “Ya’ve come ta tha righ’ place, Good Saur. As it happens I have ta key ta tha constabulary and ta tha constable’s cottage, too.  And a migh’y nice little place ‘tis, too.  My sistaur’s eldes’ daughtaur, Fiona, jus’ got i’ ready fer ya ta other day.”

 Shay reckoned that Cyrus’ distinct accent was something all the locals would also possess. He listened to it closely figuring that it might help if he learned the style of the native speak, as it were. It would aid him in fitting in.

 Cyrus slapped Shay on the back and looked him in the eye. “Migh’ I say ya are a verra fine lookin’ fella, Mr. Sundowner, and I da like me fine lookin’ fellas! I tink ya’ll be fittin’ in real well in na time.” Cyrus winked at Shay and he felt himself blush.

 Things were lookin’ up already. These taurs were really forward folks, if Cyrus was any indication, and that suited him just fine. To think of it, a pass with the very first meeting with his new kind. Just like that!

Copyright 2012 by G. W. German. All Rights Reserved. No part of this work my be republished or used ina ny way without the express permission of the author.

SourceURL:file://localhost/Users/GWGerman/Documents/Coptaur.doc

 

 

 

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