Getting there is half the fun, they said. It was not something Dwyn believed for the most part. The road could be a treacherous place. He allowed his guardian to guide him into the little sideshow more as a way of getting out of the heat than because of any actual interest.

While the other people looking at the captive animals looked on in awe, he felt pity. The creatures there, many of them the last or only one of their kinds seemed like lost souls to him. There was no beauty in their pain. The beauty would have been to see them free and following their nature. Here was only pain.

He paused at the pen where they were told that a centaur was being kept. The man hustling them through forced the poor creature to turn and look at them and Dwyn paused as their eyes met. In those eyes he saw fear and longing and, after a moment, hope. After a whispered discussion with his guardian, a plan was made. The centaur wouldn’t have long to wait.

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