Despite wearing the little silver centaur charm around his neck constantly for this very event, the rugged Tsigane is still startled when it suddenly starts to glow and hum.
"The call!"
It was fortunate he was at the start of a hunt, with his heavy bow in hand, a quiver full of his thick arrows and a small holdall containing a water-skin and food supplies. With a momentary glance around at the cool green woodland he may never see again, Tsigane snaps the leather cord, grasps the charm in his meaty hand and wills it to answer the summons.
After a disconcerting moment, where reality seems to shift and melt under his four hooves, Tsigane feels a prickly heat burn into his naked shoulders and he's forced to shield his eyes from the sudden yellow brightness.
Squinting through the haze, he finds himself in the centre of a frenetic battle with men and horses on all sides. He's arrived just in time to see the armoured Human; Fortu collapse, as if chopped down by an unseen axe. The only people he recognises still on their feet are the two Elves; Arowe and the nearby Rifkin.
Arowe is almost immediately barged and buried under a quartet of those beautiful horses but the bloodied Rifkin stretches up his hand.
"Quick! Get us out of here!"
Yanking the lightweight Rifkin onto his back, Tsigane gallops off, away from the melee as fast as he's able on the shifting sand. Sweat's already pouring off his muscled human torso and a white salty lather covers his chestnut coat. He's not built for this environment, he's too heavy and while carrying Rifkn, he won't be able to maintain this pace for long...
Luckily for them, they're not pursued and, when a safe distance is put between them, the puffing Tsigane slows to a trot before stopping and helping Rifkin down.
"Where are we, who were they, what do you want to do and how can I help?"
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