#centaur doc

Hauling the carts would have been a strenuous task for a horse, and while he could usually out pace a horse himself the lack of food and rest would have any stallion crippling. His vision was going fuzzy at this point but he knew slowing down would only result in more pain.

He didn't notice right away when some of the humans started screaming- the bastards were always shouting about one thing or another, not to mention his perception has gone down significantly in the last couple weeks. However the higher pitch eventually got him to look up, the loading yard was beginning to devolve into a panic. He stopped fully when he realized there was no one guiding his cart anymore, the usual hands on his reins were gone and instead they were slack, hanging from the harness strapped over his chest. He curiously lifted them in his hand before looking around once again.

The scuffle of the loading yard was having trouble processing in his brain. Humans were scattering around, horses and centaurs alike were rearing and bucking- it took even longer for him to realize that a few of the centaurs were bare. No harnesses, saddles, or buckled leather. Wild centaurs.

This was a... Uprising? A jail break? Something of the matter. His brain was coming too slow to think past that. He did know this was his chance though. His fingers clumsily reached behind him for the straps of the harness. Reins off first, then the cart from the horse collar, then the horse collar itself. One step at a time.

Then the reins were yanked from his hand, "Down boy. We're getting out of here." It was the Yard Master. The bastard that had his hide branded once they determined him broken in. It still stung, and their company logo was ugly as sin.

He snorted at him, trying to pull the reins back, but his arms were lashed with a flogger. "Ah-Ah. Don't start fighting me now you fucking animal or I'll have you back in the stocks by the time this whole thing blows over. Now stay down would you."

Doc stomped his hooves aggressively but ultimately dropped the reins and let the Yard Master take a hold of them. His fuzzy brain too out of it to ignore the command for what it was. The Yard Master undid the straps to the cart in a hurried motion. Doc grunted, taking a few steps forward as the weight of the cart dropped away, but his arms were lashed again before he went far.

"I said to stop you stupid fucking-" his sentence was cut off with a wet gasp. Doc could feel something splatter against his fur.

He turned, processing the sight much slower than he should have. The Yard Master's throat was slashed open, practically gauged out by claw marks as he hurriedly tried covering the wound, choking and sputtering and spitting blood. There was an avian perched on shoulders, face covered with a purple bandana. When it took a few seconds too long for the Yard Master to collapse the avian grumbled under its breath and pushed off of him, sending him to the ground as it fluttered in the air for a second before landing on Doc's back. The avian trilled pleasantly.

Then Doc noticed the bright red wings, yellow and blue at the tips. "Grian?"

Grian's head tilted to the side before he pulled down the bandana, revealing his grin, "Hey Doc. You look like shit."

He couldn't help but crack a delirious smile back at him, "I feel like shit. What took you so long?"

"Well excuse me, they dragged your giant butt halfway across the continent," he replied with a roll of his eyes. He motioned with his hands for Doc to turn back around and he did, tail flicking as he felt Grian's claws begin to unclasp (and in some places tear) the harness off his chest. As he waited he watched a few centaurs drag bodies behind them, all yard workers and "animal" trainers, they were tied by the foot and pulled through the dirt. If they weren’t already dead they would be soon.

“You brought in some reinforcements?” Doc asked, shifting where he stood. He couldn’t wait to finally be out of this hellhole.

“The local herd had some of their own here, they agreed to help. They’ve been meaning to go east for ages but couldn’t before half of them were rounded up and turned into work ponies like your sorry ass. I'm still trying to figure out why you’re all the way out here. My best guess is that this is as far into the west as they could get you; you can’t just jump a fence and cross back over to where this shit is so fucking illegal. We’re taking the whole herd with us by the way– Get out of this stupid country and back to the Craft Empires,” Grian explained. Doc nodded along to most of the words, but honestly he had only heard half of them.

The harness slipped away and he was sawing at the strap of the collar now, it coming off surprisingly easier compared to the multiple straps of the harness. He sighed in relief as everything dropped to the ground and he trotted away a few feet from the cart, laughing at the lack of weight.

Grian laughed in his ear, his talons digging in, just enough on his back to stop from falling, but not painful. Never painful. “Woah there man, slow down, I'm still back here."

"I know. I know. I missed you, you pesky bird. Let's get the fuck out of here," Doc grinned, spotting the moving herd and following after them quickly. He could ignore the exhaustion for a little bit longer.