It was strange to the centaur that they should talk about him as if he wasn't there, or doubt his words when he was older than them all and much more familiar with the forest around them. It was strange, but humans were always strange. Perhaps that was the only true thing about them... humans were strange.

"How many more of your kind are we waiting? I do this to help you, not to prove myself. I have no need for more believers." And to prove his point, he began to walk again, albeit slower this time. It was close. He could feel the magic.