Off Script!

Anthe Rowanbark

Cretis, Taurra: 2022

Minotaurs don’t do subtle.

That's what I learned in my first five minutes in Taurra. The glass ceilings of Cretis International Airport soared above me. The clip clop of hooves echoed through the baggage claim area.

And there I stood.

Anthe Rowanbark.

Geneticist by profession.

Nymph by birth.

And the first of my species to ever set foot in Cretis, Taurra.

The baggage carousel proved to be my first challenge. A behemoth of industrial design, nearly chest-high to me, spinning with luggage scaled for creatures nearly twice my size. I stood on my tiptoes, craning my neck to spot my modest rose-gold suitcase.

"Brand? Camila?" I called, scanning the crowd for my colleagues, but they had vanished into the sea of horns and broad shoulders.

Perfect timing.

I spotted my suitcase approaching and lunged for it, my fingers barely grazing the handle.

It sailed past.

I scurried alongside the moving belt, dodging between minotaur legs and mumbling apologies as I went.

"Excuse me, pardon me, just trying to—" My next grab attempt resulted in me nearly toppling headfirst onto the carousel. I steadied myself against the metal edge, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

A deep chuckle rumbled above me. "Need some help there?"

A massive minotaur bull towered over me. His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, one massive hand already reaching for my suitcase as it came around again.

"I—yes, thank you," I managed, adjusting my glasses nervously.

He plucked my luggage from the carousel, biceps flexing beneath his fitted shirt as he lowered it to the ground beside me.

"First time in Taurra?" he asked, his voice a pleasant rumble that seemed to vibrate through my entire body. He hadn't stepped back, remaining close enough that I could smell his scent—earthy and masculine.

That heady musk that drove females so wild, it required ten extra forms just to vacation here. And for a nymph applying for a work visa... The process had been grueling.

“It’s my first time anywhere.” I laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

His smile widened, muzzle crinkling. "I don't think I've ever seen someone like you in Taurra before."

"That’s because I’m the first nymph allowed out of Sudarolis." I replied, chest puffing a little.

His eyes widened with genuine interest. "A nymph? I thought you were just a particularly pretty elf." He leaned down slightly, studying my face. "You have beautiful eyes. Pink is a unique color.”

I swallowed hard, biting my lip.

I was used to this reaction. Nymphs were a novelty even back home. Most folks were curious at best. Or had a fetish for us at worst.

I doubted this minotaur knew anything about nymphs though. Since we hadn’t been allowed to leave Sudarolis—pretty much ever.

I opened my mouth to respond, but Brand’s voice behind me grabbed my attention.

“Anthe! Where are— Oh! Here she is, Camila!”

The minotaur's eyes flicked to Brand, then back to me, his smile faltering.

"Thank you for your help with my luggage." I said quickly, grasping the handle.

The bull straightened, looking a little disappointed. "Of course. Welcome to Taurra.”

Brand and Camila arrived at my side, both looking slightly winded from navigating the crowd.

"I see you've made a friend," Brand said, his silver-white hair slightly disheveled as he side-eyed the minotaur.

"Just helping the lady with her luggage," the bull said, nodding politely before moving on.

Camila adjusted her iridescent scales, which were shifting slightly in color—a sign she was excited. "They're so much larger here than the mixed-breeds back home, aren't they?"

"Massive," I whispered, still feeling the lingering effects of that earthy musk. I shook my head to clear it.

We gathered our belongings and headed toward the exit, Brand insisting on rolling my suitcase despite my protests. The automatic doors slid open to reveal the bustling pickup area of the airport.

Brand pointed down to a row of cabs. “We can share one of those taxis.”

Camila nodded, but as we started to follow him a group of minotaur bulls caught my eye.

They had stopped in their tracks.

Heads raised, nostrils flaring.

Their attention locked onto an elven female standing at the curb, her luggage at her feet as she checked something on her phone. She seemed completely oblivious to the gazes now fixed on her.

"Oh no," Camila whispered.

One of the bulls approached the elf, his expression intent yet oddly formal. He said something to her that I couldn't hear, but her eyes widened with understanding. A deep blush spread across her cheeks as she nodded.

The bull gestured to a small structure at the edge of the pickup area.

"Is that...?" I whispered, freezing mid-step.

“Yep,” Camila nodded. “I expected to see it, but not the second we landed.”

My eyes widened as two more bulls joined the first, speaking to the increasingly flustered elf. She nodded, looking both mortified and excited as they escorted her toward the booth. One bull was already unbuckling his belt.

Brand huffed, “And that’s why you shouldn’t even let them flirt with you, Anthe. One wrong word—and its you.”

“I don’t think it works like that, Brand.” Camila said with an eye roll.

I couldn't help but notice how utterly normal it seemed to everyone around us. Minotaurs continued their conversations, checked their phones, hailed cabs—while the group casually entered the booth.

The only beings who seemed shocked were obvious tourists.

A group of satyrs with cameras.

A few centaurs with guidebooks.

And us.

"Anthe," Brand's voice was firmer now. "Cab. Now."

I scrambled into the cab after Brand and Camila. The vehicle was massive—clearly designed for minotaur proportions—and I practically had to climb onto the seat. My feet dangled several inches above the floor once I settled in.

"We have three stops. All in the immigrant district. First stop is Halfstep Flats, please," Camila told the driver, a middle-aged minotaur bull with salt-and-pepper fur.

As we pulled away from the airport, I couldn't help but press my face against the window.

The city of Cretis unfurled before me.

Towering buildings with horn-arch doorways lined wide boulevards where minotaurs of all colors and patterns strode with purpose. Some wore business attire, others casual clothes, but all of them were just so... big.

“The size difference really is fascinating to witness firsthand.” I muttered to no one in particular.

“Pure-blooded versus the muted lines in Sudarolis,” Brand nodded, his tone edging into academics. “The genetic diversity among Taurran minotaurs is significantly reduced from the hybridized populations we’re used to. The genetic markers we should be able to isolate—”

“Ugh,” Camila hissed, her scales rippling in irritation, “Can we not talk about work our first day here?”

“You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for work,” Brand countered, his unicorn-shifter heritage evident in the stubborn set of his jaw. "The Minotaur Genetic Heritage Project is the opportunity of a lifetime."

I sighed, turning back to the window as they bickered. A group of minotaur children played in a park we passed. One little calf—though "little" seemed wrong when she was almost my height—noticed our cab and waved enthusiastically. I couldn't help but wave back.

“—and an amazing opportunity for Anthe. She’s lucky I was able to secure her a spot—” Brand continued his rant.

“Oh, please! Anthe would have been welcomed on any research team,” Camila interjected. “You’re not the reason she got accepted, Brand. Her credentials are.”

I turned away from the window, suddenly conscious of becoming the subject of their argument. "I got accepted because I'm a scientific novelty," I said dryly. "Let's be honest."

Brand's mouth snapped shut mid-retort.

Camila's scales flickered a sympathetic blue. "That's not true, Anthe. You're brilliant."

"I can be brilliant and a novelty," I shrugged. "The first nymph to complete the Integration Program, first to earn a doctorate, first to leave Sudarolis... I'm practically a walking press release."

"Speaking of which," Camila leaned forward, her scales shifting to amber, "how's the program handling your medication? I mean, while you’re here.”

Brand shifted uncomfortably beside me. He always got squirmy when my biological needs came up.

“They worked out a special arrangement with the NIP," I explained, fidgeting with the strap of my purse. "I have a three-month supply of supplements with me, and they've arranged for refills to be shipped here. They should keep my needs in check while I’m living here."

Brand cleared his throat. "The unicorn-shifter hormone extraction process is quite fascinating, actually. The compounds—"

"Nobody cares about the chemistry, Brand," Camila cut him off, her attention fixed on me. "So the pills just... replace it? You don't have to like... do it as long as you're on them?"

I laughed despite myself. “Essentially. Without them, I'd need daily..." I glanced at Brand, who was suddenly very interested in the passing scenery, "...activity to avoid hysteria. But once a nymph has reached that state, that's our bodies' way of trying to fulfill the need before we die."

Camila made a hissing sound. “I’m surprised your visa got approved at all. A hysteric nymph in Taurra could be…”

“A public disruption on a mass scale,” I finished for her. "Worse than that South Fae University incident a few years ago. They still replay that nymph's clips on the news every time something happens." I shuddered before continuing, "Trust me, getting my visa was a bureaucratic nightmare. The NIP administrators nearly had collective heart attacks when I applied for international travel to Taurra."

“I had to sign the extra consent forms too,” Camila said, flicking her tongue rapidly. Claws drumming against a scaled thigh. “I can only imagine.”

"I had to get permission from practically everyone," I said, letting out a dry laugh. "First, the NIP administrators had to petition the Sudarolis government to allow me to leave. Then, I had to go through three separate video interviews with Taurran immigration officials. And I had to sign additional waivers that if my pills fail for any reason—"

“No exemptions,” Camila nodded. “I had to sign a similar agreement.”

The cab driver cleared his throat, clearly eavesdropping. “Everyone has to sign them. Tourists. Immigrants. It would be too difficult to keep up with exemptions.”

I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly exposed as the driver met my gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be discussing Anthe’s unique physiology in mixed company,” Brand grumbled under his breath.

The driver grunted and returned his attention to the road. The cab fell into an awkward silence as we continued through the wide boulevards of Cretis. The buildings gradually changed from sleek downtown high-rises to more modest structures as we entered what I assumed was the immigrant district.

"First stop," the driver announced, pulling up to a narrow building wedged between two larger structures. "Cedar Street, Halfstep Flats."

I peered through the window at my new home. The building exterior radiated qauint, cozy charm. Flower boxes decorated each window sill, ivy climbed up the side. It clearly had been a minotaur townhouse at one time, now converted into an apartment for other species.

"This is me," I said, gathering my purse and sliding toward the door.

Brand had already jumped out of the cab, helping the driver retrieve my suitcase from the trunk. I hopped down from the oversized vehicle, my feet landing on unfamiliar pavement. I heard Camila chuckle inside the cab.

"I'll help you get settled," Brand offered, wheeling my suitcase toward the entrance.

"You really don't have to—"

"It's no trouble," he insisted, cutting me off.

Camila leaned out the window. “Brand, she doesn’t need your help! The meter is running.”

I flashed Camila a grateful smile.

“I’ll see you guys at work on Monday,” I waved, watching them drive off.

I spent the next hour organizing my new living space. The building manager, a stocky dwarf with a graying beard, had been surprisingly accommodating as he showed me around the apartment.

"Small folks' building. Built for elves, dwarves, gnomes, halflings," he'd explained with a huff. "Never housed a nymph before, but the scale's right for you."

I stood in the center of my now-organized apartment, admiring the clever design. Everything was perfectly sized for someone my height—countertops at just the right level, furniture I didn't have to climb onto, and doors that were just right. The whole place had been furnished with slightly outdated furniture.

But the rent had been too good to pass up.

My stomach growled, an insistent reminder that I hadn't eaten since the bland airplane meal hours ago. I checked my watch.

Still late morning.

I would need to stock my pantry anyway, and a grocery run would give me a chance to explore my new neighborhood.

I rummaged through my purse for my wallet and phone, then paused at the front door, taking a deep breath. My first solo excursion into Taurra. No Brand hovering protectively, no Camila to explain cultural nuances. Just me—the first nymph to walk these streets.

"You've got this," I whispered to myself, locking the apartment door behind me.