<img alt="Image" src="http://img15.deviantart.net/dedb/i/2012/054/a/c/centauress_by_matiasoliverarbon-d4qoxfy.jpg"/><br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">Eowyn</span><br/><br/>A tall, striking centauress picks her way through the dense crowd, choosing the placement of her heavy, dinnerplate hooves with care. Heavy packs straddle her horseback, and the long, slim shape of a leather-wrapped greatsword hangs crosswise between her shoulderblades, its width high enough that the revellers merely have to duck slightly to pass beneath it.<br/><br/>Her coat is glossy and healthy, her hair crimson and lustrous, yet her manner portrays a slight discomfort, perhaps with crowded civilisation, perhaps with the attention of crowds. Her full breasts draw envious glances and open stares, restrained only by binding-straps that restrain them against her chest, and save for a low belt, she's otherwise utterly nude.<br/><br/>Flustered, she prances left, blushing as she stammers an apology to passersby forced to scamper from her path. “I'll take this, please,” she says, fumbling for a few coins in her belt-pouch, snatching a turquoise shirt that's a size too small, but at least in a colour that compliments her coat and contrasts nicely against her fiery hair...