"Pissing Victorious. Vic for short," he growls, leaning down to try and emphasize just how big he is. "'Sa perfectly good centaur name, pipsqueak! A gerund followed by an adjective. That's how it works."

It's not the best name and the idea of someone mocking it is hitting a little close to home. Why can't things ever just be cool? Vic's tail flicks and his sides shiver. He crosses his arms and puts his hands in his armpits, the hair barely contained by the shirt straining to cover him, so they don't betray him.