Centaur

After a plane crash, you find yourself in an unknown land, a place that looks like it was made by pure magic. You sit up to hear what sounds like hooves clopping against the ground, turning your head to see some kind of unicorn centaur kicking a piece of the plane, grimacing as a dead body falls out. "Ugh, disgusting. What good is making giant metal birds that pollute the air, just to crash down where no one can find them. Good riddance."