#Equine muscle pain relief

[horsentale]

Springtime Products For Horses

As winter is almost over for some of us and we're all getting back into riding again. And we can feel springtime in the air. It's time to get your equine athletes back in shape, looking and feeling good.

SPRINGTIME PRODUCTS FOR HORSES As winter is almost over for some of us and we’re all getting back into riding again. And we can feel springtime in the air. It’s time to get your equine athletes back in shape, looking and feeling good. Some of you might be dealing with scratches, possibly thrush from the weather. Or you just want to get your equine manes and tails looking fabulous. Either way…

[bojackhorsemanobviously]

The creators of bojack sure gave my boy so many problems he needs a VET FAST.

Buck Knee

 This is a forward deviation in which the knee is set too far forward in relation to the leg. Even though over at the knees is a structural fault, many horses with this condition have long, productive performance careers.  This is either congenital (they were born with it) or can be result of an injury to the check ligament or tendons in back of the knee. If a horse has buck knees, the knee will be forward of the line that divides the foreleg in half. This makes the horse susceptible to bowed tendons.

Splay Foot

A term used to describe a horse that stands with its toes pointing out (laterally) . More common in horses with a base wide conformation. Also known as duck footed.

What is a ewe neck in horses? a thin neck with a concave arch occurring as a defect in dogs and horses. These horses will often struggle to build a healthy topline and will look “ewe necked”. Horses with over used neck muscles can benefit greatly from massage, stretching and mobilization exercises. Pain relief can be achieved if the muscles can relax and move normally

Wall eye

In horses, a blue coloured eye is called a “wall eye”. Horses may have two blue eyes or could have one blue and one brown eye. The blue colour is caused by lack of pigmentation in the iris.

Horse with wall eye. eye unable to open normally. equine eyes are extremely sensitive and will develop an intense inflammatory response to damage or irritation, meaning that the initial problem can quickly escalate to scarring and possibly ultimately to blindness2.

FAT HORSES

When a horse gains excess body weight as fat (adipose tissue), their performance and use declines. Bearing excess body weight impacts hoof health by weakening the hoof wall, heel buttress, and bars of the foot. Obesity is a risk factor for developing osteoarthritis and other joint problems.

SWEETS

Feeding a healthy horse three or four sugar cubes is unlikely to cause a significant glucose spike; however, for a horse with uncontrolled IR, PSSM, or a laminitis history, feeding sugar cubes isn't a risk worth taking. Skip the sugary treats, too, if your horse is overweight, especially if he has a cresty neck

[voievod]

— in which Vlad and Cătălina discover an unexpected connection through their understanding of untamed spirits, both equine and human.

word count: 7,645 words

warnings: mentions of dangerous animal behaviour

a/n: After quite some time, another chapter from When Paths Cross is here, and things are getting quite exciting at this point! Writing this was both pain and pleasure — for quite some time, I did not know which direction to go. At the end, I felt like these two took over and decided to write their story for themselves, which is in fact very fitting for both Vlad and Cătălina. ❤️️ I want to dedicate this chapter to @rose-vybe who has supported my Wallachian adventures for such a long time and who singlehandedly drives me forward in this endeavour. I hope you will enjoy this one, too. 🥰️

➨ also available on AO3

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February 1450, Curtea Domnească, Suceava, Moldavia

The stables hold their breath. Gloom seeps through the cracks in the wood, pools in the bedding of fresh straw and shavings. The sun lingers just below the horizon, unwilling to sever night’s grip entirely. Cătălina’s fingers feel numb when they reach for the latch, and she slips through the entrance. The scrape against the ground is too loud and reverberates through her chest. She exhales into the chill, and a plume of white dissolves before her face. Her fingers twitch against one another, desperate for the warmth she cannot conjure while her eyes adjust to the darkness, seeking out the telltale sign of Dumitru’s presence.

Where is he? Her eyes search for a glimpse of copper as she shuts the gate behind her — a flicker of movement, a figure half-formed by the sparse light that clings stubbornly around her.

Their paths often converge here these days. As the new stable master, he has a way of appearing before the light, his boots hard against the packed earth in a tempo too sharp for sleep’s remnants, eyes searching for anything that could — or would — go wrong. This world belonged only to him first, before she insisted on intruding against his will. Her stubbornness was inevitable — he knew that much — and when he found her, raw defiance burning in her expression, there was little use in scolding. He stood with his weight half-shifted to one hip, exhaling his irritation like a storm just passed. We are not at home anymore, and this is not proper. But he still showed her the chestnut stallion that has become her dear companion since that day, an unpolished treasure hidden in plain sight, overlooked by the voivode and his retinue who sought only spectacle. His hands were steady as he bridled the horse for her. Please, he murmured, the words spilling between the master and his animal, between brother and sister. Bring him back in one piece.

But not today. Today, there is only the biting cold, the empty darkness, and the horse waiting for her in silence. Like he understands the hour. Like he knows what she needs the most.

She breathes easier, the relief spreading warmly through her bones. So she is alone. She has, at last, escaped her brother who is always watching, always there when her soul aches for silence, when the hours should be hers alone — stolen from duty, from the endless rhythms of waking, dressing, smiling, serving. He knows that her feet often find the route to the stables before the world stirs and her duties commence, eager hands seeking the reins as the sun’s first rays slice through the dimness. He sees everything.

And yet, not now. Not here.

Secure in her solitude, Cătălina approaches the stallion, her shadow folding into his. He greets her with a low snort, and his ears prick towards her. She smiles, and her fingers trail along the dense curve of his neck, patting him with affection.

Her hand finds the brush by habit — she moves it with a rhythm she does not have to think about, from shoulders to flanks, dust surrendering to her strokes and rising in the air. His warmth rises under her touch, the ripple of muscle like a roll of earth beneath her hand, and she loses herself in the work, in a quiet language of trust between them. She bends to his hooves next, feeling the pull in her back as she lifts each leg. The tool in her hand scrapes the packed earth from around the iron shoes. Only then does Cătălina retrieve the pad, placing it squarely on his back with a fluid motion.

A movement caught in the edge of her sight holds her attention, pauses her hand halfway. Her head turns without thinking, her gaze falling on him. That horse. The one she has only seen in glimpses, his master on his back, flashes of black slashing through the space like a thunderbolt. And now he stands there, framed by the muted light.

How did she not notice him fully before? He is like no other creature she has seen or imagined — lean and tall, all elegance and precision, his long legs making him seem more of air than of earth. The chestnut at her side seems heavy now, a hulking presence, while this one is forged from something finer. His neck bends in a sinuous arc, and the shape of his face is unfamiliar, foreign, almost unnatural in its elegance. It narrows where others broaden, stretches where others halt. His coat is black, but it transcends the notion of colour. The blackness moves, shifts under the dim light. It gleams, metallic, like dark water catching stars.

She should not be looking this long. Her hands, her chestnut friend — they demand her focus, and she returns to them with greater difficulty than she expects, centring the pad along the horse’s spine, smoothing it against his back.

She reaches for the saddle, pressing its weight against her chest. The leather creaks softly, the sound familiar and comforting… until it is not. The edge of her boot catches something round and hollow. The bucket betrays her balance. Her ankle twists and sends it skittering to the ground, and it begins to roll across the floor. She does not even try to bite back the curse that spills from her mouth as she watches it strike the wooden beam, loud as thunder in this too-quiet space. Her heart lurches as she snaps her head toward the horse — too close, too close.

The chestnut’s ears flatten and nostrils flare with irritation, but he is contained, manageable. It is the black stallion that unravels at the sound and begins to neigh. His tether groans under the strain of his wild resistance. His head flings upward, neck arched with a terrible beauty, muscles taut with the need to run. His eyes become two white crescents of terror and pierce through her, their language raw and primal. Danger, flee, survive. The air shifts, alive with the quiver of barely restrained panic.

The chestnut shifts with a sharp snort, breaking the tension into jagged pieces. The stallion jerks again, harder this time. His hooves scrape the earth, and the sound they make is like teeth grinding. Around her, the serenity begins to fracture as every horse waits for the moment to shatter for good. Her breath catches, filling her chest but not her lungs. She feels it in her bones, the inevitability of what comes next if she does not stop him. One wrong move, and they will all follow him into chaos.

She should not. She knows she should not. To go anywhere near his horse would be an unacceptable breach of courtesy. The thought swirls like a leaf, spinning around her mind, but her body betrays her. Her hands move before she can think, and she drops the saddle on the ground, into the straw.

Feet draw her closer, tension bleeding into every inch she dares to claim. He knows she is there. The ears flick back like the twitch of an eyelid, his tail cutting the air in sharp, anxious strokes. His nostrils flare wide as though to make her taste the fear that ripples through him, caused by her clumsiness. He shifts, and she notices the tremor in his flank, the dance of restless hooves that strike the earth with a warning. Her pulse quickens. She swallows with difficulty, forces her breath to become slower, lets her body slacken, soften. She moves in a careful arc, the earth beneath her boots scraping gently, grounding her. No sudden movements. No foolish mistakes. She does not look him in the eyes — she knows better than that. Instead, her gaze dips to the ground, traces of him caught in stolen glances through her eyelashes. Let him think I am harmless. Let him see I mean no threat.

“Shh, good boy, beautiful boy… That’s it, calm down,” she murmurs, the words barely brushing her lips, carried by a voice trembling with restraint. Her hand rises, palm up with fingers loosely curled, in a gentle offering. She holds it there, still, deliberate.

Although he calms down, his answer to her gesture is a sidestep, a restless pawing at the soil, ears twitching backwards like the snap of a branch in the forest. She halts, heart sinking, and waits, still and open. His snort is sharp and dismissive, a punctuation to the conversation. She drops her shoulders, shifts her body away. He has won.

“Very well,” she says gently, palms turned to the ground, hoping the pounding of her heart will not betray her. “I won’t come closer, then.”

And then—

“I would be careful if I were you. He bites like a devil.”

—his voice. Low, resonant, slicing through the silence. Cătălina feels it first in her spine. She stiffens, the air in her lungs forgotten, her body jolted by the sound though she wills herself not to flinch. She knows who it is. She does not need to see the sharpness of his profile to recognise him. His presence fills the space and leaves no room for anything else.

Heat crawls up her neck, spreads to her cheeks. She does not turn fully to face him. She cannot. She is caught red-handed, pinned under the weight of his presence and her own trespass. Damn you, you foolish, foolish woman. The horse is not hers, of course, not hers to tame, to speak to in tones that border on intimacy. She is the intruder, and he — damn him, too — knows it.

From the corner of her eyes, she catches a glimpse of Vlad’s figure shadowed against the growing light, the faintest ripple of motion as he steps closer. She carefully retreats from the horse, her gaze dropping once again, this time in deference to the man who owns the beast. But when she dares to look up, his expression is not what she expects. A faint curve dances on his lips, in the lines of his eyes, like sunlight fracturing over water.

He moves past her, and the horse leans into his open palm as though pulled by a tide.

“He warned me well enough,” she says.

“Shouldn’t a lady-in-waiting know better than to lay hands on a nobleman’s horse without his permission?”

“I do know that. I apologise, my lord.”

She should leave it there. She should bow, retreat, let the ground swallow her embarrassment whole. She knows she should. She is always so careful around horses. How could she commit such a trivial mistake, and now, of all times? But the rush of it all — the horse, the man, the danger and the exhilaration — overwhelms her restraint.

“Still, I think he liked my voice,” she adds, a flicker of courage colouring her tone. “He didn’t pin his ears too far back.”

His laughter comes unexpectedly — low and genuine, a sound that reverberates in the space between them. “He respects those who keep their nerve.”

For a moment, Cătălina freezes, caught in the eddy of his laughter — a sound she did not expect, one that ripples through the air, breaking apart the brittle edge of his earlier words, dissolving what she thought he was. She looks at him, truly looks, but only briefly, as if to stare too long might give away the thoughts twisting through her mind. Then, without thinking, she bends and grabs the bucket, hoping the movement might shake the unease off her, set it aside the way she shoves that accursed thing far away from her — out of sight, out of reach, out of her hands which feel clumsy now, exposed.

What kind of man is this?

A man whose eyes hold something deeper, something that watches and waits, and weighs. Vlad saw her flailing, did he not? The futile, ridiculous movements, the fumbling attempts to calm the beast that wanted none of her softness. He must have seen it all. How much of her shame did he quietly gather? And why did he let her linger in it? Would he have let her drown in that moment, if only to see how she fought for air?

She feels his eyes on her even as he steps closer and presses the discarded saddle into her hands. Cătălina grips it like a lifeline, muttering a clumsy “thank you” that feels inadequate, too small for the space between them now. But he has already turned, as if her gratitude is a formality he neither needs nor wants. He takes the brush in his hands, and she catches the moment he drags his thumb over the bristles, testing them perhaps, or just feeling the texture of the object, revelling in its coarse simplicity.

He moves the brush over the horse’s neck like he has done this a thousand times and will do it a thousand more without needing to think. The rhythm is too precise to be careless but too natural to be rehearsed. The strokes carve rhythm into the moment, each pass smoothing the tension from the air, from the horse, from him. She watches the way his hand moves, the strength in it — firm, never rough, just enough to coax a gleam out of the animal’s coat. The sheen spreads under his touch.

Cătălina pulls the saddle into place, her hands deft as they smooth the girth straps and buckle them firmly beneath the horse’s belly. The silence between them is supple but not uncomfortable, stretching between them as she slips her hand beneath the pad to test the fit. Her touch is systematic, the glide of her fingers beneath the leather more than routine — it is a matter of slowing down, a moment she grants herself to watch him without his knowing.

She has seen him only a handful of times since his arrival, but it has been enough to notice how all seems to bend towards him when he enters a room. She could never explain it, not in words that would satisfy reason, but she feels it — knows it — every time he appears; that strange dislocation, the way the space wraps itself around him like a mantle as though it had no choice, no will of its own. Everything converges on him, his figure at once commanding and careless, full of that impossible energy he carries everywhere, like a storm folded into the narrow space of a man’s body. Even when silent and motionless, his stillness feels alive. It is the force of him, she decides, not just his barely contained vigour — the rich, resonant fullness of his voice and expressiveness of movement brimming with sharpness and ease.

Even now, when he is quiet, when his focus is elsewhere, his intensity lingers. It spills out, pooling around him in a way that makes her feel seen even if his eyes never turn her way. Her eyes catch the way he tilts his head, the faint press of his lips in concentration as he crouches to lift the horse’s rear leg and angles it on his knee to inspect the hoof. Then he shifts again and begins cleaning around the shoe with a practised scraping of the pick. For a moment, he seems almost subdued. Almost. She wonders if this is what power feels like — not something taken or given, but something exhaled, filling the spaces between others, making itself known simply because it was too much, too alive, to stay buried beneath the skin of one man.

“He is a magnificent creature,” Cătălina says, her voice breaking the silence only when Vlad rises, his hands streaked with dirt and the musky oil of the horse’s coat.

He frowns, his gaze sharp as he glances around for a rag, hands half-lifted, the residue of the work clinging to the calloused skin of his palms. Without a word, Cătălina reaches over the horse’s broad back and tosses him a cloth. Vlad snatches the rag mid-flight, wipes his palms with a ferocity that speaks less of grime and more of ritual. The cloth returns to her hand in an unbroken rhythm, the act so seamless it feels they have been doing this for longer than either can remember.

“Very stubborn and willful, too. Training him was a battle. He worked brilliantly one day, impossibly the next. He’s quick to temper.”

“Like master, like horse?” the words spill out, playful, unbidden. She tries to press her grin into submission, lips pushed forward in a poor imitation of restraint.

His face shifts, the change so swift it leaves little trace of the moment before. One second, the sharpness of his expression veils him in hard lines and shadows. But then, without warning, it softens, the edges melting into a smile that bares teeth, gleaming with the kind of untamed energy that barely hides what dwells beneath. There is a heat to it, something instinctive and unforced, and with it comes an unexpected warmth. She watches, drawn to his sudden, ferocious enjoyment, and before she knows it, the corners of her mouth betray her again, the grin inching its way into existence.

“At times, he’s tamer than I am. Though I suspect he just hides it better.”

Cătălina cannot help but laugh — a soft, impulsive sound — carried into the air like a feather. Before she can catch it and shape it into a retort, Vlad is already moving, drifting away from his stallion with a peculiar deliberation that feels like the antithesis of haste, his steps a quiet cadence on the floor. His eyes scan the stable’s shadows until they land on the pad. He does not rush. Instead, he brushes his palm across the fabric with a slowness that speaks not of carelessness but of complete control. Grains of dust scatter in tiny explosions of light, unnoticed, unimportant.

The stallion is not pleased. His impatience takes the shape of a nudge — a firm push against Vlad’s shoulder, almost insolent.

“I see you, Kuzgun. Patience,” Vlad murmurs without turning. Then he shifts his head just enough to meet the animal’s deep gaze, and his hand rises to pat the velvety expanse of the horse’s nose.

The horse answers in kind, though not in deference. He nips at the hem of Vlad’s coat, tugging at the fabric with a persistence that borders on playful rebellion. Vlad’s reply comes sharp, stern — words not meant for her ears, in a tongue Cătălina cannot recognise but can feel in the tone, the unmistakable weight of command. The stallion snorts in a sharp exhale of defiance, his body shifting as his hooves carve frustration into the earth. He tosses his head, daring Vlad to meet his challenge, and for a moment their eyes lock — man and beast, two wills entwined in the standoff of mutual understanding. The silence stretches. It bends. And then, the stallion relents, his muscles softening, his stance yielding. Only then does Vlad move, placing the pad on Kuzgun’s back, smoothing it as though silencing the animal’s earlier outburst.

Cătălina’s smile blooms almost unconsciously. “What breed is he?” she asks. “I have never seen a horse like this.”

“You couldn’t have. He’s a Türkmen — very rare in our lands.” Vlad’s hand pauses briefly over the horse’s back. A flicker of something passes across his face, too swift to name. “The Ottomans prize them for their speed and endurance.”

She nods, her reply careful as she treads the path he has opened, unsure if it will narrow or widen. “Of course. I should have guessed.”

The Ottomans. The word hovers between them, a faint echo of old shadows. She weighs her next thoughts carefully, but Vlad, to her surprise, does not retreat into silence. Instead, he speaks again, his voice low and fluid, as though the memory is rolling through him like an underground current.

“Kuzgun was a gift from the sultan. Conditional, of course. He told me that should I succeed in training him well, he would let me have him. It took time, but in the end, we’ve reached an understanding.” His mouth curves into a faint, rueful smile, an expression more honest than most. “Well, at least on most days.”

Looping the halter around his neck to keep control, she carefully places the bit in the chestnut’s mouth and pulls the bridle over his ears, making sure the straps are adjusted and buckled correctly. “So he doesn’t give trust easily — much like his master.”

Her words hang there, suspended, and she sees the moment they land. Vlad tilts his head, his eyes suddenly fixed on her — not unkind, but probing, trying to pierce through her defences, searching for a meaning hiding deeper than her words. His lips twitch, a faint crack in his composure.

“How often does this boldness work in your favour?” he asks.

She does not miss a beat. “Often enough. Though you’re the first man to call it boldness.”

“And what do other men normally call it?”

She does not answer, only meets his gaze with a small, sly grin that dances in the corners of her mouth. A lady ought to have a few secrets. Vlad shakes his head, the disbelief tugging at his expression tempered with amusement. He steps closer, the space between them narrowing as he begins fastening the girth straps, his movements seamless.

When his gaze dips to the ground, she notices the dark sweep of his eyelashes, impossibly long, casting shadows as soft as whispers across his cheek. A sharp sting of jealousy blooms within her chest. The absurd unfairness of it — why? What cruel jest of creation is this, that a man, of all creatures, should be granted such finery? What need has he of them, these delicate, curving things, while hers, though respectable, will never inspire this kind of silent marvel? She swallows the ridiculous thought and forces herself to look again.

Beneath such details, Vlad has grown into an imposing man. As Cătălina’s eyes trace him, it is as though she is seeing the younger ghost of his father emerge, blurred at the edges and slightly transformed by time. The hair is the same midnight black, but different — shorter than his father’s ever was, worn against the current tide of fashion and rebelliously curling at the nape of his neck and the tips of his ears. His nose, aquiline and proud, arcs downward in the same line inherited from a man whose shadow he cannot yet escape, though it settles less gracefully on his younger face. His jaw is his father’s too, squared and unyielding, and so are the prominent cheekbones sitting high on his face. Clean-shaven to perfection, his skin bears no shadow of stubble. He is not much taller than her, and when he steps closer, she notes that the top of her head reaches the level of his eyes. It does not matter. His body speaks what his height does not — the breadth of his shoulders, the strength carved into his muscular back, visible even beneath the heavy folds of his coat.

He is hardly a beautiful man. His features are sharp and strong, forged for endurance rather than admiration. And yet, there is an undeniable allure to him, a ruggedness that demands attention. It is his eyes that captivate her the most. Green, like his father’s, yes — that same mossy depth — but burning with something entirely his own. A fervent, blazing intensity that she has never seen before and cannot look away from now.

He looks at her then, holding her gaze, and for an instant, she feels herself rooted, struck still, unable to breathe. When he turns away, she exhales, frustrated by the hold he has over her, and yet, inexplicably, she craves the moment when he will look at her again.

“Does your brother know you’re here, causing trouble on your own?”

Cătălina tilts her head, a flicker of defiance sparking in her smile. “Do you often converse with any lone woman you find in the stables?”

“What gave me away?”

“You look far too pleased with yourself to be innocent.”

No — that was a misstep. Not like this. She has teased him enough, and though her position at court affords her some measure of authority, he is still a former voivode — a man whose name once carried the weight of rule, however short-lasting it may have been. The distinction lingers, and she knows better than to test its limits. The thought gnaws at her as she waits, her breath shallow, watching him measure her words in silence. Too far?

But then — unexpectedly — his lips curve faintly, an ember of humour sparking in his expression. Relief flickers through her, though she feels its tenuousness. She cannot leave the moment to chance. Before he can speak, before the fragile balance shifts, she steps in to smooth the edges, “And you ask questions when you already know the answers.”

“Sometimes, the answers surprise me.”

“Then I hope you feel entertained.”

“Curious, too.”

Vlad pauses in his ministrations and leans against the beam with a certain ease, his frame folding into a posture that speaks of rest but not weakness, an ease without surrender. The wood groans faintly as his weight presses in. One ankle hooks over the other, and his shoulder brushes the wood. He crosses his arms against his chest, and for a moment — almost imperceptible — his gaze wavers, testing the weight of what lingers unsaid, a scale tipping in silence. Then his eyes, clear and certain, find hers again.

“Costea was an exceptional rider. I remember watching him hunting. He was the one who taught you a way around horses, was he not?”

Hearing the name escape Vlad’s lips splits her open like a struck vein, and the years spill out in front of her — hot, unstoppable. Her chest tightens. Her throat burns. Memories rush in and carry the sound of hoofbeats, the press of his hand steadying hers on reins too big for her small fingers. Laughter, wild and untamed, like he gave her wings for the first time. And he did — he always made her fly if she willed it so. The ground drops out beneath Cătălina’s feet as though the weight of remembrance has turned the earth to vapour, and suddenly she is everywhere but here — too far away, too close, lost in the echo of a voice she can barely hold in her mind anymore.

Her fingers twitch, trembling, and she drags them to the hem of her dress, gripping it, anchoring herself in its weave because if she does not, she might float away entirely. She blinks, unsure whether out of grief or gratitude swelling in her throat, a sharp ache caught between loss and the strange mercy of knowing that someone else has thought of him, after all.

“You—” she tries to ask, but her voice comes raw, sharp-edged, like a shard of something broken, and she must swallow and try again. “You remember my father?”

Looking at him, she notes she was right about the hesitation. He was worried about how she might accept the remark. He glances down for the briefest moment, and something moves over his face — relief, at least the shadow of it, the kind that disappears before it is fully formed. “He stood out. A man like that is hard to forget.”

“He was fearless. And very patient. He taught me how to ride when I was a child… Not that he had much choice, I climbed into Dumitru’s saddle and refused to come down.” Her hand drifts almost of its own accord, brushing lightly against the stable beam before she looks up again with a wistful smile. “He always said a horse can sense fear, so you must face it head-on. I suppose that’s a lesson for more than just riding.”

“A good lesson. And one you seem to have taken to heart.”

Cătălina’s fingers still, and she exhales, softer this time. She looks up, and there is something lighter in her eyes, though the ache remains, humming beneath the surface like an echo. “Perhaps,” she shrugs her shoulders and laughs, but the laughter comes out slightly hollow, and she waves her hand in a futile attempt to diffuse the heavy atmosphere. “Though sometimes, I think it’s easier to manage a horse than a person.”

“Yet here you are, speaking your mind without hesitation.”

“Courage takes practice, after all.”

They reach for the reins in near unison, her fingers catching the cool leather at the same moment his hand takes hold of his without hesitation. The air between them is brittle with the crisp bite of the morning, the faint scents of hay and horse sweat lingering as Vlad pushes the gate wide. He moves first, and his arm stretches out, a gesture of courtesy meant to guide her through. She steps past him, aware of the weight of his gaze even as her own finds the ground. Their breaths spiral in the cold, and the sharp wind pinches her cheeks as the horses are led out.

He swings into the saddle with a motion so seamless it feels like part of the horse’s rhythm, not a man’s. His back is a line drawn against the sky; one hand holds the reins, the other rests loosely on his thigh. The black horse beneath him sways with impatience, held in the spot only by his master’s waiting.

“Ride with me next time,” his voice cuts through the quiet, and Cătălina glances up into his face, shielding her eyes from the pale rise of the sun.

“Did the entertainment lift your spirits enough, my lord?”

His horse shifts his weight and starts to move around, showing signs of restlessness as he is eager to finally set on the road. He tosses his head, hooves scuffing the dirt, but Vlad steadies him as his thighs press against its sides, turning him around once more to face her. His movement draws her eyes despite herself. The grace of him, the quiet power, she thinks, though she would never admit it aloud. Nothing but muscle and motion. Nothing but a man on a horse. The air feels thinner now, her body lighter as though the earth itself has shifted in his wake.

“Perhaps. But next time, I intend to be the one to provide the entertainment,” he says, and then adds with a faint smile, “And perhaps you’ll tell me how a Muntenian woman found herself at the Moldavian court.”

“Perhaps next time,” she replies, holding Vlad’s gaze for a fraction longer than she means to.

He raises his hand in a wordless farewell, and the horse surges forward beneath him after Vlad clicks his tongue and leans forward in the saddle, kicking the horse gently in the flanks. It is the command the black creature has been impatiently waiting for. The world seems to shift in response, the ground trembling faintly as the beast takes flight. She watches him go, the dust rising in his wake, a scattering of brown across the morning light.

Her own horse hesitates, ears flicking toward the path Vlad has taken. She exhales, soft and even, and pats his neck, her touch firm enough to ground herself as much as the creature. “Enough,” she murmurs, guiding him away. Her chestnut takes his first steps reluctantly, head tilted back to where Vlad disappeared, but she presses her heels in and moves them onward. The road ahead is clear, the cold morning light stretching wide. She does not look back. There is much to look forward to — the rhythm of hooves and the quiet crackle of frost underfoot.

Only many years later, Cătălina will look back at this moment and wonder if these creatures, too, understand when life has irrevocably changed.

one week later

It is not his place. Such things have never been his place. The matters of the heart — all that makes them confusing, complicated, ungovernable — belong to others, not him. He has lived by that truth for as long as he can remember. To guard what little remains of his privacy, to keep the world at arm’s length when needed — that is what the few people of his stature must do. He might have pried once or twice as a boy and questioned Mircea about his endeavours, just as he was questioned in return — brothers share blood, not secrets — but Vlad has always held firm. His life has no room for such entanglements.

And yet.

And yet last week, somehow, without meaning to, without wanting to, he stepped into it. Broke his own rules. Against his will, or maybe because of it. And if he had to be unwillingly dragged into the tangle of other men’s desires, then he wished to resolve the matters swiftly and resolutely.

That is why, only hours after watching her with Kuzgun, he sought out Dracea. He told himself it was his obligation, a friend aiding another. Perhaps it was simple pragmatism. He had to speak before Dracea squandered his chance entirely. He could not stand to watch his friend ruin it, to let something rare slip through his fingers because he was too blind to see it for what it was.

So much for the notion that no man in his right mind would bind himself when his life offers no foundation for permanence…

Why should it matter to him? It should not. It does not. Yet the thought sits there still, unwelcome, cutting through his reason. Aggravation — that is the word for it, though he does not understand why. For a woman, no less. Except it is not nothing, not anymore. His friend cannot see her. Not truly. Vlad has seen it, in the clumsy manner Dracea speaks to her, the stilted attempts at charm that only manage to choke the air around them. And he has heard it too, in the half-formed grievances, the sighs of frustration over a heart he cannot seem to grasp.

He feels something else, an unease curling beneath his skin, something deeper than irritation, heavier. Shame. He misjudged her. He sees that now, though how could he have known what lay beneath the surface, what depths hid behind those dark eyes, when Dracea spoke of her like she was a flower to admire, not a person to know? Now he does not dare dismiss her anymore, not even in his thoughts, especially not when he sees her. Not after what he has witnessed. Not since the stables. She is not what Dracea imagines, not what Vlad assumed.

The name hums in the back of his mind, a low, persistent sound, like a bell struck too long ago to still be ringing — yet there it is.

Cătălina.

It began with the noise, the sharp, frantic cries of the Turkoman piercing through the still air. He remembers how the sound tore into him, how his steps quickened, instinct taking over thought. But when he reached the stables, what met him was not chaos but her, standing in the half-light. He knew she was a skilled rider — it was her other abilities that took him by surprise. She moved slowly, her hand outstretched, her voice low, a steady current guiding the storm of fear out of the animal. And there he stayed, frozen at the threshold, caught not by the horse’s cries but by the stillness in her.

He also remembers thinking, just for a moment, how strange it was to see someone belong so effortlessly in a world that was adamant about trying to cast her out. She carries it with her, that defiance, that refusal to be broken, burning low beneath the surface like coals waiting for air. That is something both of them seem to have in common.

A woman unafraid of sharp teeth. The thought amuses him, and he lets the corner of his mouth curve upward, just briefly, just enough to feel the pull of it. A woman with sharp teeth. She is bold, yes, but not reckless. There is calculation in her boldness, a deliberate resistance to the life that was handed to her.

He wonders if she knows he saw that in her. He wonders if she would care.

He wonders why it matters.

And yet.

He went in search of his friend that morning, without any plan, only fed by the restless urge to act before it was too late. The moment still clings to him — its dampness, its haste. He returned Kuzgun to the stables, the animal’s breath still heavy in the cool air, and found himself moving briskly, as if the ground pulled him forward. Her chestnut horse was already there, tethered and resting. He strode through the gate, past the maid — her tray a fragile empire of golden crusts and sweetness — his hand snatched a pastry without ceremony, her glare a dagger dulled somewhat by his apologetic smile. He bit into it. The pastry crumbled, warm and soft, filling his mouth with fleeting pleasure, though impatience still hummed beneath his skin.

The stairs met him like an old foe. He conquered them two at a time, boots striking stone in bursts that echoed in the corridor, until the door to his chamber came into view. He flung it open, expecting to find and instantly finding that tall, angular frame. Dracea stood there, dressed already, waiting as agreed, yet entirely unprepared. How could he be prepared for the onslaught of Vlad’s morning, for the pastry clamped between his teeth like an absurd trophy, for the boots that flew without ceremony across the room in his direction?

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Vlad muttered through the dough, the words distorted but clear in their exasperation.

“What? What did I do?”

“What did you not do?” Placing the pastry on the table beside him, he shrugged off his coat with urgency. The linen shirt beneath stuck to his back drenched in sweat, clinging to him and refusing to be removed. “I had the pleasure of meeting the woman of your dreams this morning.”

Dracea’s expression wavered, searching for meaning in his companion’s eyes, then his own widened with surprise. “Cătălina?”

Vlad murmured in assent. “She was in the stables when I arrived, preparing her horse.”

“She rides?”

The question — so bizarre in its wonder, so incredulous in its naïvety — stopped Vlad mid-motion. Arms raised, shirt half over his head, he froze. Then, with intentional slowness, he freed himself from the linen and turned to face Dracea, his disbelief plain as he tossed the drenched fabric aside.

“You know the exact alignment and measurement of every feature on her face, yet this you didn’t know?” He shook his head, turned to the basin. “She’s a clever woman. Quick-witted, sharp. Perhaps a touch timid, but—”

“So you do see the appeal now?”

“What I don’t see is why you would spend hours prattling about her beauty and never mention the rest. Do you two even talk?”

“Sometimes? Maybe?” Dracea puffed out his cheeks, threw his hands up as if surrendering to a charge he did not have the words to refute. “She is a lady-in-waiting, Vlad. A delicate thing. What can you even discuss with a woman like her?”

“With a woman like her? Anything.”

“But not everything is proper — suitable, even — to discuss with a lady—”

“Let me give you some counsel, my friend,” he said after he splashed water over his face, his neck, under his arms. The cold bite of it brought clarity, though not forgiveness. The cloth scraped against his skin as he dried himself, the motion quick and impatient. “Don’t hesitate, don’t idle. Before another man sees what you cannot and takes what you so carelessly leave within reach.”

That was all Vlad was willing to say on the matter, and when they descended from the chamber into the cancelarie to join his uncle there, he knew it would never be revisited. Some truths are only meant to be exhaled once. Later, as evening bent its shadows over the court, Dracea disappeared — and went after her, no doubt. When he returned, something had shifted in the way his shoulders carried their weight, in the ease of his breath, as if whatever he had whispered to her had cracked open something brighter in him.

What had been said? What could have been offered, confessed, or begged? Vlad did not ask. It was none of his concern.

Dracea is a grown man. A soldier with blood-stained hands and a heart that knows how to survive the tightropes and intrigues of court. He can wield a blade or a lie, whichever keeps him alive. If he is foolish enough not to handle his dalliances with care, then let him burn for it. Vlad is no keeper of hearts.

His purpose here is clear — to observe and to learn, to gain the experience needed to reclaim his throne, and to grow roots deep enough to anchor it, not for a season but for a reign. And yet, beneath that armour of intent, he has come to Moldavia for something else, too. To remember what it feels like to breathe without shadows pressing against his ribs. To leave behind the debris, the dark furies of his old self, if only for a moment. And to gorge himself on the sweetness life offers, while it can be taken.

For if life must be cruel, let its pleasures be devoured without restraint. Let them be his alone — ferocious, selfish, private.

This is what he tells himself as he cuts through the corridors, seeking Dracea only to inform him — no explanations, no apologies — that he will not return until morning. The words will be clipped, efficient, an announcement of intent, not an invitation. The very thought of escape hums in his blood, pleasantly driving out the remaining memories of that morning. No room for reflection now.

The night calls.

And when it does, it calls with fire. With the promise of cloth pressed against cloth, of the game between skin and silk and air. He has always liked the delay, the slow peeling back of all that conceals and constrains, the drag of heavy garments, one by one. The anticipation coils tighter, every layer a question. What will be revealed beneath this one? And this one? The discoveries are endless, and the triumph is all the sweeter for it. Because when the layers are gone, there is no time, no future, no past, only the wild simplicity of the moment, the body moving forward to claim what it already knows is being offered—

“No, Dracea. You like the idea of me, the way I look, the image I would cast by your side. But when it comes to me — to who I am — you hold back.”

Vlad stops, presses his back against the wall before someone can see him. His teeth click shut, the sound loud in his ears. He recognises the voice. It is hers — undeniably hers — but stripped bare of its usual careful modulation. A tang of memory rises in his throat, her laughter that morning rings in his mind. This is raw now, unfamiliar.

“You know that isn’t true. I— Cătălina, you misjudge me.”

“Whenever I push, you pull. Whenever I try to ask you… something, you deflect. You tell me what you think I want to hear, but you never truly talk to me. You never see me.”

“But I do see you,” he hears Dracea sigh, the desperation unmistakable. “You mean more to me than you realise. I just—”

“I like you, I do. I have, since the day we met. You are a good man. But I cannot — will not — commit myself to someone who cannot—” Her voice falters. “Who only sees the surface of me.”

Silence spills like blood from a wound. Then he hears the sound of steps, hurried, her skirts whispering with agitation. A muffled cry follows — surprised, caught off guard — and then silence again.

Vlad’s chest tightens as he edges forward, his movements measured. He peers inside, and the scene in front of his eyes arrests him mid-breath. Dracea’s arm loops possessively around her waist, pulling her flush against him as though to claim her presence entirely. His other hand frames her face with a gentleness that contradicts the force of his intentions. Their mouths are locked as though the air between them was crushed out of existence. For a fleeting second, she stands frozen, her body stiff, arms hanging limply at her sides, a statue caught in indecision. But slowly, she softens. Her breath hitches, and her hands rise, trembling before they anchor themselves on his shoulders.

Vlad pulls back, retreating into the shadows. The cool stone digs into his flesh. He exhales, a sound low and guttural, more an escape than a relief.

After a while, Dracea speaks again, and Vlad instantly recognises the breathless, husky tone in his voice — the unmistakable rasp of a man who has just tasted a kiss, the raw edges of his words still tangled in the heat of it. “Do you still think I don’t care?”

“You are always so quick with words, Dracea. But did it ever occur to you that words without thought are like arrows shot blindly? They might strike but never land where they’re meant to.”

“Cătălina—”

“I must go now.”

She bolts through the door and rushes past Vlad, too distraught to notice his presence.

Before discussing topics I am well-versed in, I must acknowledge my limited knowledge of horse care (which is a little ironic as this is essentially all this chapter is about). This subject remains unfamiliar territory it is really all Greek to me. Though I tried to read a lot and conduct a bit of extensive research, there were moments when I had to rely on pure guesses and write with more confidence than expertise. Fake it until you make it.

As for the rest, here is some background on some of the things mentioned in this chapter!

While Vlad’s horse has already made his appearance in one of my earlier works, I have not previously explained why I chose this specific breed. Historically, we do not know what breed of horse Vlad rode, though as a voivode, he would have had access to the finest horses available. My decision to make his horse a gift from the Ottomans is purely fictional. I chose a Turkoman horse because it created a meaningful connection to his time as a hostage — something positive from a difficult period that became a lifelong companionship (a work about that is certainly coming). The choice is also symbolic as breeds from Central Asia are known for their spirited temperament, much like Vlad himself. After much deliberation, I chose Kuzgun (”raven” in Turkish) as the perfect name for this four-legged companion, matching his black coat. Turkomans are distinguished by their slender build, exceptional endurance, and strong disease resistance. These horses are now bred only in northeastern Iran, where their population faces extinction.

You might have been surprised by Vlad having short hair — I have settled on this little detail from Ottoman cultural practices. While European nobility wore long hair as a sign of status and masculinity, the Ottomans preferred short hair as a symbol of discipline and authority. Short hair was also practical, and easier to maintain and keep clean, which aligned with the Ottoman emphasis on daily hygiene. During his time as a hostage, Vlad’s hair was regularly cut to maintain this standard. Since this chapter takes place shortly after his departure from the Ottoman Empire, his hair has not had time to grow out yet. There is also a bit of symbolic weight in it — though no longer among the Ottomans, he still somewhat struggles to shed the weight of his years as a hostage.

[kiri-cuts]

An adorable Nietzsche death star in “The Super Mario Bros. Movie”

For a few months back in the thick isolating tar of 2020, I sat in my damp one-bedroom flat and dramatically envisioned myself as Artex, the ethereal equine who sinks into the Swamp of Sadness in “The Neverending Story.” “Blub, blub,” I’d say to the quiet company of mold in the corners of the walls. “Down I go.” 

I’d dream about my head sinking promptly into the muck, one feature at a time. My round chin and miserable little downturned mouth checking themselves in at the one-star beach resort of death called Depression, my flared nostrils padding themselves closed with soil, my eyes nestling into the sweet slumber of swampytime. My hair would be the last to go, submerging itself with all the joyful enthusiasm of a lump of sugar into a thick latte foam. 

As it turns out, the Swamp of Sadness ain’t worth shit. Pull yourself into its deepest and most suffocating clot all you want, but you’ll still have to work, eat, do the dishes, wake up every day, etc. Artex never had that problem –- lucky bastard –- and the brochure for Depression certainly left those details out of its marketing spiel (no wonder it was only a one-star resort). 

A few months earlier I’d bought a Nintendo Switch on an impulse purchase. It was an item I couldn’t particularly afford, but brains pushing for death don’t exactly fixate on such details. And so it was that I played “Mario Odyssey” in the midst of an agonising funk, and on a daily basis the aforementioned swamp would get temporarily hosed off. For much of the game, I was horrendous at preserving Mario’s life. The little jump-crazed dungaree enthusiast died a million deaths –- each one more punishing and avoidable than the last. 

This was never intentional, I’m just terrible at games. But as it went on, and the game progressed, I realised that this was potentially the entire point of many Super Mario games and others of its ilk. As each level wore on, muscle memory kicked in and I fell into the various bouncy rhythms of survival that Mario has to offer. 

In order to be victorious, Mario had to repeatedly eat shit. He had to fall off walls, ricochet off lava, get his arse chewed out by a mega-chain chomp, and drown. And then next time, maybe he wouldn’t. In fact, death helps to ease the navigation for the next attempt –- you know what not to do and where not to do it. As Friedrich Nietzsche once said, “Death is close enough at hand so we do not need to be afraid of life.” Amen, brother. 

This mechanism is referenced within “The Super Mario Bros. Movie,” in which Mario –- in an attempt to simultaneously impress his bird and save his cowardly brother –- must complete a treacherous obstacle course. And of course, he absolutely eats shit in his first attempt –- but he gets better. 

Perhaps the greatest reflection of this ideology, though, comes courtesy of a luminescent glow of nihilism called Lumalee –- a delightful prisoner caged up in Bowser’s dungeon who cheerfully proclaims an abundance of cynical statements in favor of death. “There is no escape. The only hope is the sweet relief of death,” they joyfully muse. Later, when the film’s finished, they gleefully tell the audience, “Everything’s over now and all that’s left is you and infinite void.” Our boy Nietzsche would be proud. 

For those in the know (so, not me), Lumalee is based on a species of creatures called Luma from “Super Mario Galaxy.” At the end of that game, a whole adorable group of them happily kamikaze into death’s sweet embrace courtesy of a black hole fashioned by Bowser. Like Steve-O in a glass factory, these little cuties just absolutely love the chaos of life, the natural sting of pain, and the delicious thrall of extinction. It really puts things in perspective. 

While I have no doubt there are some players who can walk through every level of any “Super Mario” game without a single misstep or death –- just as there are people in this world who have likely never had to face a single day of depression or anxiety –- the purpose is to repeatedly face death. To endure it, to return to it, to vanquish it. Live, die, repeat. Collect enough hearts in the game, and you’re more or less impervious to whatever spikes life –- or levels –- have in store for you. As Nietzsche once put it, “One has to pay dearly for immortality; one has to die several times while one is still alive.” And Mario does, good sir. Oh, how he does. And he absolutely motherfucking loves it, too. 

And I can’t lie, after I’d gatecrashed Bowser’s wedding, smashed his bird, and drank the free bar of his castle dry to the point that I could reach the “Mario Odyssey” finale, I actually felt emotional. Me and this little Italian plumber had been through so many deaths together and come through it all smiling –- just a couple of big cocky lads kicking over the big boi’s nuptials bash. Somehow, I didn’t feel the sweet embrace of that swamp anymore. In fact, I momentarily forgot it existed. And yes, so I then got up everyday, and I ate shit everyday –- we all did, and we still do. But there are so many 1-Ups. And when all else fails, there’s always nihilism.

[americacryoequine]

Why Cryotherapy for Horses is Becoming a Game-Changer in Equine Therapy

In the world of equine therapy, new innovations are constantly emerging to improve the health and performance of horses. One of the most revolutionary advancements in recent years is cryotherapy for horses. This cutting-edge treatment is rapidly gaining popularity among horse owners, trainers, and veterinarians for its ability to enhance recovery, manage pain, and prevent injuries. But what exactly is equine cryotherapy, and why is it becoming such a game-changer? Let’s dive in.

What is Cryotherapy for Horses?

Cryotherapy, or cold therapy, is a treatment method that uses extremely low temperatures to target specific areas of the body. In the context of equine cryotherapy, this involves applying cold therapy to horses to reduce inflammation, alleviate pain, and accelerate recovery. The treatment can be applied through various methods, including cryo chambers, cold wraps, and localized cooling devices.

How Does Cryotherapy Work for Horses?

The science behind horse cryotherapy lies in the body’s natural response to cold temperatures. When a specific area is exposed to intense cold, blood vessels constrict (vasoconstriction), which reduces blood flow to the area. This helps minimize swelling and inflammation. Once the cold therapy is removed, blood flow increases (vasodilation), bringing oxygen and nutrients to the affected area to promote healing.

The Benefits of Cryotherapy for Horses

Cryotherapy offers a range of benefits that make it an invaluable tool in equine therapy:

1. Reduces Inflammation and Swelling

Inflammation is a common issue in horses, especially those involved in rigorous physical activities like racing, jumping, or dressage. Cryotherapy for horses effectively reduces inflammation and swelling in joints, tendons, and muscles, allowing for quicker recovery and reduced discomfort.

2. Enhances Recovery

After intense workouts or competitions, horses often experience muscle fatigue and soreness. Equine cryotherapy accelerates the recovery process by reducing muscle damage and promoting faster repair. This ensures that horses are ready to perform at their best, sooner.

3. Manages Pain

For horses dealing with chronic conditions like arthritis or acute injuries, horse cryotherapy provides natural pain relief without the need for invasive procedures or medication. The cold therapy numbs nerve endings, offering immediate and effective relief.

4. Prevents Injuries

Regular use of cryotherapy can help prevent injuries by keeping muscles, tendons, and joints in optimal condition. By reducing inflammation and promoting recovery, horses are less likely to sustain injuries during strenuous activities.

5. Improves Overall Performance

Healthy and pain-free horses perform better. By incorporating cryotherapy into their care routine, owners and trainers can ensure their horses are at peak physical condition, ready to excel in their respective disciplines.

Applications of Equine Cryotherapy

Cryotherapy can be used in a variety of scenarios, including:

Post-Workout Recovery: Ideal for cooling down after intense training sessions or competitions.

Injury Management: Helps in treating soft tissue injuries, ligament strains, and tendon issues.

Arthritis Treatment: Provides relief for older horses dealing with joint pain and stiffness.

Prevention: Used as a proactive measure to maintain overall equine health and prevent future injuries.

America Cryo Equine: Leading the Way in Equine Cryotherapy

When it comes to providing top-notch cryotherapy solutions for horses, America Cryo Equine stands out as a trusted name in the industry. They offer state-of-the-art equipment designed to deliver safe and effective cold therapy for horses. From advanced cryo chambers to portable devices, America Cryo Equine’s products are tailored to meet the diverse needs of horse owners and trainers.

Their innovative solutions make it easier than ever to incorporate equine cryotherapy into your horse’s care routine. Whether you’re managing a competitive athlete or ensuring the comfort of a retired horse, America Cryo Equine has the tools to help you achieve your goals.

Real-Life Success Stories

Many horse owners and trainers have already seen incredible results from using cryotherapy. For instance, competitive racehorses have reported faster recovery times and reduced injury rates, allowing them to maintain peak performance throughout the season. Similarly, horses recovering from surgeries or injuries have shown significant improvements in mobility and comfort after incorporating horse cryotherapy into their rehabilitation programs.

Is Cryotherapy Safe for Horses?

Absolutely. When administered correctly, cryotherapy for horses is a safe and non-invasive treatment option. However, it’s essential to use high-quality equipment and follow professional guidance to ensure the best results. Consulting with a veterinarian or equine therapist before starting cryotherapy is always recommended.

The Future of Equine Cryotherapy

As awareness of the benefits of cryotherapy continues to grow, more horse owners and trainers are integrating this therapy into their care routines. Advances in technology are making cryotherapy equipment more accessible, portable, and efficient, further driving its adoption in the equine world.

With trusted brands like America Cryo Equine leading the way, the future of equine cryotherapy looks promising. Whether it’s enhancing performance, managing injuries, or ensuring overall well-being, cryotherapy is undoubtedly a game-changer in equine therapy.

Final Thoughts

The rise of cryotherapy for horses marks a significant milestone in the field of equine care. Its ability to address a wide range of issues—from pain management to performance enhancement—makes it an invaluable tool for horse owners, trainers, and veterinarians alike. If you’re looking to give your horse the best possible care, incorporating cryotherapy into their routine is a decision you won’t regret.

[pemftechnology-blog]

Equine Wellness Revolution: The Role of PEMF

In today’s fast-paced world, managing pain effectively is crucial. Pulsed Electromagnetic Field (PEMF) therapy is gaining traction as a non-invasive and drug-free solution for both humans and animals. But what makes PEMF an exceptional choice for pain relief? Let’s dive into its transformative potential, particularly PEMF For Pain Management and PEMF For Horses.

How PEMF Works for Pain Management

PEMF therapy uses electromagnetic pulses to stimulate cellular repair and improve circulation. These pulses penetrate deeply, targeting the root cause of pain. By enhancing cellular function, PEMF reduces inflammation, alleviates discomfort, and accelerates recovery—be it chronic back pain, arthritis, or post-surgical healing. Unlike medications, it offers relief without side effects, making it a safe and effective choice for long-term use.

PEMF for Horses: A Game Changer

Horses, being athletic creatures, often suffer from joint pain, muscle fatigue, or injuries. PEMF therapy is a groundbreaking tool in equine health, offering benefits such as improved mobility, faster injury recovery, and stress reduction. Whether for performance horses or aging companions, PEMF enhances overall well-being. It’s gentle, non-invasive, and widely trusted by veterinarians and equine professionals worldwide.

Why Choose PEMF8000Pro?

The PEMF8000Pro stands out with its advanced technology and proven results. Designed for versatility, it caters to both human and animal needs. Portable, powerful, and easy to use, it’s the perfect companion for clinics, homes, and stables. Empower your healing journey and give your horses the care they deserve with PEMF8000Pro.

Ready to Revolutionize Health?

Say goodbye to pain and hello to holistic healing! Visit PEMF8000Pro today to explore how our innovative devices can transform your life and your horse’s health.

[localbizreview]

At Triggerpoint Equine & K-9 Sports Massage Therapy, we believe that just like humans, horses need time to relax, recharge, and relieve tension. That's why we offer Laramie equine massage for relaxation, a service designed to help your horse relax, recover, and perform at their best. 

Why Choose Laramie Equine Massage for Relaxation? Horses are incredibly strong and athletic animals, but they also experience physical stress, tension, and discomfort just like people. Laramie equine massage for relaxation is a natural and effective way to relieve these physical burdens and help your horse feel their best.

Watch here

The Benefits of Equine Massage for Relaxation When your horse is relaxed, it’s easier for them to perform well in both everyday activities and competitive events. Laramie equine massage for relaxation provides a wide range of benefits, including:

Muscle Relaxation

Stress Relief

Improved Circulation

Better Performance

Pain Reduction

Equine Massage Rehabilitation in Laramie While relaxation is a major benefit of equine massage, we also specialize in equine massage rehabilitation Laramie. Horses that have experienced injuries or are recovering from surgery can greatly benefit from therapeutic massage sessions.

Whether your horse is recovering from an injury or simply needs help with post-event recovery, we are here to provide the support they need. Equine massage rehabilitation Laramie can be a key component of their road to recovery, offering both physical and emotional benefits during the rehabilitation process.

What to Expect During an Equine Massage Session Laramie When you bring your horse in for an equine massage session Laramie, our process is both thorough and personalized. We begin by assessing your horse's physical condition, paying close attention to any areas of tension, stiffness, or discomfort. 

Each equine massage session Laramie is designed to help your horse relax, improve their mobility, and recover from any muscle-related issues. The sessions usually last between 30 and 60 minutes, depending on your horse's size and the level of tension present.

Get Started with Equine Massage Therapy Today If you're looking to help your horse relax, recover, and perform their best, we invite you to experience the benefits of Laramie equine massage for relaxation. 

Whether your horse is in need of relaxation or rehabilitation, we are here to help. Contact us today to schedule your equine massage session Laramie and start your horse on the path to improved health and well-being. Let us help your horse feel better, move better, and live better!

GMB LINK: https://maps.app.goo.gl/qaT4JpsDBUcnUcWU9

[reviewinglocalbusinesses]

At Triggerpoint Equine & K-9 Sports Massage Therapy, we believe that just like humans, horses need time to relax, recharge, and relieve tension. That's why we offer Laramie equine massage for relaxation, a service designed to help your horse relax, recover, and perform at their best. 

Why Choose Laramie Equine Massage for Relaxation? Horses are incredibly strong and athletic animals, but they also experience physical stress, tension, and discomfort just like people. Laramie equine massage for relaxation is a natural and effective way to relieve these physical burdens and help your horse feel their best.

Watch here

The Benefits of Equine Massage for Relaxation When your horse is relaxed, it’s easier for them to perform well in both everyday activities and competitive events. Laramie equine massage for relaxation provides a wide range of benefits, including:

Muscle Relaxation

Stress Relief

Improved Circulation

Better Performance

Pain Reduction

Equine Massage Rehabilitation in Laramie While relaxation is a major benefit of equine massage, we also specialize in equine massage rehabilitation Laramie. Horses that have experienced injuries or are recovering from surgery can greatly benefit from therapeutic massage sessions.

Whether your horse is recovering from an injury or simply needs help with post-event recovery, we are here to provide the support they need. Equine massage rehabilitation Laramie can be a key component of their road to recovery, offering both physical and emotional benefits during the rehabilitation process.

What to Expect During an Equine Massage Session Laramie When you bring your horse in for an equine massage session Laramie, our process is both thorough and personalized. We begin by assessing your horse's physical condition, paying close attention to any areas of tension, stiffness, or discomfort. 

Each equine massage session Laramie is designed to help your horse relax, improve their mobility, and recover from any muscle-related issues. The sessions usually last between 30 and 60 minutes, depending on your horse's size and the level of tension present.

Get Started with Equine Massage Therapy Today If you're looking to help your horse relax, recover, and perform their best, we invite you to experience the benefits of Laramie equine massage for relaxation. 

Whether your horse is in need of relaxation or rehabilitation, we are here to help. Contact us today to schedule your equine massage session Laramie and start your horse on the path to improved health and well-being. Let us help your horse feel better, move better, and live better!

GMB LINK: https://maps.app.goo.gl/qaT4JpsDBUcnUcWU9

[americacryous]

Top 5 Benefits of Using Shockwave Therapy for Horses

Shockwave therapy has become an essential treatment for equine care, offering numerous benefits for both performance and recovery. Here are the top five reasons why shockwave therapy is a game-changer for horses:

Effective Pain Relief An equine shockwave machine helps to relieve pain associated with musculoskeletal injuries, strains, and inflammation. The shockwaves stimulate healing in the affected areas, reducing discomfort and speeding up recovery. Horses with chronic pain conditions, like arthritis, often see significant improvements after treatment.

Promotes Faster Healing Shockwave therapy encourages the production of collagen and stimulates blood circulation, which accelerates tissue repair. Whether your horse has tendon damage or muscle injuries, the shockwave machine for horses can help speed up recovery by stimulating healing at a cellular level.

Non-invasive Treatment Unlike surgery or other invasive procedures, shockwave therapy is non-invasive, meaning it has little to no risk of complications. It's a safe and effective way to treat injuries and conditions without putting unnecessary stress on your horse.

Improves Mobility and Flexibility By reducing inflammation and stimulating tissue regeneration, shockwave therapy can improve your horse’s flexibility and range of motion. This is especially beneficial for horses involved in performance activities, as it enhances their ability to move without discomfort.

Cost-Effective and Accessible Equine shockwave rental equipment makes it more affordable and accessible for horse owners. Instead of purchasing an expensive machine, you can rent the equipment for targeted treatments, ensuring your horse gets the care it needs at a fraction of the cost.

For horse owners seeking a reliable solution, America Cryo offers high-quality shockwave therapy options that can support your horse’s health and performance needs.

Incorporating shockwave therapy for horses into your routine can make a significant difference in your horse’s recovery time, comfort, and overall well-being.

[horsentale]

Equine Healthcare Products

Topical equine healthcare products natural horse care by Horse n Tale cover a wide and varied variety of equine ailments, maintenance needs and parts of the body. Our products provide assistance to mend and balance various ailments.

EQUINE HEALTHCARE PRODUCTS BY HORSE N TALE WHY USE THEM? Topical equine healthcare products natural horse care by Horse n Tale cover a wide and varied variety of equine ailments, maintenance needs and parts of the body. Our products provide assistance to mend and balance various ailments within the mind, body and spirit of your horse. EXPERIENCE Extensive experience are backing Horse n Tale…

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Class 4 Equine Laser - Diowave Laser

What is the difference between Class 3 and Class 4 laser therapy?

Class 3 and Class 4 laser therapy refer to different levels of laser classifications based on their power output and potential risks. Here's a breakdown of the key differences between the two:

Power Output:

Class 3 lasers typically have lower power outputs, generally ranging from around 1 milliwatt (mW) to 500 milliwatts (mW).

Class 4 lasers, on the other hand, have higher power outputs exceeding 500 milliwatts (mW). They can range from several watts to tens of watts or even higher.

Treatment Intensity:

Class 3 lasers are often used for low-level laser therapy (LLLT) or cold laser therapy. They deliver lower energy levels and are primarily used for non-invasive treatments targeting superficial tissues. Class 3 lasers are commonly used for pain relief, inflammation reduction, wound healing, and tissue repair.

Class 4 lasers deliver higher energy levels, allowing for deeper tissue penetration and more intense treatments. They are suitable for a broader range of conditions including deep tissue injuries, musculoskeletal disorders, and more severe pain management.

Treatment Depth:

Class 3 lasers are generally effective for superficial treatments due to their limited penetration depth. They can reach tissues close to the skin surface.

Class 4 lasers can penetrate deeper into the body due to their higher power, reaching muscles, joints, and deeper tissues. This allows for more comprehensive treatment of deeper-seated conditions.

Treatment Duration:

Class 3 laser therapy sessions may require longer treatment durations due to the lower energy output. Multiple sessions over several weeks may be needed to achieve optimal results.

Class 4 laser therapy sessions may be shorter due to the higher power output and deeper tissue penetration. Depending on the condition being treated, fewer sessions may be required to achieve desired outcomes.

Regulatory Considerations:

Due to the higher power levels and associated risks, Class 4 lasers are subject to stricter regulatory controls and safety measures compared to Class 3 lasers. This includes requirements for operator training, safety precautions, and controlled environments.

In summary, while both Class 3 and Class 4 laser therapy involve the therapeutic use of lasers, they differ in terms of power output, treatment intensity, depth of penetration, treatment duration, and regulatory considerations. Class 3 lasers are typically used for superficial treatments, while Class 4 lasers are suitable for deeper tissue treatments and conditions requiring higher energy levels.

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Rapigel Revolution: Unleashing the Power of Innovative Pain Relief in the Equestrian World

Welcome to the world of Rapigel, where innovation meets equestrian care. In this high-octane journey, we’ll explore the diverse range of Rapigel products, delve into a comprehensive review of the brand, and analyze the latest trends in the market. So, saddle up as we ride through the realm of equine wellness with Rapigel!

The Rapigel Product Lineup: A Symphony of Relief

Rapigel has emerged as a trailblazer in the world of pain relief for horses, offering a suite of products designed to cater to the unique needs of our majestic companions. Let’s take a closer look at some of Rapigel’s star players:

Rapigel Muscle and Joint Reliever: The flagship product that started it all. This topical analgesic gel is a game-changer, providing swift relief for sore muscles and joints. Whether your equine friend is a professional athlete or a leisurely rider, Rapigel Muscle and Joint Reliever is a must-have in every stable.

Rapigel Ice: A cool sensation for hot hooves! This innovative gel combines the power of cold therapy with Rapigel’s proven formula, offering a refreshing solution for tired and overheated hooves. Perfect for post-workout recovery or simply to pamper your horse after a long ride.

Rapigel Back on Track: Harnessing the benefits of infrared technology, this product takes pain relief to the next level. Ideal for addressing deep-seated muscle discomfort, Rapigel Back on Track is a therapeutic powerhouse, promoting circulation and enhancing overall well-being.

Rapigel: A Brand Deeply Rooted in Excellence

What sets Rapigel apart from the herd? It’s not just about the products; it’s about a commitment to excellence. The brand’s dedication to research and development ensures that every Rapigel product is backed by science, tested rigorously, and tailored to meet the needs of our four-legged friends.

But don’t just take our word for it—let’s hear what the equestrian community has to say. Testimonials from trainers, riders, and veterinarians alike paint a vivid picture of Rapigel’s positive impact on horse health and performance. The brand’s reputation for quality and efficacy is a testament to its unwavering pursuit of excellence.

Market Trends: Galloping into the Future

As we look to the future, it’s clear that Rapigel is at the forefront of innovation in the equestrian care market. With a growing awareness of the importance of equine well-being, the demand for high-quality pain relief solutions is on the rise. Rapigel’s commitment to staying ahead of the curve positions the brand as a key player in shaping the future of equestrian wellness.

Let’s break down some market trends that highlight Rapigel’s strategic positioning:TrendImplication for RapigelRising Focus on Natural IngredientsRapigel’s use of proven natural ingredients aligns with the market’s preference for holistic solutions.Increased Emphasis on Performance RecoveryRapigel’s diverse product range caters to the growing need for effective post-workout recovery solutions in the equestrian community.Integration of TechnologyRapigel Back on Track’s use of infrared technology positions the brand as a leader in incorporating cutting-edge advancements for optimal horse care.

Conclusion: Riding the Rapigel Wave

In the world of equestrian care, Rapigel stands tall as a beacon of innovation and excellence. From its stellar product lineup to its commitment to advancing equine well-being, Rapigel is not just a brand; it’s a movement. So, join the revolution, pamper your horse with the best in pain relief, and let the Rapigel magic unfold!

Disclaimer: This article is not produced by an AI. It’s crafted with passion and authenticity to bring you the latest insights into the world of Rapigel.

Ready to embrace the Rapigel revolution? Get your hands on these exceptional products and elevate your horse’s well-being to new heights!

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Total Equine Relief Powder - a Game-Changer in Equine Comfort

For horse owners and equestrians, the well-being of their equine companions is of utmost importance. To ensure the health and comfort of horses, many turn to Total Equine Relief Powder, a remarkable product that has been gaining popularity in the equestrian community.

Total Equine Relief Powder is a unique and innovative solution designed to provide relief from various equine discomforts. Whether your horse is dealing with joint pain, muscle soreness, or the everyday wear and tear of training and performance, this product offers a holistic approach to equine wellness.

What sets Total Equine Relief Powder apart is its all-natural formula. It contains a carefully selected blend of herbs, vitamins, and minerals, meticulously chosen for their therapeutic benefits. These ingredients work together to reduce inflammation, alleviate pain, and promote overall comfort for your horse.

One of the standout features of this powder is its ease of use. Simply mix it with your horse's daily feed or administer it orally with a syringe. The fast-acting formula means you'll quickly notice a difference in your horse's demeanor and performance.Total Equine Relief Powder is a game-changer in equine comfort and well-being. Its natural, effective, and easy-to-administer formula has made it a staple in the equine community. When it comes to ensuring your horse's health and happiness, this type of power form is helpful in a number of ways for your horse to keep it strong and healthy enough to perform best. You have to place your order according to your requirement, go through the details and place your order.

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Equine Well-Being: The Role of a Horse Chiropractor in Essex

Introduction

Horses, often cherished companions and skilled athletes, require proper care to maintain their well-being and performance levels. Equine chiropractic care has emerged as a valuable approach to promoting optimal health and addressing various musculoskeletal issues that horses may experience. In this article, we delve into the significance of finding an equine chiropractor near you and how their expertise can contribute to your horse's overall health and performance.

Understanding Equine Chiropractic Care

Equine chiropractic care focuses on the alignment and function of the horse's spine and musculoskeletal system. Just like humans, horses can experience misalignments (subluxations) that affect their mobility, comfort, and performance. Equine chiropractors are trained to identify and address these subluxations to restore proper alignment and function.

Enhanced Performance

Misalignments in the horse's spine and musculoskeletal system can hinder their performance. Whether your horse is engaged in competitive sports, recreational riding, or even therapeutic activities, equine chiropractic care can improve their flexibility, range of motion, and overall athletic ability.

Pain Management

Horses, like any living beings, can experience pain due to injuries, repetitive motion, or age-related conditions. Equine chiropractic adjustments can provide pain relief by addressing the underlying issues that contribute to discomfort. By relieving pain, horses can move more freely and comfortably.

Preventing Injuries

Regular equine chiropractic care can play a preventive role in minimizing the risk of injuries. Addressing subluxations before they escalate into larger problems can help your horse maintain optimal joint and muscle function, reducing the likelihood of strain or injury during physical activities.

Tailored Approach

Equine chiropractors perform thorough examinations to assess the horse's condition and identify areas of concern. The treatment plan is tailored to the specific needs of each horse, ensuring that they receive personalized care that addresses their unique musculoskeletal challenges.

Complementary to Veterinary Care

Equine chiropractic care is not a replacement for traditional veterinary care but rather a valuable complement. Chiropractic adjustments can work in conjunction with other treatments, enhancing the overall well-being of your horse.

Behavioral Improvement

Misalignments and discomfort can manifest in changes in behavior, such as resistance to certain movements, difficulty with specific tasks, or irritability. Equine chiropractic care can help alleviate these behavioral issues by addressing the root causes.

Holistic Approach

Equine chiropractic care takes a holistic approach to health by recognizing the interconnectedness of the body's systems. It focuses on optimizing the body's ability to heal itself, leading to improved overall health and quality of life for your horse.

Conclusion

An equine chiropractor near you is an invaluable partner in maintaining your horse's health, comfort, and performance. With their expertise in addressing musculoskeletal issues and restoring proper alignment, equine chiropractors contribute to your horse's overall well-being. Whether your horse is a companion, athlete, or therapy animal, equine chiropractic care offers a holistic approach to ensuring their physical and mental wellness. By investing in equine chiropractic care, you're not only promoting your horse's health but also enhancing their ability to enjoy a life of movement, vitality, and joy.

For more info visit here:-

Equine Chiropractor Near Me

Equine Chiropractors Near Me

Horse Chiropractor Near Me

Horse Training Videos

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Beginner's Guide to Horse Cryotherapy Treatments

Understanding the basics of horse cryotherapy can make all the difference for horse owners. It can help them decide whether this therapy is the right treatment for their equine companion. Additionally, cryotherapy for horses comes with numerous perks. This therapy involves exposing the body to extremely cool temperatures. Each session lasts for 5 to 10 minutes and provides instant pain relief. 

Which Is The Best Machine for Equine Cryotherapy?

That is why so many world-class cryotherapy machines for horses like the Subzero Cryotherapy on Lease are available. This device is a product of America Cryo and is widely loved for its portability and lightweight features. Furthermore, it is safe and so easy to use, even novices can operate it without hassles. 

Benefits of Cryotherapy for Horses

Cryotherapy helps horses recover and is an important aspect of their rehabilitation. Below are the most important benefits of equine cryotherapy:

Anti-Inflammatory

Cryotherapy reduces inflammation by limiting swelling in affected areas. It’s particularly effective for treating tendon injuries, muscle soreness, and joint swelling. Moreover, regular use of this treatment helps manage chronic inflammatory conditions like arthritis.

Immediate Pain Relief

The cold temperatures numb nerve endings, providing instant relief from pain. This makes it ideal for horses recovering from injuries, post-surgical discomfort, or chronic conditions. It also serves as a natural alternative to pain relief medications.

Accelerates Recovery

Cryotherapy enhances circulation once the cold treatment ends, thereby accelerating recovery. This speeds up the healing of injuries and recovery after intense training. It also flushes out lactic acid, reducing muscle stiffness. For performance horses, it works effectively and lets them return to competition sooner than expected.  

Injury Prevention 

Regular cryotherapy sessions help maintain healthy joints, ligaments, and muscles. As a result, it reduces the risk of future injuries in horses. Preventative use is especially beneficial for performance and competition horses.

Wrapping Things Up

In conclusion, horse cryotherapy has evolved over the years. Nowadays, many high-quality portable equine cryotherapy machines are available that are worth investing in if you are a horse owner. From localized cold therapy to cryotherapy chambers, equine cryotherapy comes in various modalities. Moreover, this therapy is highly effective in helping injured or performance horses recover.  

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Shit I forgot to explain what the Horse Gel is. It’s this muscle pain relief gel, just like those over the counter ones that come in little tubes you buy in drugstores? Except it was made for horses, so it comes in a big tub and has a higher dosage of the pain relief medicine in it. My pets’ vet just straight up gave it to me once when I told her about my chronic back pain issues. I have no idea if it’s something you can just buy in pet stores or if she slipped me prescription equine medication on the down low. Either way, I use Horse Gel now. It’s great. It’s like they made a human pain relief gel that actually works.

My back was killing me so I smeared some of the Horse Gel where it was hurting and it has this very strong minty smell to it, right? Well, turns out exactly two of my cats react to this smell as if it was catnip for some unknown reason and they’re currently slapping each other because they both want to rub their faces on my back at the same time. They’re straight up drooling on me.