#you know when the horse's body is chestnut but the mane and tail are black for some reason like the artist just didn't care

[tearlessrain]

well the screenshot function suddenly started working for me with RDO so that's something you're all gonna have to deal with now

[theprissythumbelina]

So You Want to Write about Horses: Color Edition

Well, your knight better not be riding in on a white horse, because that horse is actually grey! And what do you mean a brown horse? Is your cowboy's faithful horse sorrel or chestnut and what does it matter?

I can help.

(Part 4! Enjoy this post? Want to know more? Check out So You Want To Write About Horses Part 1 and Part 2 and So You Want To Write About Horses: Medieval Edition)

Lets begin with base horse colors:

This is fairly easy. All horses are either red-based or black-based. The other colors of horses are all modifications on these two basic variations. A plain red-based horse is a chestnut horse. If you live West of the Mississippi river, you would call this horse a sorrel. Same thing.

A plain black-based horse is a black horse.

Easy, right?

Genetically speaking, the choice between a black or a chestnut is controlled by the Extension gene, represented as E/e. A black horse is created when the genetics are either EE or Ee, as the Extension gene is dominant. A chestnut horse can only be ee, the regressive form with no black hair expression.

However, black horses are actually not that common, relatively speaking. Most horses are some form of chestnut, ee, or a bay.

The bay horse is a variation on a black base. They have black manes and tails, black on their legs, and red or brown bodies. A bay horse is created by the Agouti gene (A/a), which changes the expression of the Extension gene (E/e). So a horse with EE AA will be a bay horse, like above. A horse with Ee Aa will also be a bay horse, exactly the same. In order for a horse to be black, they must have a dominant Extension gene and a regressive Agouti gene, EE aa or Ee aa.

Chestnut horses have no black in their coat, so the Agouti gene cannot affect them. They can be carriers, however, and make a bay horse when paired with a black horse. A chestnut horse could be ee aa, ee Aa, or ee AA, and look completely the same.

Congradulations, you now know horse color genetics! Now for the fun ones.

Dun Genes

If you've ever seen Spirit, Stallion of the Cimarron, you know this color

^This is the actual colt that Dreamworks animators modeled from!

Dun (D/nd1/nd2) is a gene that modifies all base coat colors. It can modify black, creating a black dun/grullo horse, it can modify bay, creating a bay dun, and it can modify chestnut, creating a red dun. In all of these variations, the body of the horse is lightened, the mane, tail, and legs are dark, and the horse has 'primitive' markings, including an eel stripe down the back, darker face, and leg bars.

If you notice, dun has three variations! D is the dominant form, so any horse with D is a dun of some kind. Nd1 is a variant in the same gene that gives the horse similar markings, but it is not dun, and will be over powered by the dominant D version. Nd2 is a horse with no dun factor, so no markings or lighter coat. Dun horses can be D/D, D/nd2, D/nd1. A horse with non-dun factor (and look similar to a dun) can be nd1/nd1 or nd1/nd2. A bay, black, or chestnut horse will be nd2/nd2.

Cream Gene

Another gene diluting color is the cream gene, which you may know from the famous horse of Roy Rogers, Trigger

Trigger is a beautiful example of a palomino, a red-based cream dilute. As you can see, Trigger has a pale mane and tale and a gold colored body. Cream (Cr/Prl/-) is a dilution gene, or a hypomelanism gene, meaning it prevents red color in horse hair. Any red on a horse will be lightened. Chestnut horses, being all red, will have their entire bodies, mane, and tail lightened. Bay horses, with red hair only on their bodies, will have the body lightened, but the black mane, tail, and legs stay black, creating a buckskin horse

But wait! That horse looks exactly like the bay dun horse! Yes. Yes they do. However, buckskins do not have eel stripes, leg bars, or darker heads, and are a completely different gene. In fact, you can mix the two get a cream dun (Dunskin). It might be a slightly lighter dun.

Because a black horse has no red, black horses with the Cream dilute stay black, IF they have only one version (Ee aa Cr). Cream is an incomplete dominant gene, meaning that two versions makes the effect of the gene even stronger. Double creme dilutes are Cremellos, and they are very pale (but not white!)

The double creme dilute overrides all the other genes. They are still there, but the horse is so pale, you can't see them. A variation of this color is the perlino, a horse with a recessive dilute gene called Pearl (Prl/-)

Pearl is recessive, meaning that one copy does not change the horse's coat. Two copies creates the perlino, and because Pearl is on the same gene as Cream, a false cremello can be created by a horse with one cream gene and one pearl gene. Crazy, right?

Now, there are so many more genes, but lets skip ahead to some patterns.

Horse Patterns

These are technically not colors, but rather genes that selectively turn off color in certain areas to create a coat pattern in horses. The most important of these are Tobiano, Frame, and Appaloosa genes.

Tobiano is the gene for the coats of Paint horses (a color breed with a registry) and one of the genes for pinto horses. Pinto means any horse with large splashes of white, which includes the Frame gene, also known as Overo.

Both of these horses are Pintos, but only the lower one is an American Paint Horse, or Paint, and the top one has the Tobiano gene (TO), while the bottom has the Frame gene (O). A horse can be double Tobiano (TO/TO), Tobiano and Frame (known as Tovero) (TO/O), but a double Frame horse will die an early and painful death, due to Lethal White Factor.

Lethal White Overo is when two Frame horses are bred together and the foal receives the O gene from both parents. The foal can survive birth, but has malformations of the intestines that are incompatable with life. ALL affected horses die within days of birth.

Appaloosa horses are a very interesting horse. Technically, Appaloosa refers to a breed, developed by the Nez Perce tribe in the Pacific Northwest. Appaloosa is thought to come from "a Palouse horse", the name of a major river in the tribe's area. When the tribe was forced on a reservation, most of the horses were slaughtered or given to local white settlers, leading to many Appaloosa horses becoming merged to the Quarter Horse breed. As a result, most people use it as a color term.

Nancy Wak Wak (Umatilla) on an Appaloosa, 1937. Oregon Historical Society Research Library, 018041

The genes responsible for the Appaloosa pattern is the Leopard Complex, controlled by an incomplete dominant gene (Lp/-), which turns on the complex when present, and turns it off when absent. Several other genes control the amount of white, the type of white, how big the spots are, ect. One Lp turns the complex on, but two Lps creates a mostly white blanket, or a fewspot coat.

This horse has double Lp. The horse above it has one Lp, creating the many spotted coat.

Not all spotted horses are Appaloosas! In Denmark, the Knabstrupper is a breed of horse with no relation to the Appaloosa, but with the same gene creating the same spotted coat. Completely different breed, different origins, but same genes.

In all of these patterns, the pattern can be maximal, or very visible, or minimal, and not visible at all. A horse can look solid colored, but be hiding a pattern gene. So if you want to make babies, test your horse's genetics first! You do not want to accidentally cause a genetic deficiency.

Finally, the famous white horse.

Grey and White Horses

Most 'white' horses are actually grey. White horses are very rare. Grey horses are called grey because they are born with a colored coat, but because of the Grey gene (G/g) they lose color as they get older. Grey horses go through many colors throughout their lives.

A grey foal and grey mother. Babies are born with the base color visible, but lose it as they age.

A dapple grey horse in the process of losing its baby coat.

A fully greyed-out horse at adulthood. Even all grey, the skin around it's eyes and nose is still black, because the skin underneath has not lost color, only the hair.

A white horse is born white, will always be white, and is never naturally any other color. The skin of a white horse is pink, because it, like the hair, does not have color.

Sodashi is a Japanese racehorse and a member of a super-rare white horse family. Several members of her family are pure white, due to a mutation that gives them extreme white pattern, much like with the Tobiano gene. Her relative, Buchiko, shows the minimal pattern that gives them their white color.

Same pattern, but maximal and minimal expression!

[equinquinox]

what's this about horse coat genetics?

OOOOOOOOH OKAY OKAY SO! I really only know the basics and ill probably get something wrong as I still have a LOT to learn but!

If you know anything about horses you'll know about all of the coats possible. However at their root, they're made up of 3 base colors: bay, chestnut (red), and black. Bay is technically a branch of black, as it occurs when the agouti gene is added to a black base. HOWEVER it is also one of, if not the most common coat color. I wont go too much into detail about bays as theres a lot still unknown about the genetic makeup (the gene that makes seal brown bays, for example, is still unidentified) and theres sooo many different shades of bay. However a bay is classified as a horse with a brown body and darker points (such as the legs, mane, and tail.)

Heres a few photos displaying the 3 base coats: bay, black, and chestnut respectively.

All of the other coat colors are a result of dilution genes. For example, take the creme gene. The creme gene is what produces coats such as palomino, cremello, and buckskin.

Specifically, when a heterozygous creme allele is added onto a chestnut base, the result is a palomino. Palomino's are recognizable for their yellowish/gold coat and light manes and tails. Palomino's also have a very wide range of brightness, some can be mistaken for cremellos. When a homozygous creme allele is added onto a chestnut base the result is a cremello.

When a heterozygous creme allele is added onto a bay base, the result is a buckskin! Buckskins can be mistaken as duns and vise versa, but the main difference is that buckskins do not have the "primitive markings" that a horse carrying the dun gene would have. Buckskins are characterized by a yellowish body, while its dark points from its bay base are pretty much unaffected. When a homozygous creme allele is added onto a bay base, the result is a perlino.

When a heterozygous creme allele is added onto a black base, the result is a smoky black. Its very hard to tell when a smoky black horse occurs as they basically just look like black horses. The same is said about a homozygous creme allele, which produces a smoky creme.

Cremellos, perlinos, and smoky cremes are incredibly hard to differentiate based on pure appearance. Really the only way to know which is which is through genetic testing, esp with smoky cremes. Though perlinos can sometimes have more reddish manes and tails then cremellos.

Theres a lot more that goes into this stuff. Many coat colors can be confused with one another so its hard to be certain on what coat a horse actually has without genetic testing. The champagne or pearl genes are both very similar to the creme genes, and so on. Theres some more stuff id like to talk about as well, such as the grey gene, but I don't want to make this anymore longer so maybe ill talk about it at a later date after I learn more on this topic! :) I like horses a lot if you couldn't tell

[themurphyzone]

Nova Ch 12

AN: I’ve been waiting to write this chapter for so long! Can you believe it’s been a year since I started this story? 

Ch 12: Mare

AO3 Link

Dear Mickey Mouse Calendar, 

It’s May 2nd, and you know what that means! Well, besides bringing May flowers of course! The flowers are going to be so beautiful this year, I can tell! Especially once they bring the butterflies and the birds and the bees! Oh dear, do you think Brain knows about the factory in the sky that produces cute little mouse babies? I hope so. 

Anyway, the beautiful, lovely, fantabulous Pharfignewton’s gonna be running in the Derby in just a little bit! She’s worked really really hard to get this far, and I’m super proud of her! She’s gonna be one step closer to the Triple Crown when she wins! 

Anyway, I’m running out of room on this page, so I just wanted to say I love you, Figgy Pudding! May the best mare win!

Love, 

Pinky 

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky added a heart by his name with a sparkly pink gel pen and blew a kiss to the image of Mickey and Minnie driving a cute little car into the sunset. Then he recapped the pen, washed his hands of extra glitter, and returned to the TV, which had been tuned into the Kentucky Derby for the past two hours. 

They were still conducting pre-race interviews with the owners, jockeys, and trainers. Though there were several saddled horses with colorful numbers in the background, none of them were Pharfignewton. 

But they were still very beautiful horses, clopping around on the dirt-covered track as they flicked their ears and tails in anticipation of the race.  

Several boxes of leftover pizza and paper plates were laid out in front of the television.. It was so nice of the scientists to throw a pizza party and let them have the leftovers! Pepperoni, mac and cheese, and pineapple pizza were all so delicious, and they tasted even better when all three were combined on a single slice! 

Pinky popped a pineapple cube in his mouth, giggling as it stung his tongue. Then he turned to his hat, which laid a short distance away from the leftover pizza so it didn’t get soiled. Lovely, glittery red and purple roses decorated the outside of the hat, and every inch was decked with colorful feathers, encouraging messages, and Pharfignewton’s name so everybody for miles around could see he was rooting for his favorite horse. 

Since the hat was too big and heavy for him to wear throughout the pre-race festivities, he decided to just put it on a few minutes before the race instead.

And it was so sweet of Gummy, Madame Daisy, Nicholas, and Mr. Button to support Pharfignewton! They were all gathered in front of the TV so they could watch the Derby too! 

Pinky’s ear twitched at a gagging noise on his left, and he turned his head just in time to see Brain spit a chunk of pineapple onto a napkin. 

“Of all things, why in Selene’s name would you ruin perfectly good cheese with battery acid?” Brain snapped. He immediately dunked his muzzle into a thimble of water. 

“Batteries aren’t a pizza topping,” Pinky said. Did batteries look like pineapples on New Selene? “And pineapple pizza tastes delicious!” 

Brain scowled as he shoved the paper plate with his barely touched pineapple pizza slice towards Pinky, then grabbed a new plate and loaded it with two slices of pepperoni. 

“I’m outlawing that vile piece of filth you call food as soon as I rule the world,” Brain declared. 

“You can’t do that!” Pinky cried. What was next? Declaring pumpkin spice illegal? He would never support such an awful law! “That’s...that’s just unconstitutional! A breach of power! I won’t stand for it, Brain!” 

Then he realized he was standing up to grab the pineapple pizza slice, so he promptly sat down and chomped on pineapple, tomato sauce, and bread to prove his point. 

Brain wrinkled his nose, but before he could reply, the TV panned to show a beautiful, gray-maned white horse prancing in circles around her jockey, nearly tying him up in her reins. 

“That’s her! That’s Pharfignewton!” Pinky yelled, spewing tomato sauce from his mouth. “Hi, Fig! It’s me, Pinky!” 

Pinky quickly set his pizza down and slipped the hat on, sitting underneath the brim while the rest of the hat was propped against the counter. He hoped Pharfignewton could see the messages he’d written. 

“The cameras aren’t two-way, Pinky,” Brain said, but Pharfignewton whinnied happily, so Pinky knew she could hear him from thousands of miles away! 

She wore a beautiful pink cloth over her back with the number fifteen emblazoned in white, with a brown saddle on top. She tossed her head back and whinnied, her reins quivering in the sunlight. Her jockey slipped a pink mask over her face, and when she turned to look at the camera, her gorgeous blue eyes stood out even more. 

“You have quite the unusual horse here, Mr. Gardner,” the reporter said to Pharfignewton’s owner, who Pinky recognized by his bushy beard. “Not much of a looker, nor was she sired from any famous line of racehorses. And only one fellow’s bet on her at all.” 

Pinky frowned. Not much of a looker? That reporter’s obviously never seen Pharfignewton with the wind flowing through her mane, or the joyful neighs whenever she galloped around a field, or how she practically glowed whenever she ran. 

Mr. Gardner leveled a glare at the reporter, who withered from the intense look. “Pharfignewton may have a different build from her fellow racehorses, but she’s a hundred times more passionate about racing than anyone else. It’s true that neither of her parents have competed on the national level, but she’s inherited her mother’s spirit and her father’s diligence, a mixture of traits which will suit her well today.” 

“Yes...I’m sure it will,” the reporter muttered. His eyes darted to a chestnut horse with a yellow cloth draped over his back. “Oh, would you look at the time? I don’t believe I’ve gotten a chance to talk with Mayoneighaise’s team yet!” 

He scurried off, the cameraman trailing behind him. 

A board flashed onscreen, showing the horses’ names and numbers before cutting to commercial. 

“Mr. Legs? Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse? Is this entire competition just an excuse to saddle these poor creatures with horrific names?” Brain asked over the noise of a car commercial. 

“You can’t saddle a name. You saddle horses, Brain,” Pinky said. Brain could be so confused sometimes. 

“And they barely gave Pharfignewton the time of day,” Brain added. “But they dedicated a full fifteen minutes to Arabian Night’s training sessions.” 

Pinky shrugged. “Well, Arabian Night worked really hard. He deserved that time. And so does Maximus and Maverick and Black Beauty and Rainbow Dash and-” 

“It’s blatant favoritism,” Brain cut in. 

The commercial break ended, and the broadcast showed a female reporter approaching an enormous, muscular black stallion with a comically small jockey leading him by the reins. He bore a royal purple cloak with number one written in a fancy golden script on his back. The horse was so dark that Pinky could barely see his eyes or mouth. 

“And here we have the clear fan-favorite, Daddy’s Little Angel,” the reporter declared as she carefully approached the horse, who huffed when she got too close to his muzzle. She pulled back, keeping her microphone close to her body. “An excellent track record locally and regionally, highest odds tonight, and a descendant of the famous Triple Crown winner Secretariat. He sure has a lot going for him, don’t you think?” 

Daddy’s Little Angel was stoic and handsome, and as his owner and trainer listed off his various accomplishments, Pinky crossed his fingers and toes for good luck. Pharfignewton had a whole lot of competition. Sure, she was the fastest racehorse around these parts, but in the Derby she was a small goldfish in a large aquarium full of other fish. 

“Zort! Nope, can’t think like that!” Pinky said, thumping his head with his fist. He didn’t want to have doubts about her talent! She was the best, the swiftest, and the fastest at eating apples and hay! There’s no way she could lose! 

“Quiet, Pinky. I’m trying to listen,” Brain said. His pink eyes gleamed with interest as a montage of Daddy’s Little Angel’s previous feats flashed across the screen. “I wouldn’t be opposed to owning a horse like that for ceremonial purposes.” 

“Parading around on Pharfignewton sounds lovely,” Pinky sighed dreamily. 

He imagined Pharfignewton in a beautiful golden outfit, bells on her reins, and prancing down the street to a cheering crowd while he rode on her back. And there were pretty parade floats and celebrities singing and giant balloons of all his favorite characters! 

He was broken out of his fantasy by the sound of a fanfare. 

“Attention, all riders and horses! Clear the track and proceed to your stalls! The race will commence shortly!” the announcer declared. 

The camera lingered on Daddy’s Little Angel for just a little longer before panning out for a wide shot of the horses and jockeys making their way to the starting point, the trainers leading the horses by the reins and securing them in the stalls. 

Fifteen horses dressed in colorful racing garb whinnied and bucked their hind legs in anticipation of the race. Daddy’s Little Angel was in the first stall, the one nearest to the fence. Next to him, a majestic, stout white horse named Maximus took the number two slot. Like Daddy’s Little Angel, he was poised, calm, and determined to win. 

Most of the other horses were far more impatient though. Rainbow Dash wouldn’t quit stomping in her stall, and Maverick gave her a warning nip when her tail flicked him one too many times. She didn’t like that at all, and both jockeys fought to get their horses under control. 

A cinnamon stallion named Spirit thrashed in his stall, nearly throwing his rider off multiple times while two other people tried to calm him down. 

Then they finally showed Pharfignewton. She was in the stall closest to the stands, and while she was penned securely, the workers were all focused on the skittish racehorses. 

Pharfignewton flashed a horsey smile to the audience, then lowered her head in anticipation for the race to begin. 

Pinky’s fingers, toes, and tail were all crossed. She had to win! This was her dream ever since she was a little filly!

“And they���re off!” the announcer declared as the bell rang and the gates opened. All fifteen horses galloped out of the stalls, kicking up dirt as their hooves thundered against the ground. “Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus off to an early lead! Horsin’ Around’s pulling ahead of Tricky Mickey and...oh! Spirit’s bucked his jockey! That’s gonna cost everyone behind ‘em some time!” 

The names and number display at the bottom of the screen shifted around as horses pulled ahead or fell behind. 

Pinky’s muscles tensed as Pharfignewton swerved to avoid a riderless Spirit, though Achilles’ Heel was unlucky enough to be caught on a back ankle by a flailing hoof. Pharfignewton fell behind Mr. Legs and Mayoneighase for a split second before increasing her speed and passing them as they reached the first turn.

Pharfignewton was truly in her element! Like a happy, gusty wind spirit! 

“YOU CAN DO IT, FIG!” Pinky screamed at the top of his lungs, and there was an angry shushing noise, followed by a parmesan packet smacking the side of his head. “Thanks for the parmesan, Brain!” 

“Onto the second turn!” the announcer continued. “Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus neck and neck! Rainbow Dash and Arabian Night fighting for third a mere two lengths away! Maverick trying to squeeze in but there’s no room! Hold onto your fancy hats, folks, this is shaping up to be a wild race!” 

Egad, he didn’t want to lose his fancy hat! Pinky clutched the edges with cheese-stained fingers. 

“Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus still leading the pack, but trailing them is Black Beauty and Grand Chawhee! Rainbow Dash and Arabian Night have fallen to fifth and sixth! Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse trying for a comeback while Maver-what’s this? Pharfignewton’s clawing her way up from tenth, ninth, eighth, seventh...now she’s passed Rainbow Dash! Ladies and gents, this could be the biggest recovery in the Derby’s history!” 

Oh, if only he remembered where he’d placed his cotton ball pom-poms! They’d come in super handy right now! 

Black Beauty and Grand Chawhee slowed down on the final turn, enabling Pharfignewton to easily overtake them for third place. Then she poured on the speed, closing in between Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus.

“NARF! GO, PHARFIGNEWTON!” Pinky screeched, his hat tumbling off as he leapt to his feet. If he screamed loud enough, Pharfignewton could hear him all the way in Kentucky! And the power of friendship always worked for last-minute wins! His cartoons were never wrong! 

“It’s a straight shot to the finish! Maximus falls back by half a length! Ladies and gents, could this be the greatest upset in horse racing history? It’s Pharfignewton! No, Daddy’s Little Angel pulls ahead! Now Pharfignewton! Daddy’s Little Angel!” 

Brain was quiet, but from the twitch of his pointed ears and the way he leaned forward, Pinky knew he was just as invested in the race. 

The camera centered on the finish line, but Pinky couldn’t tell who crossed first. Pharfignewton and Daddy’s Little Angel galloped offscreen just as the rest of the pack, led by Maximus, finished after them. 

“WHAT’S THIS? PHARFIGNEWTON AND DADDY’S LITTLE ANGEL HAVE CROSSED THE FINISH LINE AT THE SAME TIME! TURNING THE FOOTAGE OVER FOR REVIEW SO WE CAN DECLARE THE WINNER!”

Pinky quickly found that crossing his toes while standing wasn’t the best idea. He fell flat on his face, but quickly pushed himself up on his elbows as the Derby logo flashed by and replayed the last few seconds of the race in slow motion. 

Pharfignewton and Daddy’s Little Angel’s legs were just one giant blur next to the finish line, but the reel paused on a shot of Pharfignewton’s flaring nostril crossing the line before Daddy’s Little Angel’s front hooves touched it. 

Pinky sucked in his breath. 

“PHARFIGNEWTON HAS BEEN DECLARED THE WINNER! CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR VICTORY OVER THE 141ST KENTUCKY DERBY!” 

“She did it! She did it! Lo hicimos, she did it!” Pinky jumped for joy, his heart soaring in excitement for Pharfignewton. She was three years old and she’d accomplished so much! He was super duper extra proud of her! 

Brain rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, it seems all your supportive efforts have paid off.” 

Pinky grinned and tore off a cardboard flap of the pizza box, dumped parmesan cheese all over it, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Nothing tasted better than a victory pizza box with parmesan! 

“Want some?” Pinky offered a second flap to Brain. “It’s delicious!” 

Brain made a gagging noise. “That can’t possibly be good for your digestive system, Pinky.” 

Oh well. More for him then! 

Pharfignewton’s back was draped with beautiful roses, her team of humans all rushing up and hugging her as journalists bombarded them all with questions and photographers snapped photo after photo of her horsey smile. 

Daddy’s Little Angel trotted up to her with a flower crown in his mouth and dropped it onto her head, then drummed the ground steadily with a front hoof in his version of applause. All the other horses followed his lead. Even Spirit and Achilles’ Heel, who were being restrained by a team of trainers, gave their approval. Pharfignewton whinnied in delight, tossing back her head and showing off the beautiful crown. 

She really was the best. Pinky clutched his chest, that warm gooshy feeling of love spreading throughout his body. 

He couldn’t contain it much longer, and he picked up Brain to let it all out, and he danced around in joy with a squirming Brain in his arms. 

“Pinky, I understand that this outcome is most favorable, but I demand that you cease this at once!” Brain complained. 

But Pinky barely heard him. He was more interested in what Mr. Gardner had to say. 

“Pharfignewton did an amazing job and we’re very proud of her,” Mr. Gardner said as he fed Pharfignewton an apple, which she gladly inhaled. “Running’s in her blood, and I’m sure she’s made her parents very proud in equine heaven. She’s definitely gonna take the Preakness and Belmont by storm.” 

“You think she’s capable of gaining Triple Crown status?” the reporter asked. 

Pharfignewton neighed loudly in her direction, messing up the reporter’s hair. 

As the reporter struggled to fix it, Mr. Gardner smiled. “I think she made it clear that she takes what she wants.” 

Two more races for the Triple Crown. Right. 

Pinky stopped dancing, an odd but featherlight weight in his arms. In his excitement, he’d forgotten that Pharfignewton had to win the Preakness and Belmont for her dream to come true. 

It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it. She was a swift runner and the best racehorse in the world. But she would be gone for several months. All the way on the other side of the country. 

And he wanted her to achieve her dream so bad. To rank up there with the great racehorses of old. 

“Pinky?” a voice choked. 

He was accidentally squishing one of Brain’s antennae. Oops. 

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky quickly said, putting his friend down. 

Instead of stepping away like Pinky expected, Brain remained where he was. Brain was too good at forming unreadable expressions. His pretty pink eyes seemed concerned though. 

“This is a momentous occasion, isn’t it?” Brain asked. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?” 

Was that Selenian speak for happy? 

Yeah, he was supposed to be happy. Pharfignewton won. He was really happy for her. He didn’t want Pharfignewton to think he was a bad friend because he was sad about not seeing her for a while. 

“Of course I’m happy for her,” Pinky said. But it was flimsy even to his own mousey ears. 

Brain didn’t seem convinced either. One hand awkwardly hovered in the space between them. 

A little touch would be nice, and he held super still so Brain wouldn’t get spooked. But a tapping at the window broke Brain’s trance, and upon the sight of a hovering black camera with the Selenian logo on its side, he quickly pulled away. 

“Correspondence from Snowball,” Brain said. His ears flattened briefly before returning to their normal position. Maybe he regretted breaking their closeness too. “I’m taking this.” 

He wiped his fingers on a wet cloth before unlatching the window. The camera darted in once the window was open, its tripod claws dropping an unmarked envelope into Brain’s hands before flying off into the brilliant evening sky. 

Well, it could’ve had pizza if it stayed just a little longer. 

Pinky moved behind Brain as he tore open the envelope and unfolded the note inside, which was written in a neat script. 

Pickup at seven pm tomorrow. Don’t be late. 

-Snowball

“Well, it’s better than nothing,” Brain sighed. “I’ll make sure we have everything required for tomorrow night, Pinky.” 

He didn’t wait for a reply. He only disappeared into a hidden drawer where all their belongings were stored. 

The masquerade ball was important. He shouldn’t keep Brain from making sure they saved the invitation so they could get in. 

And it would be nice to wear that beautiful dress Sharon picked out. 

But there was an ache in his chest. One that gnawed at his heart, and he didn’t want that icky feeling gnawing at his heart. Pinky sat in front of the TV and focused on Pharfignewton’s happiness instead. He pushed away the pizza, the box tasting like cardboard on his tongue. 

If she was happy, he was happy. And wasn’t that all he needed?

End AN: So as a little treat I snuck some fictional horse names in here. I mean, obviously you know Pharfignewton as Pinky’s equine girlfriend. Daddy’s Little Angel is the name of the horse Brain rode in the OG Animaniacs episode Jockey for Position.

Grand Chawhee’s name is a reference to All Dogs Go to Heaven. Tricky Mickey comes from the 1978 movie Casey’s Shadow, which I caught my family watching a few weeks ago and I just decided to borrow a name from the movie.

Rainbow Dash from My Little Pony, Maximus from Tangled, Black Beauty from the book of the same name, Spirit from the Dreamworks movie, and Achilles’ Heel is a reference to Phoebus’ horse in Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Mr. Legs’ name provided by Boxy. Thank you, Boxy. Snuck in Pinky actually eating a pizza box for ya lol.

Final placements for the Derby are:

1. Pharfignewton 2. Daddy’s Little Angel 3. Maximus 4. Grand Chawhee 5. Black Beauty 6. Rainbow Dash 7. Arabian Night 8. Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse 9. Mr. Legs 10. Maverick 11. Horsin’ Around 12. Tricky Mickey 13. Mayoneighase 14. Achilles’ Heel (never finished) 15. Spirit (never finished)

Next chapter will finally have the Masquerade Ball and boy do I have plans. It’ll definitely be longer than this one. But this chapter at least wraps up the Derby subplot.

[wylanvnneck]

Rating: G for Giganotosaurus

Summary: Based on a TFOTA headcanon which I posted on Tumblr about Cardan and Jude visiting the Mortal world and Cardan getting introduced to pick-up lines. That he uses. Frequently. Which, of course completely irritates Jude.

Originally posted on AO3 | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Chapter 1

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Jude lets out a slight sigh of exhaustion as she fights to remain poised on her throne, the picture of elegance in front of her reveling subjects. She cannot show any signs of weakness. Her husband beside her steals a glance at her from over his wine glass, noting the weariness on her face that she is attempting to hide.

She can’t help but feel a little relieved when Cardan sets the glass of wine down as he stands and announces, “The Queen and I will be retiring for the day, but do carry on with the merry making.”

She takes a moment to drink in the sight of him imperiously addressing his subjects, the gold on his cheeks glistening under the bright lights. His black eyes shining, highlighted by the Kohl on his lids. The crown sitting regally atop his raven locks which fall over the pointy-tipped ears that mark his ancestry. He is beautiful, untouchable and yet, hers. She takes the arm that he extends as they gracefully exit the hall, headed towards their bed chambers.

“Tired, my mortal goddess?” he murmurs in her ear as they walk.

She is tempted to lie, so as to not appear fragile, but this was Cardan. The only person for whom she would remove her armour.

So she replies, “ A little, I admit,” looking up into his raven eyes that seem to hold a glint of concern.

He knew that the constant celebrations of the Fae took a toll on her, but she refused to shirk her duties as the Queen of Elfhame, attending every revel. The matter often caused fights between them but the make ups were always just as passionate as their yelling was.

“Your Majesties, please excuse me,” they are intercepted by Fand, Jude’s personal knight. “Your sister has sent you a letter, Your Highness.” She hands Jude a letter with her name scrawled on the envelope in Vivi’s sloppy cursive. For a moment she’d hoped it was from Taryn, her twin with whom she maintained a rather tenuous relationship. She was still glad to hear from Vivi  who kept up a correspondence with her between the Mortal world and the Fae one, both of them exchanging letters, although oftentimes Jude’s many duties would intercede.

“Thank you Fand, you may go.” She thumbs the letter as Fand respectfully bows and retreats.

“I wonder what your sister has to say this time?” Cardan remarks as they enter their rooms, immediately starting to remove his extravagant attire and change into his equally extravagant silk night robe.

“No idea, I only hope it’s nothing to do with Madoc and Oriana.” Jude’s relationship with her father was a very, very fragile one. After all that had transpired between them, she hadn’t yet reached out to him, with only Vivi’s letters to provide her with any news of his doings in the Mortal Realm since she’d banished him. He’d said that he understood her actions, but understanding did not mean forgiving.  Not that she needed forgiving. He was the one in the wrong. But he was also still the man who had raised her to be the warrior she was now.

As if sensing her thoughts, Cardan steps closer to where she is standing by the doorframe, gently nudging her with his now free tail as she rips open the envelope. He rests his head on her shoulder and joins her in her attempt to decipher Vivi’s handwriting.

“She’s inviting us to come and visit them in the mortal realm for a while, now that things are calmer.” It was indeed true that months had passed since Jude had slayed Cardan’s serpentine form, fulfilling the prophecy and the two had brought peace to Elfhame by ridding it of Madoc’s rebels.

“She says that a short break would be beneficial for the both of us and that Oak keeps asking to see me.” She smiles to herself as she thinks of her precocious younger brother.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Cardan says. “You deserve a break, Jude. More importantly, I do, for all the hard work I attend to,” he adds with an exaggerated yawn and a smug look.

She gives that last statement as much attention as it deserved, which is to say, she ignores it.

“But can we afford to take a break? What about the safety of our Kingdom?”

“I’m sure that the Court of Shadows and our bloodthirsty redcap general can handle the Kingdom in our absence and it would only be for a few days. Besides, I am curious to see more of where my wife spent her days during her...exile.” He falters slightly on that last word, shooting her a wary look. He knows that Jude did not at all appreciate his trickery that had led to those miserable days in exile. She has forgiven him, mostly, but there was no harm in keeping the High King on his toes.

She narrows her eyes at him and in response he presses a penitent kiss to her lips.

Before they can get too wrapped up in each other he pulls away, “So it’s settled? We shall spend a few days in the mortal realm with your sister?”

“I suppose so.” Now that Jude is resigned to the idea she feels a spark of excitement at visiting her family.

* * *

A few nights later the couple, accompanied by the Roach, make their way to the sea that separates them from the Mortal lands as the fog swirls around them, each carrying saddlebags. Cardan conjures two bony Ragwort ponies from a few stalks, silent and ready to carry them across the realms. They have donned mortal clothes, Jude in a sensible black pair of shorts and a dark top, under which she has concealed her various weapons and Cardan looking quite irregular in his tight-fitting denim jeans and loose white shirt that Jude had scrounged up for him. Despite her best efforts at pleading with him, she had not succeeded in having his gold cheeks and kohl removed, creating a very striking yet confusing image of the Fae in ill-fitting mortal clothes. He did, at least, promise to glamour the pointed tips of his ears once they’d crossed.

“Worry not, Your Highnesses, your Kingdom is in good hands,” the Roach bids them farewell.

“I do hope so,” Cardan replies, giving him a quick nod, mounting his steed after Jude and tangling his fingers in the horse's leafy mane as they take off into the night.

It’s nearing dawn once they’re outside Vivi and Heather’s apartment, the horses dissolving into stalks that blow away in the dark and quiet surroundings. Cardan takes in the sights around him and Jude remembers that he’d been here once before, coming to Vivi for help after Madoc had kidnapped Jude right from Cardan’s presence, thinking she was Taryn.

“It is strange. The last time I was here I was in such a hurry to find you that I didn’t really notice much of what was around me,” he says, his enhanced eyesight not at all hindered by the darkness.

“What do you think of the mortal world so far?” Jude asks, ringing the doorbell.

“Usually at this time we Fae would be feasting and dancing, but here it’s so still and silent. It seems that no one is awake.”

“Sometimes mortals actually do have night time revels,” she replies, thinking of the nightclubs that Vivi used to sneak off to back when they lived with Madoc. She’d sometimes waltz back into Jude’s room upon returning and describe her night to her half-impressed, half-disapproving sisters, her cheeks flushed from alcohol and dancing. It felt like ages ago.

“Is that so? Perhaps while we are here we should attend one of these revels,” Cardan suggests, head tilting.

“Perhaps,” Jude replies distractedly as she wonders why it was taking so long  for someone to answer the door. They had sent a quick note informing her sister of their impending visit so they should be expected.

Finally Vivi swings open the door, her petite body clothed in a baggy set of pajamas, “Jude, you’re here,” she opens the door wider, scanning her sister with her golden cat’s eyes.

“Hello Vivi,” Jude steps inside and gives her a quick hug with Cardan following in her wake, “Sister-in-law,” he teases.

“Pain-in-law,” Vivi responds, not missing a beat. Jude smiles to herself. It was good to see her sassy half-sister again.

Jude follows her sister to the kitchen counter as she fumbles around for some mugs to make coffee in. Cardan settles himself onto a high stool, intrigued by the coffee machine that Vivi was currently operating. The three of them linger in the kitchen for some time, drinking their beverages and exchanging stories, Jude relating stories of Elfhame and court happenings and Vivi catching them up on the recent happenings in the Mortal world and Oak’s schooling and Heather’s job. Jude is relieved to know that Madoc and Oriana hadn’t gotten into any trouble in the mortal world, at least not as yet, and that they were currently living somewhere quite far off, though they did frequently come and visit Oak. They wouldn’t be visiting while Jude was here, she was glad to hear. That confrontation would have to come at some point she supposed, but not just yet.

Finally, Vivi calls it a night, showing them to the room they were to occupy and leaving them to return to her sleeping girlfriend’s side.

Cardan takes in the messy bedroom, with a half-heartedly made up bed, obviously a last minute preparation for their arrival. “So, this is where you slept when you were here?” He lays on the bed and slowly stretches his legs out in a cat-like manner, watching Jude as she deposits their bags on the floor.  

“Indeed. Not quite the level of luxury you’re used to, Your Highness,” she smirks, crawling onto the bed beside him. She pushes him aside to make space for herself.

“Nevertheless, there is something to be said about smaller beds,” he responds, putting his arm about her waist and pulling her close, freeing his tail from the jeans to wrap around her calf.

“Hmm…” she mumbles tiredly, resting her head on his chest, feeling her husband’s hands stroking her chestnut hair, lulling her to sleep.

Thank you to @cupcakesandkittens​ for encouraging me to post this fic on tumblr as well.💕

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Please let me know if you'd like me to tag you in further installations of this fic:))

[inquistior-a]

BELATED VALENTINE THINGS THAT ABSOLUTELY NOBODY ASKED FOR  /  @mercysought, for abel

   𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙻𝙴 𝙱𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝚂 𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙴’𝚂 𝚃𝙴𝙴𝚃𝙷,  and Hal must tug the smaller half away in his hand lest she swallow the whole of it. He laughs at her impatient nose, and turns to Abel again.  “Handsome, isn’t she?”

   She is indeed a beautiful animal, bay and roan, dappled white and chestnut through her body to the dark, silvery-black flow of her legs. A high back and lean body, an unwhitened red head and ink-dark mane and tail. Strawberry, they would have called her colouring in Ferelden. Uncommonly beautiful, Halwn thinks, and had upon first seeing her, and uncommonly reserved in her disposition, not unlike the young knight beside him—even with the tension in her body, and the tired way she holds her right front leg bent above the ground, refusing to put weight upon it. The limb is bound in cloth around a wooden splint.

   “She is called Félice. Her foreleg is fractured. The Duke de Val Montaigne rode her too hard up the hill, and then traded her off to the stablehands with a demand that she be dealt with.”  A rare curl of contempt colours Hal’s tone. It feels good to finally express it.  “The mage healers have knit the bone as best they might, and her pain is eased for now, but they are unsure if she will ever bear a rider again. Time will tell. Dennet has been tending her, but as he will be riding east next week for the livestock market in Oswin—”

  He hesitates only barely. Halwn is aware of how it might appear, the collusion of concepts between them, this beautiful horse and this beautiful man, and how Abel might imagine that this is how the Inquisitor sees him now: a wounded animal, callously discarded. He trusts that Abel understands him enough to know that such a thing could never be true.

   “I thought perhaps you might like to care for her.”

   Abel’s eyes sweep towards him, surprised and blue and beautiful in the dawn light, and Halwn cannot help but smile. Abel’s free hand is resting upon the edge of the stall door and the Inquisitor reaches for it, takes it up—possessed by some feeling, brings it to his mouth. Abel, as he always is, is tolerant of the gesture. There is even a kind of indulgent sympathy around his eyes when Halwn touches his brow and thumbs his chin, still smiling.

   The memory of Abel in the kitchen yard brushing his white courser in the morning rises unlooked for in Halwn’s mind. The two of them sturdy and fine, yellow light falling over them. Abel’s murmured words to her, his soft and nurturing tenderness, and how stealing sight of that private interchange had stirred something in Halwn’s heart, a pleasure like the soft ache of a healing bruise. He has not seen that animal, and the Inquisitor knows it likely that she is buried in the Exalted Plains, or somewhere else along the road of war. It pains him to think of it. It pains him to think of Abel unconscious in a healer’s tent, delirious with injury, fed on by the flies of war, unable to say farewell. It pains him because he is sure that it must pain Abel, as well.

   Abel isn’t an animal. He isn’t broken. Still, there is hardly a person in the world who is not in need of some healing—and healing is all the harder when its work is undergone alone.

   Life goes on, Abel, with or without us,  Halwn wants to say, nearly as much as he wants to bend down to kiss Abel’s upturned mouth, but he cannot bring himself to make the moment heavy. Everything is so heavy now. Just an hour or two of lightness is all the cure in the world.

   “You needn’t accept, if it is too much. She will be well looked after, regardless. I had only hoped that she might make you smile.”

[calmgotmelike]

Hey guys! So this is something I wrote awhile ago and idk if y’all will like it but wanted to post it 😊 let me know what you think and/or if I should write more. If you have any questions about horse stuff feel free to message me! The cover page has all the horses on it! I’ll reboot with the order of which horse is which.

5sos x horses; Luke Hemmings x Nicole

Chapter​ ​1

The​ ​trailer​ ​door​ ​swung​ ​open​ ​and​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​chestnut​ ​warmblood​ ​backed​ ​out​ ​with​ ​his​ ​head​ ​held​ ​high​ ​and​ ​his​ ​tail brushing​ ​against​ ​his​ ​legs,as​ ​he​ ​swishes​ ​it​ ​back​ ​and​ ​forth.​ ​His​ ​name​ ​was​ ​etched​ ​on​ ​the​ ​silver​ ​plate​ ​attached​ ​to​ ​the cheek​ ​piece​ ​of​ ​his​ ​orange​ ​halter.​ ​The​ ​scripture​ ​was​ ​neat​ ​and​ ​straight,​ ​etched​ ​in​ ​all​ ​capital​ ​letters​ ​"CRASH"​ ​centered in​ ​the​ ​middle​ ​of​ ​the​ ​plate.​ ​Crash​ ​was​ ​a​ ​heck​ ​of​ ​a​ ​horse,​ ​strong​ ​and​ ​trained​ ​to​ ​the​ ​t.​ ​He​ ​excelled​ ​in​ ​everything​ ​he​ ​did. He​ ​won​ ​almost​ ​all​ ​the​ ​Jumper​ ​shows​ ​he​ ​entered​ ​and​ ​excelled​ ​in​ ​dressage.​ ​Crash​ ​was​ ​sent​ ​to​ ​my​ ​farm​ ​as​ ​a retirement​ ​home,​ ​even​ ​though​ ​he's​ ​only​ ​about​ ​6.​ ​His​ ​owner​ ​decided​ ​that​ ​he​ ​should​ ​retire​ ​from​ ​the​ ​show​ ​life​ ​and​ ​just be​ ​a​ ​normal​ ​horse​ ​so​ ​I​ ​bought​ ​him​ ​to​ ​teach​ ​people​ ​how​ ​to​ ​jump​ ​and​ ​use​ ​him​ ​as​ ​a​ ​beginner​ ​level​ ​show​ ​horse.​ ​I​ ​took Crash​ ​from​ ​the​ ​trailer​ ​hand​ ​and​ ​led​ ​him​ ​into​ ​the​ ​barn.

The​ ​barn​ ​had​ ​about​ ​12​ ​stalls​ ​with​ ​an​ ​attached​ ​indoor​ ​riding​ ​arena​ ​at​ ​the​ ​end.​ ​There​ ​were​ ​6​ ​sets​ ​of​ ​cross​ ​ties in​ ​the​ ​isle​ ​between​ ​the​ ​stalls.​ ​There​ ​was​ ​a​ ​room​ ​5​ ​stalls​ ​deep​ ​on​ ​the​ ​left​ ​that​ ​was​ ​filled​ ​with saddles,halters,leads,bridles,​ ​and​ ​everything​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​needed​ ​along​ ​with​ ​their​ ​food.All​ ​the​ ​stalls​ ​led�� ​out​ ​to​ ​long stretched​ ​out​ ​paddocks,​ ​leaving​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​plenty​ ​of​ ​room​ ​to​ ​run​ ​and​ ​graze.​ ​All​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​were​ ​outside​ ​in​ ​their pastures​ ​when​ ​we​ ​entered​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​and​ ​​ ​I​ ​brought​ ​Crash​ ​into​ ​the​ ​4the​ ​stall​ ​on​ ​the​ ​left.​ ​I​ ​released​ ​the​ ​lead​ ​from​ ​the place​ ​it​ ​was​ ​clipped​ ​on​ ​his​ ​halter,​ ​letting​ ​him​ ​loose​ ​in​ ​his​ ​stall.​ ​He​ ​instantly​ ​gulped​ ​up​ ​some​ ​water​ ​and​ ​moved​ ​to​ ​his hay​ ​with​ ​a​ ​wag​ ​of​ ​his​ ​tail.​ ​After​ ​waving​ ​off​ ​the​ ​trailer​ ​hand,​ ​i​ ​climbed​ ​up​ ​into​ ​the​ ​hay​ ​loft​ ​and​ ​pushed​ ​down​ ​8​ ​bales​ ​of hay,​ ​landing​ ​them​ ​right​ ​outside​ ​the​ ​front​ ​door​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn.

"Oy,Nicole!​ ​You​ ​almost​ ​crushed​ ​us​ ​there​ ​sweetheart."​ ​a​ ​thick​ ​Australian​ ​accent​ ​called​ ​from​ ​below.​ ​I​ ​smiled as​ ​i​ ​climbed​ ​down​ ​the​ ​ladder​ ​faced​ ​with​ ​4​ ​boys​ ​covered​ ​in​ ​hay.​ ​"Sorry​ ​guys!"​ ​I​ ​giggle​ ​as​ ​i​ ​grab​ ​each​ ​hay​ ​bail​ ​and quickly​ ​stack​ ​them​ ​in​ ​a​ ​4X4​ ​pile.​ ​"Haven't​ ​brought​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​in​ ​yet?"​ ​A​ ​voice​ ​asked​ ​form​ ​behind​ ​me.​ ​I​ ​turn​ ​around​ ​to face​ ​him.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​tall,​ ​about​ ​6'3",​ ​with​ ​bright​ ​blue​ ​eyes​ ​and​ ​blonde​ ​hair​ ​that​ ​was​ ​styled​ ​up​ ​into​ ​a​ ​quiff.​ ​"The​ ​new​ ​horse came​ ​just​ ​a​ ​few​ ​minutes​ ​ago,Lucas.I​ ​haven't​ ​had​ ​time."​ ​I​ ​smiled​ ​at​ ​him​ ​as​ ​i​ ​walked​ ​up​ ​to​ ​him​ ​and​ ​quickly​ ​kissed​ ​him on​ ​the​ ​lips.​ ​If​ ​you​ ​couldn't​ ​tell​ ​the​ ​blonde,tall​ ​boy​ ​is​ ​my​ ​boyfriend​ ​Luke.​ ​With​ ​him​ ​he​ ​brought​ ​his​ ​friends Ashton,Calum,and​ ​Michael.​ ​Ashton​ ​is​ ​tall​ ​but​ ​the​ ​shortest​ ​of​ ​the​ ​boys.​ ​he​ ​has​ ​curly​ ​brown​ ​hair​ ​with​ ​emerald​ ​green eyes​ ​and​ ​is​ ​always​ ​smiling.​ ​He​ ​wore​ ​a​ ​ripped​ ​up​ ​muscle​ ​tee​ ​and​ ​black​ ​skinny​ ​jean​ ​identical​ ​to​ ​the​ ​rest​ ​of​ ​the​ ​boys. Calum​ ​has​ ​black​ ​hair​ ​with​ ​a​ ​blond​ ​streak​ ​in​ ​his​ ​bangs​ ​that​ ​is​ ​swept​ ​off​ ​to​ ​the​ ​side​ ​just​ ​over​ ​his​ ​chocolate​ ​brown​ ​. Michael​ ​has​ ​a​ ​different​ ​hair​ ​color​ ​every​ ​time​ ​i​ ​see​ ​him,​ ​but​ ​today​ ​it​ ​was​ ​red​ ​and​ ​styled​ ​in​ ​a​ ​messy​ ​wind​ ​swept​ ​look hiding​ ​​ ​a​ ​little​ ​bit​ ​of​ ​his​ ​jade​ ​eyes​ ​from​ ​view.

"Do​ ​you​ ​guys​ ​wanna​ ​help​ ​me​ ​get​ ​them​ ​in?"​ ​i​ ​asked​ ​as​ ​i​ ​ran​ ​down​ ​to​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​entering​ ​the​ ​stalls and​ ​clipping​ ​the​ ​doors​ ​to​ ​the​ ​paddocks​ ​open​ ​and​ ​sliding​ ​the​ ​stall​ ​doors​ ​closed​ ​behind​ ​me.​ ​Ashton​ ​and​ ​Calum​ ​did​ ​the same​ ​as​ ​I​ ​saw​ ​Luke​ ​and​ ​Michael​ ​struggling​ ​to​ ​open​ ​a​ ​hay​ ​bail.​ ​"Um,Nicole​ ​do​ ​you​ ​have​ ​like​ ​a​ ​knife​ ​or​ ​something?" Michael​ ​yells​ ​to​ ​me​ ​as​ ​i​ ​meet​ ​Calum​ ​and​ ​Ashton​ ​by​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room,​ ​all​ ​the​ ​stalls​ ​ready​ ​for​ ​the​ ​horses.​ ​"You​ ​don't​ ​need one,Mike."​ ​i​ ​say​ ​as​ ​i​ ​walk​ ​over​ ​to​ ​them​ ​and​ ​take​ ​the​ ​baling​ ​twine​ ​and​ ​popping​ ​it​ ​off​ ​the​ ​hay.​ ​"Your​ ​girlfriends​ ​got​ ​some muscle,​ ​Luke"​ ​Michael​ ​nudges​ ​Luke​ ​in​ ​the​ ​arm​ ​as​ ​he​ ​watches​ ​me​ ​break​ ​open​ ​4​ ​more​ ​bales​ ​of​ ​hay.​ ​"It's​ ​because​ ​I've been​ ​opening​ ​hay​ ​bales​ ​for​ ​you​ ​for​ ​like​ ​3​ ​years."​ ​i​ ​turn​ ​around​ ​and​ ​look​ ​at​ ​Michael​ ​who​ ​is​ ​shocked​ ​for​ ​being​ ​called​ ​out on​ ​not​ ​be​ ​able​ ​to​ ​do​ ​it.​ ​The​ ​rest​ ​of​ ​the​ ​boys​ ​start​ ​laughing​ ​at​ ​Michaels​ ​lack​ ​of​ ​words​ ​and​ ​soon​ ​he​ ​joins​ ​in​ ​realizing​ ​i

was​ ​joking.Partially.​ ​The​ ​4​ ​boys​ ​helped​ ​me​ ​get​ ​hay​ ​in​ ​all​ ​the​ ​stall,​ ​Luke​ ​tossing​ ​a​ ​broken​ ​up​ ​bale​ ​over​ ​his​ ​shoulder and​ ​walking​ ​to​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn,​ ​throwing​ ​2​ ​flakes​ ​in​ ​each​ ​stall​ ​until​ ​he​ ​ran​ ​out.

As​ ​soon​ ​as​ ​the​ ​hay​ ​was​ ​in​ ​all​ ​the​ ​stalls,​ ​Calum​ ​turns​ ​to​ ​me​ ​and​ ​asks​ ​"can​ ​i​ ​do​ ​it​ ​this​ ​time?"​ ​I​ ​laugh​ ​as​ ​I​ ​nod my​ ​head​ ​and​ ​grab​ ​onto​ ​Luke's​ ​arm​ ​as​ ​he​ ​comes​ ​up​ ​next​ ​to​ ​me.​ ​Calum​ ​put​ ​his​ ​fingers​ ​in​ ​his​ ​mouth​ ​and​ ​whistled​ ​loud and​ ​long​ ​and​ ​there​ ​was​ ​a​ ​moment​ ​of​ ​silence​ ​throughout​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​then​ ​there​ ​was​ ​the​ ​sound​ ​of​ ​thundering​ ​hooves.​ ​All the​ ​horses​ ​came​ ​running​ ​in​ ​as​ ​we​ ​stood​ ​at​ ​the​ ​beginning​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​and​ ​watched​ ​as​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​started​ ​to​ ​nibble​ ​on their​ ​hay.​ ​In​ ​the​ ​stall​ ​to​ ​our​ ​left​ ​was​ ​Cam,​ ​a​ ​big​ ​chestnut​ ​suffolk​ ​punch.​ ​His​ ​coat​ ​glistened​ ​from​ ​the​ ​sunlight​ ​peeking​ ​in through​ ​the​ ​door​ ​behind​ ​him,​ ​making​ ​him​ ​look​ ​as​ ​if​ ​he​ ​was​ ​sparkling.​ ​On​ ​the​ ​Right​ ​side​ ​was​ ​Joe,​ ​a​ ​big​ ​black percheron​ ​with​ ​a​ ​huge​ ​head​ ​and​ ​body.​ ​His​ ​mane​ ​was​ ​perfectly​ ​straight​ ​and​ ​flopped​ ​to​ ​one​ ​side​ ​as​ ​he​ ​ate​ ​his​ ​hay. Beside​ ​Cam​ ​was​ ​my​ ​favorite​ ​horse,​ ​Baelfire.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​bay​ ​Arabian​ ​with​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​white​ ​blaze​ ​going​ ​down​ ​his forehead​ ​and​ ​ending​ ​at​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​his​ ​nose.

Across​ ​from​ ​Baelfire​ ​was​ ​Jade.​ ​I​ ​have​ ​had​ ​Jade​ ​since​ ​she​ ​was​ ​a​ ​foal.I​ ​rescued​ ​her​ ​form​ ​an​ ​animal​ ​shelter after​ ​her​ ​mother​ ​passed​ ​away​ ​and​ ​needed​ ​constant​ ​care.​ ​​ ​There​ ​was​ ​about​ ​a​ ​month​ ​where​ ​i​ ​was​ ​sleeping​ ​in​ ​the​ ​barn with​ ​her​ ​,feeding​ ​her​ ​bottles​ ​every​ ​3​ ​hours.​ ​Now​ ​she​ ​was​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​best​ ​horses​ ​I've​ ​ever​ ​trained.​ ​Even​ ​though​ ​she​ ​is about​ ​7​ ​years​ ​old,​ ​she​ ​is​ ​trained​ ​to​ ​understand​ ​my​ ​vocal​ ​commands​ ​and​ ​i​ ​use​ ​her​ ​all​ ​the​ ​time​ ​to​ ​teach​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​kids how​ ​to​ ​ride.​ ​She​ ​is​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​white​ ​Warmblood​ ​mare​ ​and​ ​is​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​most​ ​beautiful​ ​horses​ ​I've​ ​ever​ ​seen.​ ​Next​ ​to Baelfire​ ​was​ ​Luke's​ ​horse,​ ​Coal.​ ​We​ ​had​ ​gotten​ ​him​ ​about​ ​a​ ​year​ ​and​ ​a​ ​half​ ​ago​ ​as​ ​a​ ​5​ ​year​ ​old​ ​and​ ​Luke​ ​instantly fell​ ​in​ ​love​ ​with​ ​him.​ ​Horses​ ​then​ ​turned​ ​into​ ​a​ ​passion​ ​for​ ​both​ ​of​ ​us.​ ​Luke​ ​worked​ ​hard​ ​with​ ​Coal​ ​to​ ​make​ ​him​ ​the excellent​ ​horse​ ​that​ ​he​ ​is​ ​today.​ ​Coal​ ​is​ ​absolutely​ ​spoiled​ ​too.​ ​Luke​ ​always​ ​sneaks​ ​down​ ​and​ ​gives​ ​him​ ​twizzlers​ ​and candy,​ ​which​ ​Coal​ ​loves​ ​and​ ​can​ ​now​ ​smell​ ​on​ ​anyone,​ ​even​ ​in​ ​your​ ​breath.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​Coal​ ​​ ​​ ​is​ ​a​ ​horse​ ​named Klaus​ ​who​ ​is​ ​the​ ​biggest​ ​horse​ ​in​ ​the​ ​barn.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​black​ ​and​ ​white​ ​shire​ ​with​ ​with​ ​fluffy​ ​white​ ​feathering​ ​on his​ ​jet​ ​black​ ​legs.​ ​​ ​He​ ​has​ ​a​ ​straight​ ​blaze​ ​running​ ​down​ ​the​ ​length​ ​of​ ​his​ ​face​ ​and​ ​ending​ ​right​ ​above​ ​his​ ​nose. Despite​ ​his​ ​big​ ​body,​ ​he's​ ​the​ ​sweetest​ ​horse​ ​and​ ​everyone​ ​who​ ​meets​ ​him​ ​instantly​ ​falls​ ​in​ ​love​ ​with​ ​him.​ ​Next​ ​to Klaus​ ​is​ ​Crash​ ​the​ ​warmblood​ ​that​ ​I​ ​received​ ​this​ ​morning.​ ​He​ ​was​ ​settling​ ​in​ ​nicely​ ​as​ ​he​ ​munched​ ​on​ ​his​ ​hay looking​ ​up​ ​and​ ​down​ ​the​ ​aisle​ ​at​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​around​ ​him.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​Crash​ ​is​ ​Beck.​ ​Beck​ ​is​ ​a​ ​solid​ ​colored​ ​golden paint​ ​with​ ​a​ ​flaxen​ ​mane.Beck​ ​is​ ​sort​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​stud.​ ​He​ ​always​ ​has​ ​the​ ​2​ ​barn​ ​mares​ ​around​ ​him​ ​and​ ​he​ ​is​ ​always very​ ​possessive​ ​over​ ​them.​ ​The​ ​other​ ​horses​ ​let​ ​him​ ​think​ ​he's​ ​the​ ​boss​ ​but​ ​when​ ​he​ ​steps​ ​out​ ​of​ ​line​ ​the​ ​horses​ ​put him​ ​right​ ​back​ ​in​ ​his​ ​place.

Next​ ​to​ ​Beck​ ​is​ ​an​ ​empty​ ​stall​ ​at​ ​the​ ​moment.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​the​ ​empty​ ​stall​ ​is​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​filled​ ​with​ ​saddles and​ ​bridles,along​ ​with​ ​brushes,first​ ​aid​ ​supplies,​ ​and​ ​a​ ​bunch​ ​of​ ​other​ ​horse​ ​necessities.​ ​Next​ ​to​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​is​ ​a chestnut​ ​warmblood​ ​gelding​ ​named​ ​King.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​the​ ​old​ ​guy​ ​on​ ​the​ ​farm​ ​at​ ​the​ ​age​ ​of​ ​24,which​ ​is​ ​just​ ​a​ ​number​ ​to him.​ ​King​ ​loves​ ​to​ ​run​ ​and​ ​he​ ​loves​ ​to​ ​act​ ​like​ ​a​ ​2​ ​year​ ​old​ ​and​ ​run​ ​around​ ​the​ ​paddocks​ ​with​ ​the​ ​young​ ​guns​ ​of​ ​the barn.​ ​We​ ​never​ ​count​ ​King​ ​out​ ​because​ ​of​ ​his​ ​age.​ ​His​ ​age​ ​just​ ​makes​ ​him​ ​more​ ​experienced.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​King​ ​is the​ ​other​ ​barn​ ​mare​ ​Aussie​ ​who​ ​is​ ​an​ ​Australian​ ​Stock​ ​horse.​ ​She​ ​is​ ​a​ ​beautiful​ ​dark​ ​bay​ ​with​ ​light​ ​points​ ​and​ ​legs. Aussie​ ​is​ ​a​ ​great​ ​trail​ ​horse​ ​and​ ​has​ ​received​ ​many​ ​ribbons​ ​in​ ​reining​ ​and​ ​barrel​ ​racing.​ ​I​ ​still​ ​take​ ​her​ ​to​ ​shows​ ​every once​ ​in​ ​a​ ​while​ ​but​ ​here​ ​new​ ​favorite​ ​thing​ ​to​ ​do​ ​is​ ​to​ ​go​ ​swimming​ ​in​ ​the​ ​lake​ ​down​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​trails.​ ​Next​ ​to​ ​Aussie is​ ​one​ ​of​ ​my​ ​favorite​ ​horses,​ ​Dino.​ ​Dino​ ​is​ ​an​ ​18​ ​hand​ ​giant​ ​Warmblood​ ​and​ ​is​ ​ever​ ​pound​ ​of​ ​2,000lbs.​ ​Dino​ ​is​ ​a​ ​dark bay​ ​with​ ​light​ ​dapples​ ​on​ ​his​ ​rear​ ​and​ ​white​ ​socks​ ​on​ ​his​ ​two​ ​front​ ​legs.​ ​Across​ ​from​ ​Dino​ ​is​ ​a​ ​small​ ​Paint​ ​named Mason​ ​who​ ​is​ ​very​ ​vibrant​ ​red​ ​paint​ ​with​ ​one​ ​brown​ ​eye​ ​and​ ​one​ ​blue​ ​eye.​ ​Mason​ ​is​ ​The​ ​youngest​ ​horse​ ​that​ ​i​ ​have at​ ​just​ ​about​ ​3​ ​years​ ​old.​ ​He​ ​is​ ​ridable,​ ​but​ ​is​ ​very​ ​green​ ​and​ ​needs​ ​a​ ​lot​ ​of​ ​help.​ ​Every​ ​one​ ​of​ ​these​ ​horses​ ​holds​ ​a special​ ​place​ ​in​ ​my​ ​heart​ ​and​ ​they​ ​are​ ​all​ ​family​ ​to​ ​Luke​ ​and​ ​I.

"So​ ​you​ ​guys​ ​ready​ ​to​ ​go​ ​now?"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​as​ ​I​ ​enter​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​walking​ ​down​ ​the​ ​line​ ​of​ ​bridles​ ​hooked​ ​to​ ​the wall​ ​and​ ​grabbing​ ​the​ ​black​ ​leather​ ​bridle​ ​with​ ​a​ ​snaffle​ ​bit​ ​on​ ​it​ ​and​ ​a​ ​silver​ ​tag​ ​on​ ​the​ ​brow​ ​band​ ​reading​ ​"Baelfire".​ ​I then​ ​grab​ ​my​ ​saddle​ ​from​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​rack​ ​to​ ​the​ ​left​ ​of​ ​all​ ​the​ ​bridles,​ ​along​ ​with​ ​a​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​and​ ​girth.​ ​"Ash​ ​here has​ ​never​ ​ridden​ ​a​ ​horse,​ ​Nicole"​ ​Michael​ ​says​ ​as​ ​he​ ​grabs​ ​Ashton's​ ​shoulders​ ​and​ ​pushes​ ​him​ ​a​ ​little.​ ​"​ ​He​ ​can​ ​ride Jade!​ ​Where​ ​did​ ​Luke​ ​go,​ ​he​ ​can​ ​help"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​Michael​ ​as​ ​Luke​ ​is​ ​no​ ​where​ ​to​ ​be​ ​found.​ ​As​ ​if​ ​on​ ​queue,​ ​Luke​ ​comes out​ ​of​ ​one​ ​of​ ​the​ ​stalls​ ​and​ ​starts​ ​walking​ ​towards​ ​us.​ ​"Well​ ​i​ ​was​ ​tacking​ ​up​ ​Coal​ ​cause​ ​i​ ​had​ ​a​ ​feeling​ ​you​ ​were gonna​ ​ask​ ​me​ ​to​ ​help​ ​Ash."​ ​Luke​ ​announces​ ​as​ ​he​ ​comes​ ​up​ ​next​ ​to​ ​me​ ​with​ ​all​ ​my​ ​tack​ ​in​ ​my​ ​arm​ ​and​ ​grabs​ ​my saddle​ ​and​ ​places​ ​it​ ​on​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​rack​ ​near​ ​Baelfires​ ​stall.​ ​"​ ​Thank​ ​you,​ ​Baby."​ ​i​ ​say​ ​as​ ​walk​ ​up​ ​to​ ​where​ ​he​ ​was with​ ​my​ ​saddle​ ​and​ ​i​ ​attached​ ​my​ ​lips​ ​to​ ​his.​ ​At​ ​first​ ​it​ ​was​ ​a​ ​soft​ ​kiss​ ​but​ ​then​ ​it​ ​grew​ ​into​ ​more​ ​of​ ​a​ ​kiss.I​ ​started​ ​to

Laugh​ ​into​ ​the​ ​kiss​ ​as​ ​Baelfire​ ​reached​ ​his​ ​head​ ​out​ ​of​ ​the​ ​stall​ ​and​ ​grabbed​ ​Luke​ ​by​ ​his​ ​t-shirt.​ ​Luke​ ​pulled​ ​away from​ ​the​ ​kiss​ ​feeling​ ​the​ ​pressure​ ​of​ ​Baelfire​ ​pulling​ ​on​ ​him​ ​and​ ​once​ ​he​ ​got​ ​his​ ​shirt​ ​free,​ ​he​ ​said​ ​"I​ ​guess​ ​i​ ​have some​ ​competition,​ ​Hey​ ​Baelfire."​ ​Luke​ ​giggled​ ​as​ ​he​ ​scratched​ ​Baelfires​ ​head​ ​and​ ​started​ ​walking​ ​towards​ ​the​ ​tack room.​ ​"What​ ​do​ ​you​ ​want​ ​Jade​ ​in,Nicole?"​ ​Luke​ ​yells​ ​over​ ​his​ ​shoulder​ ​as​ ​he​ ​enters​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room.​ ​"​ ​Throw​ ​her​ ​in​ ​the kimberwick​ ​and​ ​use​ ​Mason's​ ​saddle."​ ​I​ ​yell​ ​as​ ​I​ ​get​ ​a​ ​halter​ ​on​ ​Baelfire​ ​and​ ​pull​ ​him​ ​into​ ​the​ ​aisle,​ ​attaching​ ​him​ ​to the​ ​cross​ ​ties.​ ​"What​ ​the​ ​heck​ ​did​ ​you​ ​just​ ​say?"​ ​Ashton​ ​giggled​ ​as​ ​he​ ​looked​ ​at​ ​me​ ​like​ ​i​ ​had​ ​3​ ​heads.​ ​"It's​ ​the​ ​tack Ash.​ ​Luke​ ​will​ ​show​ ​you."​ ​I​ ​laugh​ ​as​ ​i​ ​return​ ​to​ ​Baelfire​ ​and​ ​start​ ​brushing​ ​him​ ​off.​ ​Calum​ ​and​ ​Michael​ ​come​ ​out​ ​of​ ​the tack​ ​room​ ​with​ ​tack​ ​and​ ​place​ ​them​ ​on​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​racks​ ​that​ ​are​ ​on​ ​the​ ​wall​ ​down​ ​the​ ​aisles.​ ​"Are​ ​you​ ​guys​ ​taking Beck​ ​and​ ​Dino?"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​as​ ​the​ ​walk​ ​down​ ​to​ ​the​ ​end​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn​ ​and​ ​into​ ​stalls.​ ​"Yes,Nicole.​ ​Is​ ​that​ ​a​ ​problem?"​ ​Calum sasses​ ​as​ ​he​ ​gives​ ​me​ ​a​ ​grin​ ​and​ ​enters​ ​Dino's​ ​stall.​ ​"​ ​I​ ​laugh​ ​and​ ​continue​ ​brushing.

​ ​Luke​ ​comes​ ​out​ ​of​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​with​ ​Ashton​ ​in​ ​toe​ ​and​ ​sets​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​down​ ​on​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​rack​ ​with​ ​a​ ​Purple saddle​ ​pad.​ ​I​ ​put​ ​Baelfire's​ ​light​ ​blue​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​on​ ​his​ ​back​ ​along​ ​with​ ​the​ ​saddle.​ ​I​ ​then​ ​attached​ ​the​ ​girth​ ​and tightened​ ​it​ ​on​ ​both​ ​sides.​ ​I​ ​unclipped​ ​Baelfire​ ​from​ ​the​ ​cross​ ​ties​ ​and​ ​slip​ ​the​ ​reins​ ​over​ ​his​ ​head​ ​and​ ​slide​ ​off​ ​his halter.​ ​I​ ​slowly​ ​push​ ​the​ ​bit​ ​in​ ​his​ ​mouth​ ​and​ ​pull​ ​the​ ​crown​ ​piece​ ​over​ ​his​ ​ears​ ​and​ ​adjusted​ ​the​ ​nose​ ​band​ ​and​ ​throat latch.​ ​I​ ​left​ ​the​ ​reins​ ​over​ ​his​ ​neck​ ​and​ ​just​ ​let​ ​him​ ​stand​ ​there​ ​as​ ​I​ ​put​ ​on​ ​his​ ​light​ ​blue​ ​splint​ ​boots.​ ​Once​ ​I​ ​was​ ​all tacked​ ​up.​ ​I​ ​looked​ ​behind​ ​me​ ​to​ ​see​ ​everyone​ ​tacked​ ​but​ ​Ashton.​ ​"Whats​ ​the​ ​hold​ ​up​ ​Luke?"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​as​ ​i​ ​come​ ​up​ ​to Jade's​ ​side.​ ​"Umm,​ ​well​ ​i​ ​can't​ ​find​ ​her​ ​girth"​ ​He​ ​says​ ​as​ ​he​ ​scratches​ ​the​ ​back​ ​of​ ​his​ ​neck​ ​and​ ​looks​ ​around​ ​the​ ​tack room.​ ​I​ ​go​ ​in​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​and​ ​look​ ​under​ ​some​ ​of​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​racks​ ​and​ ​find​ ​the​ ​girth​ ​we​ ​were​ ​looking​ ​for​ ​under​ ​one. It​ ​must​ ​have​ ​fallen​ ​while​ ​we​ ​were​ ​moving​ ​all​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​around.​ ​I​ ​exit​ ​the​ ​tack​ ​room​ ​and​ ​hand​ ​Luke​ ​the​ ​girth​ ​as​ ​he hands​ ​it​ ​to​ ​Ashton,​ ​he​ ​instructs​ ​him​ ​on​ ​how​ ​to​ ​put​ ​it​ ​on.​ ​"Ok.​ ​Ash​ ​so​ ​you​ ​buckle​ ​it​ ​like​ ​a​ ​belt​ ​and​ ​then​ ​you​ ​go​ ​to​ ​the other​ ​side​ ​and​ ​tighten​ ​it​ ​a​ ​bit."​ ​Ashton​ ​does​ ​the​ ​girth​ ​no​ ​problem​ ​and​ ​then​ ​picks​ ​up​ ​the​ ​bridle​ ​from​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​rack​ ​and moves​ ​to​ ​her​ ​head​ ​and​ ​unclips​ ​her​ ​from​ ​the​ ​cross​ ​ties​ ​and​ ​bridles​ ​her.​ ​After​ ​he​ ​is​ ​done​ ​bridling​ ​Jade,​ ​He​ ​puts​ ​on​ ​her purple​ ​splint​ ​boots​ ​and​ ​she​ ​is​ ​all​ ​set​ ​to​ ​go.

We​ ​all​ ​went​ ​outside​ ​with​ ​our​ ​horses​ ​in​ ​one​ ​hand​ ​and​ ​a​ ​helmet​ ​in​ ​the​ ​other.​ ​Michael​ ​led​ ​Beck​ ​out​ ​in​ ​his​ ​dark green​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​and​ ​splints​ ​which​ ​contrasted​ ​perfectly​ ​with​ ​his​ ​light​ ​coat​ ​color.​ ​Calum​ ​came​ ​out​ ​next​ ​with​ ​Dino​ ​in​ ​a Teal​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​and​ ​white​ ​splint​ ​boots,​ ​not​ ​matching​ ​the​ ​teal​ ​because​ ​we​ ​couldn't​ ​find​ ​teal​ ​splints​ ​in​ ​his​ ​size.​ ​​ ​Finally Ashton​ ​and​ ​Luke​ ​come​ ​out​ ​with​ ​Jade​ ​and​ ​Coal​ ​and​ ​join​ ​us​ ​in​ ​the​ ​little​ ​field​ ​in​ ​front​ ​of​ ​the​ ​barn.​ ​Luke​ ​put​ ​Coal​ ​is​ ​a​ ​bark blue​ ​saddle​ ​pad​ ​and​ ​splints,​ ​which​ ​kinda​ ​matched​ ​with​ ​Baelfire​ ​and​ ​I.​ ​Luke,Calum,and​ ​Michael​ ​all​ ​hop​ ​on​ ​their​ ​horses and​ ​put​ ​their​ ​helmets​ ​on.​ ​I​ ​tie​ ​up​ ​Baelfires​ ​reins​ ​and​ ​let​ ​him​ ​nibble​ ​on​ ​some​ ​grass​ ​and​ ​walk​ ​over​ ​to​ ​Ashton​ ​to​ ​help​ ​him get​ ​on.​ ​I​ ​walk​ ​over​ ​to​ ​Jade​ ​and​ ​tighten​ ​her​ ​girth​ ​and​ ​roll​ ​down​ ​her​ ​stirrups.​ ​"Ok​ ​Ash​ ​so​ ​all​ ​you​ ​have​ ​to​ ​do​ ​is​ ​put​ ​your foot​ ​in​ ​the​ ​stirrup​ ​and​ ​pull​ ​your​ ​self​ ​up​ ​into​ ​the​ ​saddle."​ ​I​ ​instructed​ ​as​ ​I​ ​held​ ​on​ ​to​ ​the​ ​stirrup​ ​on​ ​the​ ​right​ ​side​ ​of​ ​the saddle​ ​while​ ​Ashton​ ​was​ ​on​ ​the​ ​left​ ​side.​ ​Ashton​ ​put​ ​his​ ​foot​ ​on​ ​the​ ​stirrup​ ​and​ ​pulled​ ​himself​ ​up​ ​into​ ​the​ ​saddle​ ​like he​ ​had​ ​been​ ​doing​ ​it​ ​for​ ​years.​ ​"We​ ​have​ ​a​ ​natural​ ​here​ ​boys"​ ​Calum​ ​says​ ​as​ ​he​ ​drops​ ​his​ ​reins​ ​and​ ​puts​ ​his​ ​hands up​ ​in​ ​the​ ​air​ ​celebrating​ ​that​ ​Ashton​ ​got​ ​on.​ ​I​ ​adjusted​ ​his​ ​stirrups​ ​for​ ​him​ ​as​ ​well​ ​as​ ​tightening​ ​his​ ​girth​ ​one​ ​last​ ​time and​ ​then​ ​walked​ ​back​ ​over​ ​to​ ​Baelfire.​ ​I​ ​untied​ ​his​ ​reins​ ​and​ ​jumped​ ​on​ ​his​ ​back,​ ​clipping​ ​my​ ​helmet​ ​in​ ​place​ ​before​ ​i adjusted​ ​my​ ​girth​ ​and​ ​stirrups.

When​ ​I​ ​was​ ​finished,​ ​I​ ​asked​ ​"Are​ ​you​ ​ready​ ​boys?"​ ​with​ ​a​ ​nod​ ​from​ ​all​ ​4​ ​boys​ ​we​ ​start​ ​heading​ ​on​ ​the​ ​trail.​ ​I gave​ ​Ashton​ ​a​ ​quick​ ​run​ ​down​ ​on​ ​how​ ​to​ ​ride,​ ​"Ok​ ​Ashton​ ​so​ ​kicking​ ​her​ ​will​ ​make​ ​her​ ​go​ ​forward​ ​and​ ​kicking​ ​her more​ ​after​ ​shes​ ​moving​ ​will​ ​make​ ​her​ ​go​ ​faster.​ ​if​ ​you​ ​want​ ​her​ ​to​ ​stop​ ​pull​ ​on​ ​the​ ​reins.​ ​If​ ​you​ ​want​ ​here​ ​to​ ​turn​ ​pull gently​ ​on​ ​the​ ​rein​ ​in​ ​the​ ​direction​ ​you​ ​want​ ​to​ ​go.​ ​Don't​ ​worry​ ​if​ ​you​ ​have​ ​a​ ​hard​ ​time,​ ​Jade​ ​knows​ ​commands​ ​so​ ​just tell​ ​her​ ​what​ ​too​ ​do.​ ​Got​ ​it?"​ ​I​ ​ask​ ​riding​ ​up​ ​to​ ​Ashton's​ ​side.​ ​He​ ​nods​ ​and​ ​gives​ ​Jade​ ​a​ ​gentle​ ​kick​ ​and​ ​we​ ​were​ ​on our​ ​way.

[jinmukangwrites]

Alone

Summary: They think Wild had no one on his adventures, but they were wrong. Wild had a very special friend. He had a wolf.

-o-o-o-o-

Link wakes up alone. It's suffocating and he wonders how the emptiness of the room around him could make him so claustrophobic. There's a girl in his head, telling him his name and what he must do, but that is all he has. His body seems to move on it's own as he stands from the chamber and does as the voice tells him. He seamlessly walks and moves and opens chests without a single memory of him doing it before. He slips on his shirt and pants and walks out into the world he has never seen before but it all feels so familiar.

Like home.

An old man talks with him and he finds he knows how to talk too, though in a different way. The man speaks and Link lifts his hands and signs without thinking about it. The old man understands instantly and continues on like normal. Link then has an apple, and then he moves on towards the point marked on his slate, fighting strange creatures along the way.

And then his adventures begin.

It all goes by quickly, he journeys into the shrines and comes out a bit stronger easily. He gains new weapons, shields, and even a new tunic meant for the cold weather. He does it all without speaking a word, without single person offering to help besides the old man who has promised him a paraglider.

Eventually, he finishes everything, he learns the real identity of the old man and he discovers his own role into this world he was brought into one hundred years late. He gets his paraglider, ready to begin his journey to Kakariko Village to meet with a woman called Impa.

He remembers, all that time ago, how he stood at the edge of the great plateau, looking at the great horizon, the castle, the volcano, the rivers, the sky, everything and thinking he was responsible to bring justice to the entire land. He remembers jumping off the cliffs and gliding down towards the ground.

He remembers still being incredibly alone.

-o-o-o-o-

He's on his way towards Kakariko Village. The horse he rides neighs happily as he pats her neck. He has just caught her and registered her in the stable. He named her Epona, though he doesn't know why. He's never heard that name before but it sounded right, sounded like the correct name to gift to the strong, chestnut mare.

The forest passes slowly besides him. The weather is cool and the sky is clear. He rubs his stomach, thinking about how filling his last meal was and what he'll have to gather to make the same dish later. He also needs to find apples to give to Epona and find a nice river for water. He let's go of Epona's reigns for a second to glance at the Sheikah Slate. It's mostly black except for the small area he was in. Kakariko Village is just a days ride away, he can get there by the next evening if he pushes Epona a bit harder.

A little notification pops up suddenly at the bottom left of his screen. His eyebrows come together and he looks up at the sky, noticing how the puffy white clouds are slowly but surely turning a dark grey. It is to rain soon. That will slow him down.

He sighs and looks around him, there's cliffs to his side and depending on the wind he can make a comfortable shelter there to avoid getting wet in the incoming storm. The first rain drops begin to fall, making Epona shake her mane in discomfort when they land on her nose. He lets out a half amused snort and jumps off as more rain begins to fall. He guides her over to the cliff and sits back. He has some wood and some flint, he can make a fire and maybe just sleep the storm off. His stomach grumbles and it's Epona's turn to made an amused snort. He glares at her, signing that he's going to eat her apples, and she seems to either understand the threat or just not care about it because all she does is roll her eyes and bend down to nibble on the grass.

Link is lucky, the wind was blowing in such a way that his little spot by the cliff is completely dry as he sets up the fire. He pulls out some fox meat and begins to roast it with an old Bokoblins Spear as the sky darkens with the clouds and the setting sun. He wishes he had a bowl so he could add seasoning to the meat, but for now he'll have to settle. Beggars can't be choosers.

He pulls out a small bag of apples and stands to give Epona some food. She eats the fruits out of his hands with content whinnies and soft hooves kicking at the ground. The smell of meat overcomes the smell of rain around the time Epona is satisfied with her meal. He grabs an apple for himself and is about to sit down and check the meat when suddenly a branch snaps in the darkness.

With no hesitation, he grabs the sword at his back and holds it out in front of him. He glares at the shadows, searching for movement in the darkness. Epona makes a nervous huff through her nose.

The only thing he sees is what is illuminated by the orange glow of fire, so he attempts to go by sound. That turns up fruitless when the only noises that meet his ears is the patter of rain and the crackle of fire.

He's about to chalk it up to be his imagination when another snapping twig catches his attention, making his ears twitch. He spins around, senses on high alert, towards where the noise comes from and his breath catches in his throat when he sees a creature too big to be a fox, yet too small to be a bear. It's form is cloaked in darkness, from it's dark fur and from the shadows it's hiding in, yet he can see it resembles more of a dog from the stables; however, he knew this isn't a dog, this is something wilder.

He shifts and it's eyes flash with the light of the fire. He can hear it panting through it's large snout. It lifts a giant paw and steps forward and Link growls at it, lifting his sword ever higher. Epona stomps her hooves nervously behind him. It stops and blinks, tilting its head as if to say "what are you doing that for?" before it lets out a small whine. It's eyes travel down to the hand that isn't holding the sword, but the apple. It blinks as it's gaze traveled to the fire behind Link, where the fox is still roasting.

Link swallows and thinks maybe the creature is just hungry. He looks down at his apple and throws it a few feet away. The animal makes an excited bark and chases after the apple, biting into it with enthusiasm.

With his now free hand, he moves it to his chest and moves his fingers up and down. Hungry?

The creature finishes the apple with gusto and begins to pad towards Link. Epona makes a scared whinny and Link plants his feet into the ground, trying to look threatening. Yet, the creature seems to roll its eyes as it walks straight at him. Link knows he should attack the creature. It's teeth are sharp and it's big enough to maybe make a horse it's prey, but something stops him from doing so; maybe it's eyes that are much too wise to belong to any creature, or maybe it's the almost familiar personality of it. He doesn't know. All he knows is that he's completely still as the creature fully reveals itself in the light of the fire and bumps it's head against Links leg affectionately.

It's fur is as black as twilight, or most of it is. It has a green mane and tail and he finds as it turns over onto its back, yapping at him, that it has a white underbelly. It's fur is decorated with beautiful white designs that look almost painted on, too unnatural to be it's natural fur.

Link doesn't think before he let's the sword down and kneels down next to the creature. He slowly puts his hand down on it's belly and rubs the soft fur. It whines with content and wiggles closer so Link is petting it with both his hands, a smile tearing at his face.

He instantly adopts this strange creature as apart of his terribly small family, because there is something about it that says "you're not alone anymore, cub."

-o-o-o-o-

It's a wolf, Link discovers later. And a "he". The word comes to him randomly just like the sign, a clawing motion at his face. Link doesn't have a name for the wolf that intends to travel with him, but the wolf doesn't seem to mind. Link soon finds himself calling the creature what it is; Wolf.

Wolf travels everywhere with Link, even the places where Epona cannot follow. Epona at first didn't like to watch Link and Wolf go off on their own, but soon she too was melting for the gentle creature, enough so to share her apples with him when it came time to eat.

Wolf sits and watches as Link lifts his sword and practices against a tree, sometimes he seems to want to join in whenever Link stumbles or makes a wrong move. Yet he doesn't, he just growls like he was telling him to do it again. Wolf taught Link how to hunt, using the wind to his advantage. He sat with Link and let him cry against his fur whenever a nightmare he couldn't remember wakes him up, he seems to know exactly how to curl around Link at those nights to make him feel safe. He fights with Link, making sure every Bokoblin or Moblin are dead on the ground before he allows Link to pillage. He sits by Link when he finds a place where his memories lay, and it comforts him with a head against Links hand when the memory is too much.

It falls into a beautiful pattern and Link doesn't remember the loneliness he had felt back when he first woke up. He has Wolf, and Wolf will never leave him except for the times he knows Link must go in alone. Yet he will sit and wait patiently for Link to leave the Divine Beasts or the shrines and jump at him, licking his face, when Link does return victorious.

Link didn't think that would ever change, not even after so many months. Not even as he stands at the castle gates, ready to fulfill his destiny with the Master Sword in hand. Yet, he stands there now and Wolf has a sad look in his eyes, saying the Link has to go in alone. Saying that they will never meet again.

Link can't stop the tears from falling from his eyes as Wolf looks up at him sadly, as if saying goodbye. He bends down and rubs Wolf's ears with one hand and wipes at his eyes with the other. Wolf whines and stands up, he walks over and presses his whole body against Links legs as his own little goodbye. His own hug.

Link knows it's time to go, and he turns before he could hesitate. Zelda has waited long enough, she doesn't deserve to be kept waiting longer just because Link couldn't handle a goodbye with a wolf. He walks and opens the gates with his slate and he's a few steps in when he turns one last time. Wolf is sitting proudly, staring at him with his wise eyes as he begins to materialize into the air in the form of black particles. In moments, Wolf is gone, back to wherever he came from.

Link is alone.

-o-o-o-o-

Link doesn't trust the people in front of him. He doesn't trust most anyone but he has learned the faces of his world, and he has never seen these ones before.

They're all shades of blond with various lengths of pointed ears, but each look almost the same, like someone had taken a painting and repainted it in their own style in a multitude of times.

"You're name is Link?" One asked, he was taller than most in their group, yet not the tallest. He seemed the most stocky, yet Link can tell that it isn't fat on his body, but muscles. A white cloth stuck out from the rest of his garments, wrapped around his neck like a cape. "You can call me, Sky-"

"What do you want?" Link demanded, his voice raw and scratchy. It's been a year since the fall of Calamity Ganon and Zelda has been helping him with his speech, but he's still not very good at it. He prefers to sign, but that's hard to do when you're pointing a bow armed with multiple arrows at a group of people.

The wind blows lazily in Hyrule Field as the group of strangers looked at each other, trying to come up with some sort of explanation.

"You're Hylia's chosen hero, yeah?" Another asks, a blue scarf wraps around his neck. "That's the Master Sword?"

Link had only heard so much about Hylia, he mostly just knew of her from his small prayers to get more strength at the statues. He doesn't know what they mean by being her chosen hero, but he does wield the Master Sword. The comment on his sword makes him get into an even more defensive stance, people commenting on his hero status and his sword usually end up being Yiga.

"You have five seconds to surrender, traitors," Link growls as he pulls his bow string further back. The group tenses and reach for their own weapons, though none is drawn. "Before I destroy you all."

The oldest one steps forward suddenly and Link let's an arrow fly, landing right at the feet of the man. He doesn't even flinch. "Listen, you are part of an ever turning cycle of heroes. Surely you have heard of past… incarnations of chosen heroes."

Link steps back and reloads his bow. He has heard of that, mostly just stories and fairy tales. The sword alone is proof enough of past heroes. "Why?" He asks.

"Because, something is happening," another voice adds, this one looks older than most the group. His hair is dark compared to the rest and he looks like he grew up in a tribe instead of a city. There are strange markings on his face. "Something is bringing us all together, Link. We're all… heroes. All of us are Link."

Link studies the stranger. He looks sincere, genuine. Yiga Clan members usually give up after a few sentences at keeping a disguise. None would keep up the facade this long. Link's eyes travel up and rests on the person's face. His eyes… they're familiar.

Something flashes in the back of his mind, a small creature he hasn't seen for such a long time. Eyes, so wise and kind. The marking on the wolf's forehead… are the same as the man before him.

Wild stumbles back as if he's been shot by an arrow. The bow drops from his hand as he recognizes the stranger… the friend in front of him.

Before he can even think of it, his hand goes up to his face and goes outward as if creating a long snout. Wolf… a human version of him… looks at him with confusion but seems to relax since Link has dropped his bow.

The others smile and relax too, thinking that they had succeeded at convincing Link, but he had his eyes trained on Wolf… on-

"I'm Twilight, by the way," Twilight says, stepping forward and holding out his hand hesitantly.

And it's at that moment, that Wild knows he will never be alone again.

[covenforegone]

The first list, first edit.

So, heres a general list of Characters for the blog, might change later:

Mlp:

•->Covin(deciet/fraud): a Diamond-dog who was taught(tricked) into making a neat little trinket, a staff able to strip a user of their abilities(such as sculpting, writing, drawing, painting ect) and grant them extreme skill in spell craft using them as a manifestation.

Prone to poorly thought out plans, and now only able to dig or break stone with his latent magic, Covin's often relegated to defending the Den, a task not looked highly upon for the short lifespan of most. This has left the cheerful hound easily depressed and eager to please, almost too kind for his own good amongst the Den's workers.

Despite not being willing to use it, the staff forged of Covin's power makes him a deceptively powerful foe when given reason to fight, and a decidedly pragmatic one at that.

Covin's 5'11, about 170 lbs(Diamond-Dog arms are heavy) and looks like a cross of a German Shepard and Husky in solid grey with a darker back. He's very fluffy, kinda scrawny and high strung, despite still being strong enough to hold his own, even if it's only in willpower.

•->Wax Light: An Earth-pony mare hodling another artifact, though she knew what she was was getting into. She's got a waxy-white coat, cobalt eyes and matching mane, and carries a pair of iron torches that spawn an endless supply of tallow and fire under her control. She's often called cold, but has a fiery personality once she warms up to you.(badum-tsch)

One of the students of the Iron Isles' magics, her chubby physique hides an awe inspiring mage and competent warrior, though her position as a free agent sometimes hampers that. Cynical and not one to indulge in her desires, Wax searches for magic of interest; be it in book, scroll, spoken word or potion;often to her detriment.

Wax is 6'3, 168 lbs, sporting a DD bust and ample hips, a layer of pudge and floof hiding a well trained fighter and a skilled pyromancer.

•->Derel 'Entrophy' Iction: an ancient Automaton in the form of a Bird-folk(think the Mlp:FiM movie) re-activated by the 'teacher' of Wax Light and Covin.

A dedicated flyer, courtesy of 'upgrades' from the selfsame person, and captain of a small Buccaneer craft named the Gale Cleaver, Derel has made his mark as a servant of the 'Iron Isles' military; if not a Rainbow Dash-esqe ome in his often lazing work ethic. Personally fond of a boarding axe belonging to his previous owners collection, a still active tool akin to those of Wax and Covin. The axe is able to collapse and fold into the mechanisms of his arm and cut most materials with high pressure winds, and Derel's power supply is a jewel based on the magical dominion of Entropy*1, which basically makes things break on demand.

Derel's a solid 7'8 and weighs over 1000 pounds due to his construction, and takes the appearance of an armored peacock/long tailed widow bird, with the latter's colors being dominant in the paint and tempering of his metal.

•->Avarice, Spirit Of Greed and Gluttony; not a world warper like Discord but a conjurer of sorts, and only a fraction of the power of the greater spirit. Currently manifested as a Storm Beast standing 8'8 and weighing 357 Lb's.

Avarice is arguably not an ally to the Isles nor any other group; if you have something they want, they'll take it by force or manipulation no matter the cost. Notable is that the form of Avarice changes based on the individual they've put power into, the most recent being a (seemingly normal) Storm Beast of beanstalk proportions and wearing armor rusted through and carrying a bag of holding.

Currently weaker magically then normal with the death of the Storm King amd the disolving of his forces, Avarice seeks a new host not only to bolster their strength but to trap in their own desire's. Whether this helps, pleases, or even leaves the person alive depends on what they want.

•->Winter Shrike, Equestrian athelete and advertiser, Kirin.

Coat color is snow white, mane and tail are light grey while the scales on her back are a cobalt blue.

Weight: 130 lbs

Height: 5'10

Typically bubbly, though certainly not stupid, Winter shows persistance in cheating her diets and generally enjoying life, even at the expense of her body guard and staff's patience. Harbors a fascination with growth of all kinds though she isn't keen on others being the instigator.

•->Gregor Knightly, Body guard, Conjurer of the 8th(out of ten) Order and childhood friend of Winter Shrike, Kirin.

Coat is dark grey, mane orange and scales black.

Weight: 154 lbs

Height: 6'2

Raised by Griffons and showing the same detached indifference and (lesser so) greed as his adoptive species, Gregor(adoption papers didn't have the 'Y') favors conjured armor and weapons, specifically twin, three-curved staffs capable of generating blades at will. Calm, cool and trying far to hard to be like a movie bodyguard, Gregor is often chasing Winter down after she decided to ditch him and the other staff to go adventuring.

->• Amble, Earth-pony, general wanderer doing odd jobs, with a penchent for larger women;

Coat is navy blue, eyes are orange, mane/tail are teal.

Height: 5'10

Weight: 135 lbs

Wanderer, generally laid back and a decent brawler, Ambling Way tends to blend in, for better or worse. Though be wary, like most Pony's with vague talents he has a habit of making others...suggestiable and laid back.

Pokemon:

•-> Hella/Cerber, a Houndour/Houndoom available in Hyper busty Futa or hyper cock maledepending on personal taste.

Height: 5'8/7'1

Weight: 224 lbs- 436lbs(mostly assets)

A proud, dominent futa or a shy, easily embaressed hyper, eager to tease and be pleased by those too weak willed to fight against her urgings and orders, or a hyper who'd love a good time if only he had the confidence to approach it(and a way to keep the massive dong in check).

Size is negotiable as everyone has prefrences.

•-> Armelia, hyper busty, lactating Armaldo with a decent urge to use those tits to get what she wants, and maybe grow with whatever sap drinks her milk.

Height: 7'8

Weight: 240-336 lbs(starting size drained and full)

Sporting an eager to please attitude masking a need to be in charge, this Armaldo has access to the move Milk Drink and will use it as often as she needs to keep other's under her claw; even if it means she's a few dozen cup and pants sizes larger after the fact. Tends to try and beat opponents in the ring, and mooch, off of the people foolish enough to drink her milk.

•-> Pieza(pie-zah), a bottom heavy Galvantula with a love for spelunking and ruin-crawling, and getting stuck in lewd situation.

Height: 5'6

Weight: 260 lbs

Sporting a pair of hips and a butt fit to block a hallway with matching thighs and buggy abdomen, Pieza doe's her best to get into every nook and cranny the earth has to offer; if her bottom doesn't land her as some cults idol or stuck between a pair of pillars in an abandoned city while it's looted clean.

Geneal Anthro:

•-> Telmach, Mustang Necromancer with a love of fine coats and gloves.

Coat is chestnut with black sock marking's and black hooves, while his mane is (dyed/magically colored) while with a pair of black streaks.

Height: 5'11

Weight: 180 lbs(normally)

Cruel, hot tempered and all to happy to just graft another limb in place when ones lost, Telmach takes great pride in making pets of those he hates and spoiling the ones who get on his good side; whether they want it or not.

•-> Kelmeed 'The Draft Horse', Half Clydesdale Mercenary, disgraced knight.

Height: 6'4

Weight: 233 lbs

Slow, lumburing and a fan of shield and (jousting) lance, Kelmeed appears to be a brute and nothing more; and this lets him show his skill is more then just trampling all before him. Shrewd and quite thoughtful when he speaks, Kelmeed is a good friend to have, and a horrid foe to face.

(Has connections to Telmach, though he only knows inklings, and Telmach couldn't care less)

*1 This is the entire reason he was found, reactivation and subsiquent upgrades were agreed on once it was realized removing it would destroy both the jewel and automaton.

[strawberrymeriadoc]

Eowyn and Merry go Horseback Riding

The next morning the sky was dark and gray. A strong wind was blowing and threatening to take a few branches down. Merry could hear constant sirens off in the distance. The outside seemed to match how he felt on the inside fairly well. Merry lay back down and Peony jumped onto the bed, pacing around until Merry pulled her into the crook of his arm. She was purring loudly, but her tail whacked him in the stomach repeatedly. Merry realized with excitement that he’d finally get to go riding today. He looked at the time and realized Eowyn would be arriving in about an hour so he had better go and eat breakfast. 

As he stood up, Peony leapt onto the floor and took off to her scratching post in the hallway. Merry hated breakfast. In fact, he hated eating. Making food felt like a chore and the texture as he ate was at worst repulsive and at best monotonous. Except for a few dishes from Harad he occasionally saved up for, Merry disliked almost all foods. But he was hungry, and that feeling wouldn’t go away on its own. He decided to bite the bullet and make some oatmeal. An acceptable texture if a monotonous one. And fairly tasteless but at least warm. 

As usual, Pippin was still asleep. If Merry listened closely, he could hear Pippin’s soft snores. It comforted him to know that his friend was sleeping well. Merry ate, got dressed, and brushed his teeth. He also loathed getting ready for the day. It felt like a lot of work and as he tried to do it, his body felt like it was trying to walk through water. Brushing his teeth meant he’d end up looking in the mirror and there wasn’t anything comforting about that. Though, today, Merry thought his hair at least looked nice.  He grabbed his boots, helmet, and some water and waited for his friend to arrive. 

Eowyn was just grabbing her things and heading out the door. She was in the dissertation stage of her PhD and was no longer taking classes and so was still getting used to the new rhythm of being much more self-directed with her studies. But it suited her. Eowyn had always been a rather independent worker and school studies were no exception. One place she could count on a sense of community was the stables. She didn’t have as much time as she liked, but she would ride a couple times a week. On Fridays, she would take a short jog out of her way to pick up one of her best friends. 

Eowyn made her way down the busy street. It was packed with pedestrians, bike riders, and the occasional electric car. It was rather hot and sunny and only a few small clouds could be seen in the pale blue sky. Finally, she turned onto Merry’s side street. I wonder if Pippin will still be asleep. Maybe he’d like to come along, she thought. She came up to the door and knocked. The sudden knock startled Merry even though he was expecting Eowyn. He leapt up and went to the door. 

“Hello! Would you like anything here or are you ready to head straight there?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Brought my water.”

“Great”

“Pippin still asleep is he?”

“Yup! And will be for some time most likely.”

The two made their way down the spiraling streets of Minas Tirith to the main gate eventually coming to the horse stables just outside on the Fields of Pelennor.  It was still windy and grey, but less so than in the morning. Merry could see several riders in a ring further off. There was a chestnut colored horse, a dappled white and black one, and an all black horse with white markings on its feet. 

The friends then went to the tack room to grab their saddles and bridles. Merry wondered where Theoden was. He went and said hello to his horse. Sorin was very happy to see him, or at least, that’s how Merry interpreted his head butts. He led the horse outside the stable, mounted it and rode to the ring. Theoden was just sending off a pupil who had finished their lesson. 

As the two friends rode up, their instructor greeted them: “Hi, Eowyn. Welcome back, Merry. Are you feeling any better?”  

“Much better today,” Merry replied. The two students began their warm up together, circling the ring first walking and then trotting. Eowyn, who was a more experienced rider, began working on cantering with her horse. Merry went to the center of the ring both to get out of her way and also to pick up where he had left off on jumping. Theoden was still setting up the last cross rail jump--there were three in a row and each was a little higher than the one before. Merry felt daunted. 

“You’ve got this, Merry!” called Eowyn as she rode past. Merry smiled and grasped the reins firmly. Even though he was nervous, Merry reminded himself that he was here because he wanted to be, and this was supposed to be fun. For once, he shouldn’t be scared or make a chore out of it. 

“Alright, lad, are you ready?” 

“Yes!” Merry replied, perking up at being gendered correctly. Taking a breath in, Merry kicked Sorin gently to go forward, the two gained speed and made for the first jump. 

This one was fairly low and Sorin had only to lift his legs a little higher than a step to go over it. Merry made it over with ease. The second one was the same height as the one that had caused him trouble the last time he went riding. But Merry looked confidently ahead and the horse made a short jump successfully over that too. Finally, the third jump was higher than anything Merry had gone over before. But he sized it up, grasped Sorin’s mane in preparation, and leaned forward. They made it over, but Sorin knocked over one of the two beams making up the cross jump. 

“Good!” Theoden called, making his way over to set up the third jump again, “Now that you have a sense of the height, you should be able to make it over cleanly this time. Try it again.”

Merry led Sorin back to the beginning of the set and then spurred the horse on. The two made it over all the jumps without knocking any over. Theoden smiled. 

“Alright, try it one more time. I’ll set each a little higher” he said as Merry rode by him. Merry waited for Theoden to finish setting up. Just then Eowyn came up to Theoden and asked what she should work on. 

After they had talked a moment, Theoden turned to the boy, “I need to go set up Eowyn’s jumps, Merry. Go over these a few times while I’m gone” Merry agreed and went back to the front of the set. He and Sorin went over all three jumps again. Each time was a little easier than the last. Finally, after going through about five times, Theoden told him to trot several laps. 

As he was going around the ring, Merry focused on looking forward so as to not lead the horse the wrong way. But Eowyn’s jumps were so high and impressive, he couldn’t help but catch glimpses of her out of the corner of his eye. After a while, Theoden seemed to have guessed Merry’s thoughts and beckoned for him to come back to the center to watch Eowyn for the rest of the lesson. 

When Eowyn was finished, the two  students led their horses back to the stables in order to groom them. Merry found grooming to feel soothing. He liked to brush the horse’s sides in little circles and to carefully pick dirt out of the hooves. He struggled to reach the mane, but he enjoyed combing the tail. Sorin loved all the attention. Eowyn stood near Merry grooming her own horse, Freya. 

“That one jump you did with the two fences really close together was amazing!” 

“Oh, thank you! That’s a fun one.” 

“What’s it called?” 

“A bounce. It can be just two close together or more in a row. I’ll probably go for three in a row soon.” 

Merry grasped at Sorin’s mane but could only reach the bottom of it. He looked around for something to step on. 

“Would you like me to help?” Eowyn asked, noticing his predicament. 

“No, that’s alright. I’d really like to do it myself. Though, if you see something I could step up on, I’d appreciate it,” Merry responded. Eowyn went out of the stable and brought the same step stool Merry used to get on the horse. Then Merry was able to finish the mane and also brush Sorin’s back. 

Afterwards, Eowyn and Merry walked around the Fields. Merry smoked his pipe thoughtfully while Eowyn excitedly told him about her research. Merry didn’t understand much of it as he understood very little of political science. Although they had some overlap in their studies--both focused heavily, though in Eowyn’s case not exclusively, on Rohan--Merry came at it from a much more historical approach. He didn’t think there was anything superior about this approach, it was just something that made more sense to him. Eowyn focused especially on the social problems (and reforms) of working women in Rohan, Gondor, and Mordor. 

What the two did have in common in their research was a desire to make Middle Earth a better place and to especially help those disadvantaged by cis-patriarchal systems. This was something they greatly admired in each other though neither admitted it openly. Merry’s way of appreciating her work was to ask about it often and show as much support as he knew how. 

Eowyn’s way of appreciating Merry’s work in supporting him with her knowledge and her presence. As a more experienced student, she often walked him through the finer points of navigating the University and general academic pedantism. And she had vowed to herself to come to any conferences or panels or other things he might be involved in on campus or around Gondor. Eventually the sun threatened to go down shortly and the two decided to make their way back up to the City

[thorne93]

To Protect and Serve (Part 2)

Prompt: Imagine Bucky Barnes being hired as your personal body guard, but things don’t go as you or your family anticipates.

Word Count: 1735

Warnings: Language (possibly, probably not, but possibly), some violence, traumatic memories/events

Notes: Collab work with my BFFFFLLL Bee @amarvelouswritings This was an idea that hit us both and we just took off with it. We hope you enjoy it as much as we loved drafting this.

Forever Tags: @amarvelouswritings​ @cocosierra94​ @essie1876​ @magpiegirl80​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527​ @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification​ @thejulesworld​ @rda1989​ @marvelloushamilton @munlis​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @bubblyanarocks3​ @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn​ @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername

Sebastian Stan Tag: @nedthegay​ @lostinspace33​  @alwayshave-faith​ @elleatrixlestrange​ @buenostardissherlock​ @lenawiinchester​ @the-red-world-of-jess-chibi​

To Protect and Serve Tag: @scamanddaaamn

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first week was absolutely easy. I checked every room before you entered, I watched over you as you read, ate, played, and sometimes even slept. I stood outside your quarters to make sure you weren’t disturbed. You appeared even more childlike than I presumed, but it wasn’t immaturity by any level. You were a free spirit, but bold. When someone told you you couldn’t do something, you proved them wrong and impressed them. It wasn’t a spiteful action, it was a message that you shouldn’t be underestimated.

On my seventh night, you were reading in the study when you suddenly said, “What do you say we get a midnight snack?”

“Are you sure we should?” I asked.

“It’s my home, I’ll eat what I want.” You popped that adorable smile at me and I couldn’t refuse. I lead the way down to the kitchen where the staff was cleaning the kitchen, prepping food for tomorrow’s breakfast, and stocking the pantry.

You ran up to a table with decadent treats that were reserved for a party tomorrow. You grabbed a plate and threw a handful of chocolate truffles, petit fours, and cookies on it.

“What are you doing?” I demanded in a hushed whisper as I glanced around to the busy chefs and maids. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

“Nonsense, James, it’ll be fine. They can always make more. It’s just a handful. Come now,” you ordered, and I had to obey. I had to be just like your shadow.

You skipped through the palace back to your room and invited me inside.

“Come! Sit!” you asked politely, still giggling from your swipe.

“Are you sure it’s okay to have these?”

“James, we took a handful of sweets from a boring party tomorrow. I promise you, they won’t be missed.”

“Bucky,” I clarified.

“Hmm?” you hummed, a mouthful of chocolate strawberry.

“I go by Bucky. My birth name is James, but my friends call me Bucky.”

“So I’m a friend, eh?” you questioned, a hint of mischief in your voice. “If I’m a friend, you won’t mind sharing this plate of sweets with me then?” You gestured to the plate between us on the bed.

“I don’t mind helping you, no,” I answered with a laugh.

-----------------

Over the course of the next few weeks, we had grown close. It was impossible not to. We spent every waking moment together, and some not awake, with me watching outside your bedroom. I found out you loved painting, mainly water colors, and I often joined you on the veranda to paint various scenes. It was serene, watching you paint, watching you in general. You confided in me that one day you wanted to be in politics much like your father. You were definitely a daddy’s girl. Your sister was much more like your mother, from what I could tell, and your brother was like a younger version of your father.

The summer was still so beautiful, that your family decided to relocate to the country cottage that you all owned. The fresh air was needed by all in the family. One late afternoon, you asked me to take you to the stables, to see your horse.

“His name is Lightning,” you explained as you brushed him, donning riding attire.

“Why is that?” I pondered as I glanced around the barn, going in and out of the tack rooms, checking horse stalls.

“He’s the fastest horse we’ve ever owned. I know he’s just a chestnut, but he’s an impeccably fast steed.”

“He’s very handsome,” I admired. His coat was a rich brown, glossy and sheeny, his mane and tail were three shades lighter, an almost pale caramel color. Right above his hooves was white fur. He reminded me of a horse we had in the war; that horse was a really good gelding.

“Thank you. I intend to get him back into showing.”

“You used to show him?”

“Absolutely. In my teens I did trick riding, we showed him at pageants. I wanted to enter him in racing but father said it was too risky.”

“That it is.”

“Why don’t you get out Forrest and we’ll go for a ride?” you asked as you started to grab a saddle.

“I’m not so sure. I’m suppose to keep an eye on you.”

“And you are, you’ll be with me the entire time,” you confirmed while you started to get the horse ready.

“As you wish,” I obliged. By now, I knew you were destined to have your way. I saddled the black and white steed in one of the stalls and we slowly trotted out of the barn where you and I mounted our respective horses. We were walking along slowly on them, enough to get past a few trees in next to the barn, where we were no longer visible by anyone that may have entered the barn.

“You wanna race?” you offered...well, more like challenged.

“I’m not sure I know how.”

“It’s easy, just do this,” you thumped the horse’s side and he took off like a bullet.

“Y/N! Wait! I have to be next to you at all times!” I shouted as I tried to catch up to you.

“Then you better keep up!” you called over your shoulder, your hair flying behind you wildly as you galloped far ahead of me.

“Y/N!” I called again, slightly agitated with you, but of course, I was actually thrilled.

You were laughing as I chased you, never able to catch up to you and your wickedly fast steed. We ran the horses far, for a long time, before we finally came across a pond and you hopped down to let them get some water.

“What kind of stunt was that?” I demanded. “If you got out of my sight and something happened to you, your father would have my head.”

“Oh calm down, Bucky. It’s all in good fun,” you answered, brushing your pants off. “I would never let my father do that to you.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” I noted, a little harsh. “But the fact remains, you ran off. Please don’t do it again.”

“Why? Can’t bear the thought of me out of your sight?” you teased as you sat on the grass and laid back. I scanned the perimeter, listening and looking hard, observing the horses, nothing seemed alarming, so I sat down next to you.

I could have told you right there, admitted everything. But I knew I wasn’t ready. And maybe you weren’t ready to know either. There was something about the way the breeze was picking up your hair, blowing your scent in my direction… it was intoxicating.

“Bucky?” you offered again. You smiled and I knew I had been caught dwelling in my own thoughts.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” I felt myself tune back into the conversation, though I never felt like I lost tune with you.

“Where’d you go?” you laid back on the grass and looked up at the clouds. You had a childlike innocence about you in that moment and to be honest, I was afraid of telling you the truth about the things that plagued me.

It was not something I openly shared. My past, the Winter Soldier, was a curse. Sure in ways, Hydra saved my life. But they stole it in just as many ways. In turn, I stole lives. I was told, over and over, that I was making the world safer. But those were all lies they fed to me. They broke me.

I wasn’t sure if you were ready to know everything. But with my growing feelings for you, it was something I had to share. If you ever loved me back, you had to know me, the real me.

“Did your father tell you anything about me? About--about who I am?” The words came stuttering out of my mouth. It wasn’t something I was used to.

“No. should he have?” Your eyes moved to me. There was a curiosity in your eyes: one that made me feel safe enough to tell you about my past.

I explained where--and when-- I was born. I told you about Steve, hoping it would ease the blow of the next words I shared. “The Germans, they tried to recreate the serum that was used on Steve and it worked, well enough to preserve a bit of my life, make me strong and fast and so I can’t ever age, not really.”

You took everything in stride, an understanding yet questioning look on your face. I could tell you wanted to know more, but admitting the things in my past wasn’t easy.

“They took me. I wasn’t me anymore. They used me as a weapon to mold the world into what they wanted it to be. I’ve killed a lot of people.” My eyes never met yours as I spoke, which both scared and excited me. “Your father is aware. He knows my skills and he trusts them, and me, to take care of you.”

You sat, worrying your lip with your teeth as you thought.

“That isn’t me though, any more. I understand if you’re scared of me--”

“Scared of you? Why on Earth would I be scared of you? Are you going to hurt me?” you questioned.

“No,” I breathed immediately. “I could never hurt you.”

“Then why should I be worried? Bucky...What those men did to you was awful, they brainwashed you...but that doesn’t make you a bad person any more than it does a normal soldier going off to fight battle. They kill because they’re told to...so were you.”

“That’s…incredibly insightful,” I responded, never really looking at it that way. “But I’m a highly trained assassin. I get...up close and personal with a lot of the kills I did. That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why should it?” you wondered. “I don’t see you as any different. You’re just like men in black ops or the secret armies. You’re just honest about it.”

You shrugged and I couldn’t believe this. I knew you were resilient, but this was another level. You much reminded me of a hardy flower. Beautiful to look at, and with the right care and attention, you thrived and flourished, but too much attention and it wilted. You could weather storms and the cold, and still look radiant. I adored that about you.

[roseravenkey]

Rider Challenge #3: The Beach

I’m not doing too badly for my first day on the beach this year. I was afraid last year, now I’m just cautious. I know the perils of the beach, as do most of the islanders. Those who don’t are quickly made aware. 

I watch the chaos of the beach from the top of the cliffs for a second. I see a mass of capaill of all colours dragging their jockeys and dealers around in the sand, which is bloodstained in more than a few places where fight shave broken out. The fights are mostly at the South end of the beach. Okay. I think. We’ll stick to the North end, Sleipnir. My stallion of course hears none of this as he shifts beside me, the bells carefully tied to his fetlocks with dark green ribbons shimmer gently as he moves. The bells are to remind me to stay focused. He’s not a fairground pony, he’s not even one of Malvern’s flighty thoroughbreds. He’s a capall uisce. He’s not jittery yet, but he will be. The bells remind me to watch mine and his movements at all times. I could very easily become capall bait today. I sigh and head down the path to the chaos on the beach, Sleipnir in tow. I loop my hand through the noseband of his leather bridle to stop him lunging at other capaill who get too close. We pass some of the fights as we make our way to the Northern end of the beach. It’s not quiet here by any means, just less fights between capaill and whatever is unfortunate enough to get in its way. Sleipnir prances next to me  every time we pass a fight between capaill. I tug his bridle and drag him with me so we can finally reach the Northern end of the beach.

I relax my hold on Sleipnir’s bridle, just holding onto his leadrope now, like when we were on the cliffs. I admire my stallion in the few seconds we have to breathe. He really is beautiful. Tall and slender, but with plenty of muscle. Light feathering on the legs that move when he walks. His long, jet black mane and tail are gorgeous! All wavy and when the wind blows, it moves like seaweed under the surface of a rockpool. This morning I took out the box of capaill “decorations” as Dad calls them. He gave them to me and Sebs as we moved out. Small, round, silver bells and sets of different coloured ribbons. Dad never threw his ribbons out. He kept all of them from every capall he had. I took one look at Sleipnir and knew he would have to have dark, emerald green ribbons. So I went to Skarmouth and bought some. Two metres of beautiful ribbon to do what I pleased with it. I took the bells off their old salt-stained ribbons and looped them through my new green ones. This morning, before coming out to the beach I got up early to groom Sleipnir. I cleaned every speck of dirt off that beast before working on untangling his beautiful mass of mane and tail. The tail I left alone once I’d got rid of all the knots, but his mane is too pretty to resist playing with. I pampered this man eater like he was a shetland at a riding school pony club. I put in a few small braids, some with ribbons and bells in, some without. It was very simple, but it looked amazing. I’m snapped out of my daze as another capall turns to look at us and Sleipnir hisses and goes to lunge at it before I snatch his bridle in my cold hand and check him by pulling his face sharply towards me before he can do anything else. “No.” I snarl, staring directly at him. (Something I’d never do with a capall I didn’t know.) I felt him relax and rewarded him with a neck scratch and by releasing my hold on his nose. 

We’re not riding today. We’re just getting a feel for the beach after last year, hence the reason why Sleipnir doesn’t wear a saddle. Just a bridle with a leadrope threaded through the bit to keep him in check. We both look around at the raucous mass of bodies around us. Both of us are surprisingly serene. We’re there for a couple of hours, just acclimatising ourselves to the beach again, when I hear a voice shout “Tessa!” Sleipnir seems to recognise my name anywhere and his head shoots up in the air as he screams at whoever dares to approach me. Just as he starts to let out his wail I say, “You stupid moron. It’s just Sebs!” and whack him on the neck. He stops and lowers his head to my height as my brother approaches us. He has a slight limp still, though he insists it doesn’t bother him I can tell it does at times.

“Hey Tessie!” He says warmly, ruffling my hair.

“Hello, Moron.” I grumble. My ponytail had withstood the wind until Sebastian came along and messed it up. Now it’s blowing across my eyes in the most annoying way, where I can hardly see. Sebs continues as though he didn’t know I was annoyed, but I saw him smirking as I look up at him. He is a good big brother for sure, but he could be so annoying!

“So I came to tell you that I’m hungry and couldn’t wait any longer for you to come home for dinner.” He says.

“You know, you are allowed to eat without me.” I replied, as we start making our way back to the path leading off the beach, me holding Sleipnir’s noseband again. Both of us pretended not to notice the gore left on the beach by the fights between capaill and man. A few horses made it back to the sea today with full bellies. 

“Yeah, but I hate eating alone, you know that, little sister!” He complains as we avert our eyes from the splotchy red-stained white sheets covering man-sized lumps underneath them.

I know the real reason why Sebastian came to get me at the beach today. I’d been out of the house since before he’d woken up and he had become worried about me. As any caring family member would. We make it back home with no problems. I put Sleipnir to bed and givee him his dinner before having my own with Sebs. All in all, today was as uneventful for me as it gets on the beach. A day well spent though. Sleipnir has mostly got used to the sights and horrific smells of the beach during race season again.

*Timeskip to next morning.*

“Today, we are ready to ride on the beach, Buddy.” I say brightly to Sleipnir as I place his saddle on his back. He has his ears pricked. He loves being ridden. It’s the only time he really gets to gallop on the beach or on the top of the cliffs. He barely notices my weight, but follows my commands well. I should hope he would! I’ve spent years training this thing to be ridden! He doesn’t know we’re not going to gallop though. We’re just going to the beach, we’ll walk around a bit, maybe try a trot to get him used to still being ridden around capaill other than Sebs’ Dor again. He’s done it before, this time should be easy enough. He’s pretty adaptable, if still aggressive towards other people and capaill. I thread a few bells through the D-rings on my saddle. I make sure all my buckles are done up on my girth to the right length, I slide the straps on his bridle through the keepers to stop them bothering us as we ride. We can’t afford any distractions today. 

I lead him out of his stable to the mounting block and run my stirrups down the leathers so they are ready to use. Sebs slips out of Dor’s stable and holds the right stirrup of my saddle as I gather my reins and put my foot in the left one to swing myself onto Sleipnir’s back. I settle in the worn saddle, and my brother smiles at me as he stands back. Sleipnir is certainly excited now, prancing on the spot without moving an inch in any direction until he’s told to. I say my “See you later!” to Sebs as I give Sleipnir the nudge he needs to go into a fast trot. We get to the beach and it’s madness. Even more than yesterday. More people are riding, more bowler hats are moving around in the crowds, there’s no “North end safe-haven.” Not today. There’s already more blood on the sand and gore on the rocks. I can hear Sleipnir humming as he listens to other capaill scream.

I decide not to ride on the beach today, we’re not ready just yet. I ride him parallel to the beach instead, so he can see and hear the chaos below, just not get too riled up about it. I hear the screams of men start as a chestnut capall mare tears into one of Dad’s old friends. I just think to myself Wise choice, Tessie, as I turn Sleipnir away from the violence going on below us with tears welling in my eyes and canter home. We were beside the beach for a good couple of hours, just trotting up and down and back again. I’m so glad I wasn’t on the beach to see the... incident close up.

@thescorpioracesfestival

[jackcowboyhero]

What's the difference between bay and roan and chestnut (and any other brown horse color)? I can never keep them straight, but I bet you could explain it so I'd remember.

YOU BET I CAN!

(…I hope so, at least.  No guarantees you’ll remember, but if ya can’t, stick this guide in your back-pocket dime novel, or wherever else ya keep important papers.)

We’ll start with chestnut, which o’ course is the best color ‘cause it’s the color o’ everyone’s favorite wonder horse, the beautiful an’ illustrious Nell!

(In case you missed this picture, it was when some hooligan (and by that I mean Race) asked me to draw one o’ my pals wearin’ nothin’ but a fig leaf.  This paperless pape thing’s gotta be Mrs.-Jacobs-approved, so I don’t know who else he expected.)

Anyway, a chestnut horse is any shade o’ brown with a mane an’ tail the same color as their body, or sometimes lighter, like Nell’s is.  (That’s called a “flaxen-maned chestnut,” but I ain’t fancy, so I call her a blond-headed redhead.)

Benjy, the horse Blink’s ridin’, is a liver chestnut, which is just a darker shade o’ red, still with the same or lighter mane an’ tail.  (Benjy’s also a pinto, which means he’s got big splotches o’ white instead o’ bein’ one solid color.)

There’s also a color called sorrel, which as far as I can tell is about the same as a chestnut.  Some folks say sorrels are yellower and chestnuts are redder, and some say sorrel’s a Western word and chestnut’s an Eastern one, but what I say is, I’d rather go ride my chestnut-or-sorrel horse than sit there debatin’ which one she really is.  I use ‘em both, dependin’ on which one sounds catchier at the moment.

Finch, the horse I’m ridin’ up there, is a bay, which is a brown horse with a black points, which means their mane, tail, legs, nose, an’ the tips o’ their ears.  If you got a real reddish-brown horse with black points, it’s a blood bay, and if he’s real dark, he’s a seal bay, or just brown.  A brown horse’ll almost look black, but the trick is, they got brown shadin’ on their noses, flanks, elbows, an’ sometimes other places, like around their eyes.  Black horses are solid black all the way through.

I don’t got a picture o’ a brown horse, so we’ll borrow one o’ Charlie Russell’s.  You see how the main horse’s got little highlights o’ brown in him, even though he’s real dark?  I’d call him brown, an’ the one in the back’s a chestnut.

Roan ain’t a color by itself, it’s a pattern o’ white hairs over a base color–so a chestnut with white hairs mixed in with the red ones is a strawberry roan, or a black horse with white mixed in’s a blue roan. 

Cowboy, my main horse in Santa Fe, is a red roan, which is roan over bay, but I don’t got any color pictures o’ him.  So, here’s one o’ Fred Remington’s…even though, if you want the truth, I don’t think he’s got nothin’ on Charlie Russell.

(The difference between roan an’ pinto is that pintos have spots o’ all white or all colored hairs, and in roans they’re mixed.  If there’s enough white hairs mixed in, it makes the horse’s body look lighter than the rest o’ him, like ya see in the picture.)

Well, I’m all out o’ horse pictures, an’ you’re prob’ly done with hearin’ about horse colors, huh?  I promise it ain’t as complicated as it sounds–after all, I learned it.  Here’s your guide to cut out an’ stick in your dime novel:

Brown with same/lighter color mane: chestnut (sorrel)

Brown with black mane: bay

Black with brown shading: brown

Any color with lots of white hairs: roan

(If ya wanna get more specific, chestnut roan=strawberry roan; bay roan=red roan; brown roan=purple roan; black roan=blue roan.  Why they got twice the names they need, I can’t tell ya.)

But now, if you’ll excuse me, I got some brown horses to draw.  And by “brown,” I mean chestnut an’ bay an’ brown an’ all sorts o’ roans.

[twracehorse]

Star Stable Breed Reviews

Did a review on breeds and their colors cause why not? This’ll be my opinion on these horses and is only for fun

Only doing newer animation breeds since it wouldn’t be fair to the older model horses (even though the starter models got an update they still aren’t on par with the brand new models)

To start off with we have the first brand new model with animations never seen previous to its release...

American Quarter Horse

Animations: Since they are the first breed not to have the same stiff movements as the starter models they get a break here. They were the first horses in game that moved like actual horses. Looking at them now their gaits are a bit weird. Their shoulders, knees, and neck are a little awkward. Though I do like how their ears turn when going into full gallop (even if I don’t like how pinned back they are). Their jump and I don’t know if this is some newer glitch type that showed up later or I’ve just never noticed before....the horse pops back up like a cut in animation between landing and on the ground running again. It’s seen best when you canter jump.

Colors: The black is your typical black and has some socks and a star for added color. The bay is a nice color bay, Star Stable’s recent bays have been the more darker bays and I’d love for them to do some lighter ones. The palomino is really nice, it looks like it has dapples, has a really cute face marking, and two different socks. The blue roan is okay, a little too blue, but still has some spots (corn spots). The grulla is a smooth coat and has a cute little moon-like marking. The grey is well.... not the best. It’s actually one of the greys I don’t like in game (and I LOVE greys). Though I do love it has a darker mane, it’s not the cutest of greys. The red roan is a pretty realistic one. Looking up pictures of real horses you can see it matches some of them. A good start to the first? red roan in Star Stable! The brown snowflake appaloosa has really good markings, it’s different, I hope we get more appaloosas in future breeds like this. The black and white “appaloosa” is kinda cool, not too flashy or eye catching. The chestnut paint has a nice color and crisp markings. The black and white splash paint is unique being the only splash paint in Star Stable, we need more of these too. The grulla paint has a nice mix of color in the mane and tail. The brown pintaloosa is okay, the spots are cute, I think it would look nice if we got more like it but with more detailed body color. The grey and white paint has detailed dapples which look really, really nice.

Overall Score: 7/10 

(The animations are a good start and the colors are nice but could have improvement)

Morgan

Animations: Between the quarters and the morgans there’s a jump in how smoother these horses move. Being just the second horse with brand new animations, this is a big improvement. Their walk is smooth and realistic, the trot is light and bouncy, the canter is smooth, slow gallop is smooth as well. The full gallop, while looks good, does have some flaws. Main one is the character slamming their head on the neck of the horse. The neck of the horse also kinda seems to stretch a bit. Morgans are really good at jumping. I found that the morgans are the best breed to jump that three jump combo in the Goldenleaf Forest race.

Colors: The silver bay is a cutie! The body color is wonderfully paired with the darker legs, silvery mane and tail, and some socks with one leg that stands without one. A small bit of uniqueness. The cremello has a nice, soft color to it and has blue eyes to finish the job. The dark bay has nice shading and highlights to show depth in the coat. The black while is all black, it does have a more wavy like mane and tail. The silver dapple has more of a flat body color but comes with a shaded mane and tail with socks and a face marking to boot! The white is a nice mix of white with grey shading instead of it being all white. It has slight dapples on the side and the legs are different shades of grey. The buckskin is pretty nice. Everyone wanted this horse to be a Spirit. It’s a lighter color and not bright and flashy.  The dapple grey has some nice dapples over most of its body. The mane and tail start off as a darker grey and fade into a lighter grey. This one has similar leg markings to the silver bay, but they vary slightly when comparing them side by side. Also something I never noticed before is that the areas between the body and the legs are smoothed out? Like someone took the blur tool and swiped over them. It looks inconsistent and in my opinion would look better if they continued to shade down to the legs instead of loosing texture there. The chestnut is a remake of the old chestnut morgan. This one has a more copper look to it and it pulls it off.

Overall: 9/10  

(Animations have improved, the horses move more realistically. The head banging motion is the biggest complaint about this breed. The colors vary in uniqueness)

Shire

Animations: They’re pretty smooth. It might just be me but with how it goes through its paces it feels like they are bigger and have heavier hooves and bodies to move around. You don’t want the biggest horse in Star Stable to feel like you can turn it as fast as a morgan after all! They share the same animations as the morgans but it doesn’t feel like they do which is a nice thing to feel like it’s a different horse and not an oversized morgan. They are also the first horses to have a longer mane that has its own animation and not just stuck to the neck.

Colors: The dark bay is a solid color with its coat shine and has a blaze trailing down to its nose but no pinking. The chestnut is a nice color with an ombre mane and tail. It has a unique (and still not seen on any other model) marking that’s a badger face. The black is a solid black but has a stripe that has edges to it and isn’t just straight down the face. The black sabino shire would seem like another black shire but it has longer leg markings, a bald face, and a sabino marking on the under belly. Too bad they couldn’t give this one a blue eye on one side. The grey has dapples galore! An ombre mane and hair details on the body for the dapples makes this one a looker! The white has some subtle dapples and a little bit of pink on its nose. The white and black pinto is okay. If it had more black or a different body color it would be more popular I think. It looks too much like the white though it does have some splotching around the mouth. The dappled bay shire, like the grey, has some extreme dappling. It also has a marking to give some color to its face. 

Overall: 9/10

(Animations are from the morgan but feel like it’s a different breed from how they look and turn. Colors could be added to this breed since shires have 5 common coat colors but that isn’t the end of color possibilities (just searching up “shire colors” and looking at the pictures shows there could be more!)

Icelandic

Animations: They are from the shire but look different on this tiny, fuzzy body. It has a different rear from the shire. This is the first horse with a special gait and that is the tölt! It’s very smooth and represents the real life tölt in game form. 

Colors: The texture on these horses having the hair is wonderful. The chestnut is basic chestnut with a lighter mane and tail and a white star (I think this horse is based off a real one). The dark bay is a chocolate color with darker legs and a lighter tone near its nose. The grulla is a silver color with a dorsal stripe and some lighter tones in its mane. The bay pinto has a lot of white coverage on its back with a nice touch of mixed mane colors and a stripe down its face. The palomino horse is cute, a lighter color with a bald face. Though I have no idea what that strip on its throat is supposed to be. The white is a basic white but has some nice warm color eyes. The black is just all black. The grey has some dapples mixed in with the hair detail of its coat. Though it shares a similar face marking to the chestnut. The black and white pinto is like the bay pinto with more white in the back. No face marking and kinda just looks like the black and bay pinto had a baby. The silver dapple looks boring from afar but getting closer to you see the striking blue eyes and under the floof of the forelock there’s a sweet marking underneath. 

Overall: 10/10

(While the animations are reused from previous horses, it fits this breed. The tölt is smooth and is a nice detail of the breed. The colors vary and some are standard issue but the texture on these horses are well done and look like they have fur. They are also the first of the newer animated breeds to be cold tolerant)

Thoroughbred

Animations: I remember when we first saw how this breed moved, everyone was looking forward to it. The walk and trot looked so smooth and realistic. The canter and slow gallop are well done. The full gallop on the other hand is what made people go “ehhh that doesn’t seem right”. The legs looked like jelly (though they look good in photos and in slow motion) and the head wobbles. The jump isn’t my favorite. I don’t like the way the head turns to the side while jumping and the ears are still flopping backwards on the horses.

Colors: The flea-bitten grey is the first we see of a flea-bitten horse in game. It looks lovely, the horse has shading so it’s not a flat color and the flea bits cover the rest. The chestnut is a nice lighter chestnut with socks of the front of its legs and a cute stripe on the face. The black is all black, a shiny black, and what could’ve been a snip marking just ends up being a smudge and looks more like a shine than an actual marking. The dark bay is mostly a solid color but has shading towards its face and near the back legs and an interesting face marking. The white is a nice touch of color. Most thoroughbreds are the usual bay, black, grey, etc. But there are accounts of pure white horses in racing. I wish we could see more colors of thoroughbreds that are also rare and eye catching! The bay is a darker brown kind of bay with small back socks. It has a small snip on the verge of smudge but still noticeable and has a star but it’s the same marking the grulla quarter has. The grey has nice dapples, the face seems a bit whiter than the rest of its body. The mane however would’ve looked better as a dark mane since most dark grey horses have dark grey manes and tails.

Overall: 8/10

(The new smoother animations are amazing on this breed and ends up being the base for future horses. The full gallop is a little all over the place though. The colors are nice and can’t expect much from thoroughbreds who have a select amount of colors)

Welsh Pony

Animations: This little body shares similar motions from the thoroughbred. Though they seem to “stomp” a bit more in the walk. Through the gaits they are pretty normal but their shoulder seems to move more and the skin under their back legs stretch out. It really stretches in the full gallop.

Colors: The bay is a light bay and I wish we could get more bays like this one. It has socks and a little stripe and little dapples on its side. The black is still an all black one but not as much shine to it and it also has some dapples. The palomino is a sunny coat with a whiter mane and tail, some socks, a blaze, and also dapples. The white is leaning towards a slightly grayer coat with more dapples and a cute pink nose. The grey is nice but the body color looks grainy? With darkened legs with ombre mane and tail, featuring two back socks, and a small stripe like the bay but differs slightly. The flaxen chestnut is a bright color and paired with the mane and tail color it actually pulls it off. The dark bay is mostly one color but has some lighter shades to it.

Overall: 8/10

(The pony’s movements are smooth and have their own little spunk to it. They do have that weird skin stretch issue with their underbelly. The colors are nice, a shame they can’t come in pinto colors)

Jorvik Wild Horse (Icelandic)

Animations: They are the same model as the icelandic. Though they are shaded different and it actually works because they look different.

Colors: There’s only three colors but with them changing colors it gives them more appeal than just being bright colors all the time. The purple in full color mode has a grey body color and has the lavender cob-webbing on its back and purple mane and tail with purple eyes. City color it has a darker mane and tail and also has dapples. The red in full color has a black body color with red mane, tail, and legs with red eyes. In city color it’s just all black. The blue is all blue, the body is a darker blue, the legs are lighter blue, and the mane and tail have a lighter blue shine and has purple eyes. City color is a steel grey with a lighter grey mane and tail and legs with blue eyes. 

Overall: 9/10

(I like that they added these horses to have a normal color as well as their wild colors. The sparkles are nice so you know they’re changing. I just wish we could get rid of that “the magic is growing stronger” bar cause it gets in the way of photos)

Friesian/Friesian Sport Horse

Animations: The walk is kinda like the welsh pony walk. The trot is high stepping and is unique to the friesians compared to other breeds in game. The slow gallop and full gallop has the head bob and the motion follows through the rest of the horse. From the back it looks a little wonky. They have long manes so it has its own motion while moving.

Colors: Starting off with the normal friesians, they are all black with varying undercoats. One has a more blue undertone with grey eyes, one has a brown undertone with hazel eyes, and the third is dull and not as shiny as the other two with brown eyes. The sport horse colors are a charcoal grey that looks like the normal friesians until a closer look at the body reveals it has freckles and it has highlights in its mane and tail. The flaxen liver chestnut has a rich body color with a gold mane and tail and has socks. The grey is mostly all grey with some faint freckles and the legs seem to be lighter. This horse has orange-ish eyes. The white is a pure white with slight freckles on its body and a light grey muzzle and legs. The black and white appaloosa is a remake of the old friesian sport and it looks really good. I hope they remake the other two old sport colors.

Overall: 8/10

(Their high stepping trot is a nice touch to the breed. Their gallop is a little bit weird from behind. There can only be so many ways to make a black horse and I think Star Stable did a good job. The friesian sport horses need more colors! I’d love to see a chestnut)

Lipizzaner

Animations: These horses are fluid in movement and I am so happy with them. They are perfect for doing dressage and make it look right. They do have a bit of a weird neck while in full gallop. This is also a breed who has a special movement, the levade! It’s pretty close to how it is in real life with Lipizzaners doing the Airs Above the Ground performance.

Colors: The white is pretty basic as it’s the most common color for Lipizzaners. It does have some good shading but the hindquarter shading looks weird. The grey has some nice dapples and ombre mane and tail. The black is mostly black but has a little white star. The bay is kinda dark with some lighter areas.

Overall: 10/10

(There are a few weird parts with this breed but for the most part it is a beautiful example of a dressage horse in game. There’s not many colors as Lipizzaners mainly come in white/grey. I feel like they could add at least two more colors to this breed, a flea-bitten grey and a dark bay that’s more brownish with a snip (just to give it some sort of marking). Tbh I was kinda disappointed they didn’t have the Capriole as well since that’s a popular move but was probably too difficult to animate)

Mustang

Animations: These horses move so well there are little to no flaws about how they move. There’s no awkward joints and even the shoulders move well. A little thing I like is how when in full gallop their ears swivel back like how a real horse’s does and the ears are not floppy like other breeds. Though they still suffer from the “ears flopping back during jumping”. The only thing is the mane looks weird when it grazes. They are another breed with their own special motion and that’s bucking! They also have their own rear and it is so much better than the thoroughbred, lipizzaner, welsh pony, and friesian rear. It’s great for photos and gives off that movie like rear instead of the horse looking like it’s screaming to the heavens.

Colors: The bay is becoming a usual color for Star Stable and it’s always the same shade too. I’d prefer if they did more variations of bays instead of landing on the same coat every time. The black is lo and behold, all black. At least this one has a more matte body instead of shiny. The bay pinto is a slightly different bay.... slightly. The markings are good, they have a bit of hair detail at the edges. The leopard appaloosa finally has been added to a newer model! The spots are really nice and the pink muzzle has spots as well. The forelock of this horse reminds me of Cruella De Vil. The blue roan is thankfully not actually blue. It has corn spots and is well shaded but I think they could’ve added more black to the head. The bay roan shows a nice mix of the brown hairs and white hairs on its back. It also has a cute face marking. The sable cream is a nice light color with a brown mane and tail. The little star and long white stockings give this horse a unique look. The grey pinto is a cutie and the markings are done nicely. The white is kinda weird looking. In the foal app it looks fine but once it gets to the main game the shading just makes it look not as white. 

Overall: 10/10

(These horses move beautifully in all their gaits. Their ears are wonderful in full gallop, sucks that jumping still has floppy ears. The rear is the best rear they have in Star Stable. The colors are good so far but they can do SO MUCH MORE!! Mustangs can come in so many colors and I don’t know why they haven’t added more, even if it’s in the foal app)

Jorvik Wild Horse (Shire)

Animations: These horses have the same animations as the shires. Their manes are sticking up instead of flowing down. The mane also moves when still which gives off a magical feel or maybe the wind blowing through their manes. The feathering on their legs is also different and looks slimmer. 

Colors: The pink has a white body color with different colored speckles. It makes it look like someone flicked a paint brush at the horse. The mane, tail, feathering, and eyes are highlighter pink. Its city color is grey with darker grey speckles over its body. The mane, tail, and feathering are a light brown color. The green has a brownish/gold body color with a swampy color dusted over the back and a green muzzle. The mane and tail are a lighter green but the feathering is darker. The eyes are greenish/gold. Its city color is brown with white mane, tail, and feathering. The blue is black with blue mane, tail, feathering, and eyes. In the city color it is all black but the body is slightly lighter that the mane, tail, and feathering.

Overall: 8/10

(It’s nice to see more Jorvik Wild Horses. The colors this round weren’t too good. The pink is too bright but the speckles on both the city and wild color are nice. The mane, tail, and feathering for that one is just not as nice as the others. The green in wild color is iffy as well, what saves this horse is its city color as it is the best out of the three. The blue is just amazing. You can’t go wrong when you put that color blue and black together. The city color is a bit boring but it has its own uniqueness) 

Haflinger

Animations: This is the first breed that is done by a new animator since Star Stable’s main animator Matthias left. They share animations from the welsh pony and lipizzaner. The major flaw with these horses is their joints pop and look unnatural. The neck is also stiff during the full gallop. The mane flows which is a nice detail but the forelock seems stuck to their faces when they blink.

Colors: Halfingers come in different shades of flaxen chestnut. Each of these horses has a marking to tell them apart from their color. The following colors are chestnut with stripe that has a pink nose, golden chestnut with a star, dark chestnut with blaze, dappled chestnut with a disconnected stripe, light chestnut with a trailing star, and dark dappled chestnut with little hair markings on its forehead.

Overall: 8/10

(These horses are cute but their joint popping is a little disturbing. Their manes are nice and the tail has some detail at the end where it looks wavy. Their colors are nice and I’m really glad Star Stable gave each one their own marking)

Arabian

Animations: They share the mustang animations and it kinda works until you get to the canter. The canter’s front legs look long and spindly like a spider’s. That’s why they have the name “spider legs”. There’s less joint popping which is an improvement but you can still see it slightly. The tail trails behind and sometimes looks like a flag which isn’t exactly a bad thing. Since they have the mustang animations they have the nice rear.

Colors: The blood bay is a lovely color and has a bald face and high socks and blue eyes. The chestnut is more matte and has a cute star and snip combo. It looks the most realistic. (I think this one is based off a real horse). The black is typical black but it has one white sock. It would be more appealing if it came with a face marking too. The grey looks too much like the grey morgan except a worse version. It needs more shading and it has a line starting from its neck to the back where it looks like someone smudged the paint. You see it better when you look down at the back of the horse (when you’re not on of course). I love greys but this one is just meh. The dark bay is a chocolate color which isn’t bad. The fact it has no markings is what makes this horse so bland. There seems to be an attempt at a snip but it’s just a smudge. The white is the only good one out of the three and that’s saying something considering this is just a basic white arabian. A popular color among arabians, they did this horse justice though it could have more defined areas.

Overall: 6/10

(While their animations aren’t too bad themselves, they’re still not the best. The spider legs are the major problem with their animations. They don’t have a smooth transition from one idle animation to the next if there’s a pause. Say the arabian starts to look around, it gets to the end of that animation run and all the sudden it snaps back into a starting position. It’s a minor thing you don’t notice till you pay attention. With the seasoned animator gone we dropped in quality but are slowly getting back to where we used to be. The first batch of colors was nice, the black was a little too expected only saved by one sock but that wasn’t enough. The second batch was lacking in creativity and detail. I hope if they do have foals for this breed, they’ll have more unique colors like an extreme flaxen chestnut (which makes it look palomino), a sabino, and a rabicano)

Hanoverian

Animations: They have the thoroughbred animations but aren’t an exact copy. They seem to stick their front legs out a little more in the walk. In full gallop they keep their head up more like the welsh pony. Their jump, oh my lord they have fixed the jump! Horses with the same animation as the thoroughbred, lipizzaner, welsh pony, haflinger, and friesian have jumped while turning their head to the side. The hanoverians keep their head straight! The best part is they also fixed the ears in the jump. The ears stay forward!! It’s such an improvement and I hope they keep it like that for future breeds. They would have been absolutely perfect if they had the mustang rear or a nicer rear of their own.

Colors: We only have three colors of them so far as they are the newest breed. The chestnut is a rich color which could have used some more defining with muscles. This horse has a cute snip and different socks, even the hooves having the corresponding color with a leg that has a marking (usually legs with no marking are darker and ones with markings are lighter). The black is hallelujah! Not all black! It has a blaze and four white socks. Making it look like the oldenburg, but it looks better. The white is not just pure white. It has little freckles all over its body. The mane and tail of this horse is a bit darker than its body color which is nice to see.

Overall: 10/10

(These horses are the best ones yet from the new animator (or animators). They move fluidly, there’s no joint popping, they perfected the jump, they kept the ears forward while jumping and it looks amazing in pictures. Their faces are also realistic and not bug eyed like the thoroughbred. Hanoverians can only come in the basic colors of black, grey, bay, dark bay, and chestnut but they are doing wonders putting markings on these horses to make them different and stand out! I can’t wait to see the next colors and hope they have markings to distinguish them (also a grey with a darker mane instead of a lighter one)

Things the Star Stable Team should take from this: Keep it up with different markings! I mean, not EVERY single horse has to have a marking. The ones with a more unique color can have a free pass if they have no markings XD Do different shades with horses. A bay isn’t always a reddish bay, it can be more brown and lighter in color like the dutch warmblood or welsh pony. Also grey horses can be lighter in body color and have darker mane and tails. Especially true with darker greys! Most darker grey horses have dark mane and tails instead of lighter ones. Do more rears like the mustang rear! More photogenic rears would be lovely. Keep the ears of the horses from being too floppy ESPECIALLY while jumping! If they can have more jump animations like how the hanoverian does then it’ll be a step forward! And finally more colors on certain breeds could be added and could be ideas for the “new color variations of old breeds” batch of new horses

[hah-studios]

The Beauty of a Beast Part 1

In celebration of the upcoming Disney remake and for one of the most timeless love stories ever told: mixing three different adaptions and adding my own twists. A beautiful and strong-willed girl must pull a prince from a monster, a castle from its curse, she must do the impossible and find a way to love a beast. 

Maurice was, according to any and all facts, a fool.

           A fool that once owned a grand fleet of trading ships, a fool that once lived in a grand mansion of a polished uptown city, bathed in jewels and silks.

But one thoughtless decision to send his entire fleet through the Pacific had sent them all into a hurricane. He had lost not only his ships but his sailors, and with it means to support his family.

Punished for his idiocy he and his children were sent tumbling into poverty, forced to sell many of their riches and move to a small wooden house in a small country town. There they took up the work of farmers, growing their own food, sewing their own clothes and tending to the few farm animals they had.

           That had been a year ago, today was the anniversary of when Maurice had lost it all and in a desperate attempt to give his children something to make their new life more bearable he decided to go out and trade the few finer garments and knick knacks he had been able to keep.

The desire had sent him on his chestnut mare into a dark forest that chirped and howled with moving shadows and unseen creatures. The mare’s hooves crackling as she walked over fallen leaves, the bare black branches above intertwining around each other, creating a ebony spider web against the night sky.

The mare fondly named Darling was breathing with an edge of anxiety, her black eyes roving over the intimidating forestry, her flanks shivering with each breath.

Maurice stroked her mane, “Easy girl, won’t be much longer now.” He had hoped to make it to the next town across the forest but with storm clouds hovering over his head he decided it would be better to find an inn or some such to spend the night.

But there was no sign of civilization in sight and the rumble of thunder was starting an oppressive duet with the forest’s moans and Darling was getting more and more agitated by the music’s threats.

           Maurice flinched with an icy cold raindrop suddenly splattered on his nose, quickly followed by another, and as the seconds ticked by a sprinkle that would soon become a torrent drenched the man and his horse. Darling whinnied in worry and stopped, her hooves clomping uncertainly on the damp dirt that would soon be slippery mud.

“Easy, easy,” Maurice held the reins tightly in his gloved hands, the gray seams stretching against his flexed knuckles. “Steady, steady.” But it was to no avail, a flash of lightning shot down from the sky, stabbing the ground just behind them. Darling let out a scream of terror, the sound overshadowed by a vicious roar of thunder and the horse darted forward. If Maurice hadn’t already had a tight grip on the reins he would’ve fallen off the horse. Knowing there was no way he could calm her with lightning flashing above them and the thunder rumbling its menace Maurice wrapped his arms around Darling’s rain-soaked neck, praying some animal instinct would lead her to a safe location.

           Despite the sting of the rain slicing at his gray eyes he watched the dark forest blur past him, muffled by the sheets of rain that turned the ground beneath his mare into mud, her hooves sinking into the brown mess. But then, quite suddenly, the ground beneath Darling gave and the horse was sliding down the embankment, sending Maurice’s stomach into his throat. But by some miracle Darling reached the bottom of the streaming hill without losing her footing, and when the ground was once again solid beneath her hooves she kept running, froth flecking her mouth and eyes still wide and almost hungry for an escape from the raging storm. Maurice kept his head down, whiskered cheek pressed against his horse’s mane as the trees around them inched closer and closer, the branches reaching down to try and claw at his whipping hair, the trunks scraping against his legs and horse’s ribs. He hissed in pain when an exceptionally sharp peace of bark sliced against his leg, ripping through cloth and grazing his skin.

And just when Maurice thought the force of the rain and his horse’s speed would knock him out of his saddle Darling broke out of the trees-and before them stood a castle.

           Darling, her exhaustion overriding her fear, came to a clumsy halt at the closed gates. Maurice slid off her saddle, running his fingers over her neck, soaked with both rain and sweat, as he peered up at the sight before him, made hazy by the rain. The gate loomed over him; it would take at least ten men standing on each other’s shoulders to reach the top. It was deep ebony, the iron bars straight and reaching to the sky before they reached the top and arched and curled into intricate patterns, a thick gray wall just as tall as the gate wrapped around the castle, protecting it from intruders. The castle itself was full of spires and towers, reaching up to the storming sky, black windows suggesting that it was abandoned. There was something about it that Maurice found…gloomy, as if the castle itself was sad.

But he needed to get out of this rain; he would have to ignore the knot in his gut that warned him of danger. Instead he pushed at the gate, expecting it to resist but to his surprise it swung open with ease. Maurice slipped himself and Darling into the castle’s territory and closed the gate with a clink.

Walking across a cobblestone path Maurice saw that the lawn and plants of the castle’s courtyard were eerily well-kept. Perhaps there was someone living here. And perhaps they would be interested in one of his knick knacks.

He found an empty stable full of hay and left Darling to have a much needed rest. With the excitement of running through the storm having passed Maurice now felt a chill that reached to his bones. Fearing he could catch his death Maurice walked to the double doors that was the castle’s entrance, the wood decorated with the carvings of creatures both real and fantastical. He used the iron knocker that was ice cold from the weather and pounded on the door, the wood thrumming with the force, a moment later one of the doors swung open, no one on the other side. With a chill of suspense icing his spine Maurice finally stepped out of the rain and inside.

           He was greeted by an immense hall that led into an oval-shaped first room, smooth stone stairs that led higher into the castle, and large door ways that led into other parts of the castle. The sheer size of this place almost sent Maurice to his knees. Whoever lived here…had Maurice just stepped into the home of a king?

He took in a breath, tasting a hint of dust, and walked across the marble floor that was decorated in gold, green, and red, forming swirling and star shaped patterns. His soggy boats squelching with water with every step he took.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing in the seemingly empty hallways. “Is someone there?”

           Unbeknownst to Maurice someone was there, or rather, two someone’s. From the dark of the second floor two pairs of eyes watched the man below with interest, one pair a dazzling emerald green, the other a glinting brown.

The brown eyes glared, “Don’t even think about it.”

The emerald eyes flashed with amusement, “Think about what?”

“Stay away from that man Renard. He’ll leave soon enough.”

Maurice was still calling out, “I don’t mean to disturb. But I became caught in the storm, and need a place to stay for the night.”

The smiling eyes were now concerned. “Come, come Plumes have a heart.”

“The Master will-” Plumes began but his voice trailed off into an indignant hiss as his companion left his side and climbed down the steps to the unwanted guest.

           Maurice turned on his heel, looking back to the now closed double doors (he could not recall shutting the door behind him) and considered what to do next. But then suddenly a voice spoke up behind him: “Of course, Monsieur you are welcome!”

He whirled around, his eyes moving to the stairs where he saw…a fox. He started slightly at the creature’s sudden appearance; it sat on the third to bottom step, a well groomed tail resting over its soot black paws and intelligent green eyes watching him. Assuming the fox was domestic Maurice continued to look around for the owner of his welcome. Seeing no one else he turned back to the fox. “Who said that?”

He didn’t expect the fox to answer. “I did.”

Maurice let out a shocked cry of fright, stumbling and falling to the chilly marble floor. He stared with bulging eyes and a slack jaw at the animal that had opened its muzzle to speak clear and coherent words. Seeing the man fall the fox’s ears pulled back in worry, it stood up on its hind legs as if it was a man and reached a paw out like it wanted to help him up. “Are you alright, Monsieur?”

Before Maurice could fully wrap his head around this witchcraft the flutter of wing beats announced the arrival of a great horned owl. It landed next to the fox, its tawny feathers puffed in agitation and its wings still flapping with obvious aggravation. “Now you’ve gone and done it, Renard!”

The fox, Renard, rolled his eyes at the owl’s squawk while Maurice finally pushed himself to his feet, staring at the two animals with wonder and confusion. What kind of enchanted castle was this to have animals that acted like men? But then he sneezed loudly, a shiver coursing over his body and distracted the fox and owl from their arguing. Renard stepped forward and took Maurice’s hand between his paws, the fur warm and pads smooth. He made a noise of sympathy, “You are soaked to the bone, Monsieur. Come; let us warm you by the fire.” He led Maurice to an entertaining room where a roaring fire blazed, medium sized statues of lions decorating the furnace a large arm chair of ruby red standing guard before the flames. Maurice let out a great sigh of relief and pleasure as he sat in the chair, the warmth drying his clothes and reaching to his iced bones.

The fox sat before him, his creamy muzzle curled into a smile while the owl had stayed at the back of the room, muttering under his breath. “If the Master is displeased I will not take the blame.”

Hearing the word ‘Master’ Maurice wanted to ask to see the man but then quite suddenly a rolling cart appeared by his side, it carried a tea set and two cats. One had beautiful and long white fur with blue eyes to match, beside her sat an excited looking kitten, its fur and eyes matching its mother’s.

“Would you like a cup of tea, sir?” the feline’s voice was female and it gave away that she had more age than her appearance let on. “It will chase your chill away.”

“No tea!” The owl known as Plumes flew to perch at the top of the arm chair. “No tea!” But his words were ignored.

“Thank you very much.” Still in wonder he accepted the cup of tea the kitten held between its forepaws, its big blue eyes glittering with unbridled curiosity.

“Chaton, don’t stare,” its mother scolded softly.

The kitten lowered itself and turn its wide eyes to her, “Sorry, Momma.” Chaton had the voice of a little girl.

“Do excuse her we have not had a visitor in…” Chaton’s mother trailed off. “Well, in a long time.”

Maurice nodded in understanding, already he felt at ease around these peculiar creatures. “This castle is not easy to find, I myself only found it by accident. My horse had fallen down a rain-washed hill.”

“Is that how you hurt your leg?” The question came from Renard whose eyes had found the tear in Maurice’s trousers.

“Oh dear!” Chaton’s mother looked at the man’s leg with concern while the small kitten clumsily climbed onto Maurice’s lap to get a closer look.

“It’s just a graze,” he assured him. His leg wasn’t even bleeding and the pain had subsided, he could fix the trousers once he returned home. He smiled when the animals (with the exception of Plumes who still silently glared at him) showed their open relief.

Chaton smiled up at Maurice, still sitting on his lap, when her eyes moved to his neck. “What’s that?”

She reached a small and soft paw to the golden locket that hung from the man’s neck. Maurice smiled and undid the chain to hold the locket in his palm. “One of my most prized possessions.” He opened the golden oval to reveal a folded piece of parchment. With the animals’ wide eyes on him he undid the parchment and showed them a picture, it was a beautiful painting of Maurice’s five children: “My family.”

He pointed to his two sons, dark brown hair curled and faces handsome, “My sons, Tristan and Nicholas.” He pointed to his two eldest daughters, twins of fair hair and skin, “My daughters, Lucy and Susan.”

Chaton’s small paw patted the image of the final girl in the family portrait, “Who is that?” The girl in question was unlike the other four children; her skin was the color of fine chocolate, her hair glossy ebony and eyes shining amber. Maurice’s smile was full of the greatest love and affection. “That is my youngest, Belle. I adopted her when she was just a little girl.” It was back when his fleet was still intact and prosperous. He had just lost his wife who died to give birth to a stillborn child and decided a journey across the seas would be best for him and his children. They had been at a port in Africa when he came across a beautiful young girl who wore nothing but rags but whose eyes and smile shined with a beauty and love that could not be outmatched. Learning from the locals that her mother had passed away the orphan had left on Maurice’s ship, a new daughter who filled the hole his wife and stillborn left behind. This small portrait had been made just before the loss of his ships, his children smiling and eyes sparkling. Only Belle had kept her smile and sparkle when they had lost everything.

“They’re beautiful children,” the silky cat of snow smiled.

“Gorgeous,” Renard agreed.

Plumes let out a hoot of annoyance, his head having turned to stare at the empty doorway of the room.

Talk of his children reminded Maurice of why he was here. “You say you have a Master?” He moved to take off the satchel that held the items he intended to trade. “Could I see him? I had hoped-”

“No!” Their four voices rang out in unison, all with an edge of nervousness and even fear.

Renard cleared his throat and shook his head. “Our Master is a…introverted…person. He rather keep to himself.”

“I see,” Maurice frowned. “I had hoped to see if had anything he would like to barter for.” He quickly changed the topic when he saw the animals’ worried expressions. “But I won’t disturb him. Could I stay until morning? I will quickly be on my way then.”

“Of course,” Renard smiled but his voice was still strained. “Rest by the fire, enjoy the rest of your tea.”

Plumes spoke up, “Renard, Chat, a word.” He flew out of the room, the fox and cats following after him, with Chaton waving her pink-padded paw in farewell. Maurice could hear the owl speaking as they walked farther and farther away, and when he could no longer hear their voices he stood up. With the introduction of the talking animals his shock and wonderment had burned away any fatigue he had originally had. So, with the storm becoming a mere memory he decided he would check on Darling one last time, making sure she would be safe and comfortable for the night.

           Slipping back out the front doors that once again opened and closed on their own accord Maurice walked across the damp grass of the castle’s grounds, the air now thick and fresh with the enhanced scent of the greenery.

But on his way to the stables he spotted something the rain had hidden from him when he first arrived. It appeared to be a small labyrinth of tall hedges, and terrible curiosity came over him to see what was hidden inside. Deciding he could check on his mare afterwards Maurice walked through the labyrinth of deep green hedges, coming across a clearing that formed a circle. Inside the clearing were a series of smaller bushes cut and trimmed to form the shape of fierce animals such as feral cats and bears, he even saw a griffon. They stood as if they were sentries to a large rosebush in the heart of the clearing. Maurice stepped closer, the white roses of the bush reminding him of the stars that now glowed above him. A moment later a thought whispered through his head: Belle.

His daughter had always loved roses, the only other thing she favored more was books. If he could bring her one of these flowers, as pure and white as freshly fallen snow, her smile would be worth his travel.

Maurice reached his gloved hand out to the bush and plucked one rose, bringing the white petals to his face, breathing in the fragrant scent. He smiled.

But then all of a sudden he was knocked to the moist ground, a weight pinning him down and a large clawed paw pressing his face into the grass. Maurice let out a gasp of terror, the rose falling away from his trembling fingers.

He saw a flash of razor sharp fangs and then a voice spoke, a voice that sent Maurice back into that forest where wolves stalked and darkness reigned, brought back to him the terror of receiving the news that his ships would not be returning, the terror as he watched the life fade out of his wife’s eyes. It was the worse kind of fear-the helpless kind. “So this is how you repay me for letting you have shelter from the storm? You steal from me?!”

“I-I’m sorry!” Maurice gasped out the words, feeling like his heart would break against his ribcage. Though the pressure that pinned him down did not bruise him the fear would leave marks that lasted for days. Whatever this monster was it was clearly the master of this castle. “I didn’t mean any offense!”

“Words are silent compared to actions,” the creature snarled. “Actions are so loud they could make one’s ears bleed. And I plan on screaming back.”

The monster’s words confused Maurice until he saw its paw in his vision, it was almost human like, with long fingers that ended in sharp black claws and covered in thick dark fur. He flinched when it grabbed his locket and ripped it off his neck. “No!”

“This is to pay for your shelter,” the master snarled. His voice lowered with a promised threat: “Your imprisonment will pay for the rose.”

Its claws dug into Maurice’s clothes and it started to drag the old man across the grass and toward the castle. The man screamed and cried out, frantically digging his nails into the ground to try and break free. But there was no point, there was no escape.

           From one of the many windows of the castle Renard and the others watched the scene below them, their expressions showing the worst kind of fear.

 .

             Belle sat at the fountain in the heart of town, her amber eyes moving across the pages of her latest book. Behind her Lucy and Susan stood at the window of the town’s only clothing store, mooning over the newest dresses on the other side of the glass.

And, naturally, arguing over who it would look best on.

“That pink would fit my skin tone much better,” Lucy told her sister, running her fingers over her slender, long neck. “You’re too tan.”

Belle didn’t have to look behind her to see her sister’s scowl. It was clear in her voice: “I’m only tanner because I actually do work while you laze around the house!”

“I cook and clean the house!” Lucy shot back.

“How about you clean up after those filthy animals once in a while?”

Belle tuned out their argument for a few minutes before the sound of her name brought her out of her imagination. “Belle, don’t you have anything better to do than read those silly books?”

She let out a soft sigh, using a violet ribbon to mark her place in the ‘silly’ book and closed it. Fair Verona would have to wait.

She looked over her shoulder to meet her sisters’ matching green eyes, “Haven’t you anything better to do than fawn over dresses you can’t afford?”

Lucy pouted, “The difference between a dress and a book is that a dress will get a man’s attention.”

Belle stood up, placing her book in the pocket of her apron and walking over to join her sisters’ side. “Yes, but I’m not trying to get a man’s attention.”

“And that’s your problem my dearest little sister,” Lucy cooed in pity, placing a delicate hand on her cheek. “You think dusty books can satisfy you when only a man can do that.”

Belle had serious doubts over that. Besides it wasn’t like she was against men, perhaps she would be happier if she found that one special person. The only problem being that her ideal soul mate would have to at least respect her love of reading and none of the men in this town did that. On the contrary, both her personality and looks were too different in this town, and the gossip of this place was not quiet. Only one man outside her family showed her any attention and oh how she wished he would jump into a lake.

           Speak of the devil a charming and arrogant voice sliced through the air, making her sisters instantly smile but sent a shiver of dread down Belle’s spine.

“Good afternoon, ladies.”

Belle turned around to face Gaston, the richest man in town and the best hunter. By looks he could be an angel from heaven, a strong jaw, raven hair pulled back by a crimson ribbon and ice blue eyes. He was beautiful to look at but he made Belle’s skin crawl, he was rude, boorish, and egocentric. He would never be the man for her.

But of course-he did not know that.

Gaston tossed his arm across her shoulders and flashed his one hundred watt smile that made Lucy and Susan melt. “Belle,” his voice was shamelessly flirty.

“Gaston,” her tone was polite but icy.

She tensed when the man took her book right out of her apron, removing his arm to leaf through the pages. “How can you read this? There aren’t any pictures.”

“It’s called imagination, Gaston,” Belle pulled her voice through tight teeth.

He gave her a look that was similar to Lucy’s pity but it was even more condescending. “Why read when you could be spending time with me?”

Why breathe when you could be dead? Belle thought viciously but her father raised her to act like a lady. “Was there something else you needed?”

“I thought I could take you-” he glanced absently at her mooning sisters-“And your lovely sisters to the tavern to see my latest kill.”

“Maybe some other time,” Belle tried and took her book back, holding it protectively to her chest. She thought of Juliet Capulet who had supposed to marry a prince and for a moment wondered how she would react to Gaston’s advances. The moment was short-lived as she remembered the rather eccentric Juliet might not be the greatest of role models when Belle planned on living a nice long life. “We have to go home and see if our father has returned.”

Belle had barely slept last night when the storm hit, worry for her father knotting her stomach and sent her pacing around her room. But the storm had not lasted long and she prayed he had found shelter during it.

Gaston frowned but Belle was already linking arms with her sisters and hurrying home, Lucy and Susan’s disappointment palpable. “What is the matter with you?” they both whispered in annoyed unison.

“I’m giving you both my blessing to marry him,” was Belle’s curt reply.

“We would if we could,” Susan moaned with what would’ve been heartbreak if she had felt more than lust.

 .

             After Belle had departed with her sisters Gaston was greeted by his lackey LeFou, the smaller, fuller man gave a twinge of sympathy. “Didn’t give you the time of day did she?”

Gaston lightly smacked his large hand over LeFou’s head, not moving his eyes from the path the three ladies had taken. “She needed to see if that sorry excuse of a father had returned. I wouldn’t deny the dear girl that.”

LeFou scrunched up his comically large nose, “I don’t know, Gaston. You could have any girl in town. Why her?” LeFou’s dislike of the girl was obvious, not fond of Belle’s disinterest in Gaston and her…differences.

Gaston let out an exasperated groan that hinted they had had this conversation before. His eyes found his loyal shadow. “LeFou what did I tell you the moment after I first met her?”

“That she’s gorgeous,” LeFou answered obediently.

Gaston nodded like a patient professor repeating a lesson. He pointed his finger at the smaller man, “And what does that make her?”

Having this conversation repeated almost weekly LeFou knew the answer: “The best.”

Gaston pointed to himself, “And what do I deserve?”

LeFou sighed; his round slouchy shoulders sinking, “The best.”

“Good LeFou,” Gaston patted his head as if he was a dog that learned to sit on command. The taller man straightened to his impressive height and sent his dazzling smile after Belle who had long since vanished. “Ever since I met her I knew I must marry her. The most beautiful girl in town with the most handsome man in town-no, the earth, we are destined to be.” He turned his smile down to his follower, “People will love it, a rich gentleman saving the poor damsel from the depths of poverty. Hunting for her, giving her only the finest dresses, who could resist? Certainly not her.”

LeFou had a rare moment of wisdom and remained silent. He instead watched Gaston’s blue eyes crinkle, thoughts making the gears in his head turn. “I just need to give her a little nudge in the right direction.” The grin that slowly spread across his lips could make the Cheshire cat jealous. “And I have the perfect little nudge.”

 .

             The girls returned to find their brothers in the room that served as both their dinning and living room.

Tristan, the eldest, resembled their father with a thin beard matching his curled brown hair. He was tending to the fading embers of the fire place while Nicholas sat at the table, making lures for fishing.

“Hi,” he greeted his sisters with his trademark sweet smile. His green eyes were bright and inviting, his brown hair curled like his brother’s and his face friendly.

Tristan turned at his brother’s voice, sending a sour glare at the three girls. “Enjoy wasting time in town?”

The five words sent Lucy and Susan into indignant spluttering. But Belle ignored Tristan, looking around the room that only her brothers occupied. Dismay weighed on her brother, making her shoulders sink.

           She sat down next to Nicholas. “Papa hasn’t made it back yet?”

Nicholas’ smile was pulled down. “No, not yet… But Belle, he said it would take him a whole day to get to the next town. He probably only arrived this morning.”

Belle’s eyes fell down to her interlocked fingers, his words doing little to ease her anxiety.

Nicholas placed his hand over hers and Belle smiled at him, gratitude in her eyes. While she wouldn’t say it aloud Nicholas was her favorite sibling. He had warmed up to her instantly when Maurice adopted her and the two had always been close. And unlike the others Nicholas was at least trying to make the most of their new life.

           Lucy suddenly sat across from her younger siblings and cast an acerbic look at Tristan. “So what will we be having for lunch?”

He almost bared his teeth at his younger sister, “Whatever you bother to cook.”

Lucy rudely rolled her eyes, “If I do it’ll be better than whatever grizzle you’d whip up.”

Susan, who had been making her way to the stairs that led to their rooms, came to a halt and glared at her twin. “That would require you actually dirtying your hands.”

Belle stood up before another word could be said, “Stop.” She looked beseechingly at the gray and green gazes that now watched her. “How can you argue like this when Papa hasn’t returned? Aren’t you worried for him?”

Tristan stood up and rubbed his palms across his trousers, staining them with soot. “We are worried, Belle. But what do you expect us to do? We have to watch the house and he wanted to go.”

Only to appease us, Belle thought with guilt. He blames himself for us living here. And now he could be…

Belle knew Nicholas could be right; Maurice could’ve reached his destination safely. He could be coming home with gifts a plenty. But there was an instinct inside her that wouldn’t unknot her insides, wouldn’t let her pulse slow to a normal pace.

And then there was a knock on the door.

           “I’ll get it.” Susan held up her skirts and walked to the door, pressing her eye to the peep hole. A second later she whirled around, skirt flying and expression excited. “It’s Gaston!”

“Hide,” Belle replied immediately.

Nicholas stood up to stand at her side, “What does he want?”

“To see our baby sister,” Lucy was just as excited as her twin.

Belle moaned in trepidation, “But I don’t want to see him!”

“Too bad,” Tristan placed his hands on her shoulders. “He’s the richest man in town and you’re going to be nice to him.”

Belle was pushed to the door and before she could even blink her siblings ran up the stairs to hide but also eavesdrop. “Traitors,” she muttered under her breath. Steeling herself Belle finally opened the door.

           And sure enough there was Gaston in all his primeval glory, leaning against the door frame and smile already in place.

“Gaston,” Belle’s smile was strained and unconvincing, “What a…pleasant…surprise.”

“Naturally,” Gaston slipped around her, inviting himself inside.

Belle stayed by the open door. “Did-did you need something?”

Gaston made himself comfortable in Maurice’s chair at the head of the table. Watching him place his mud-caked boots on the table rubbed her nerves raw. He leaned his head back to show off his impressive Adam’s apple, “I’ve come to make your dreams come true, Belle.”

Her dark brow furrowed, “To do that you have to know my dreams.”

“I do!” Gaston lifted his head. “You don’t act like it but you want what all women hope and scheme for: to be a wife.”

Belle’s heart dropped and she was surprised her expression remained placid. Oh no. No, no, no, no.

There was a sharp gasp from upstairs and muffled movement, whichever twin just gasped had quickly been muzzled by a hand.

“Gaston,” Belle’s voice choked. “I don’t think-”

But he was already up on his feet, reaching her side to wrap his arm around her waist. “Picture this”-he extended his free arm out to indicate to a future that would never happen-“Us in a rustic hunting lodge, much bigger than this sack.”

This he-man is inconceivable!

“My latest kill roasting over the fire.” His expression was nothing but smug arrogance.

Also unbelievable, Belle’s thought was as dry as a desert.

Gaston’s smile nearly blinded her as he turned his head down to look at her, “And my little wife massaging my feet while the little ones play on the floor with the dogs.” His lips pouted in thought, “I think we’d have six or seven.”

“Dogs?”

Gaston’s laugh was booming. “No, Belle!” He ran a hand over his finely groomed hair, “Six or seven Gaston Juniors.”

I am not hearing this! “Imagine that.”

Gaston pulled her closer, Belle pulling her head back to keep some distance. The last time she was this nauseous she was seven years old and sea sick.

“We’ll be a perfect pair,” he purred, actually purred. “Just like my thighs.”

Nicholas’ sudden burst of laughter from upstairs made Gaston look up, his grip on her loosening, Belle took the chance to escape his arm.

“Sorry, Gaston,” Belle flashed her own white teeth, placing her hands on his broad chest. “I just don’t deserve you.” When he opened his mouth to reply she gave a hefty push, sending him out of the door. “But thanks for asking!” She slammed the door and turned the lock with a noise of exasperation and disgust.

 .

             Not surprising, Tristan and the twins were furious with Belle for rejecting the richest man in town. Going on and on about how accepting his “proposal” would’ve brought them back to the comfy life they had once known. Belle sat silently and let them ramble on until they finished their rant by grounding her. Indulging them Belle made her way up the stairs as they proclaimed they would be going back to town to try and win Gaston’s favor. Those words made her stop halfway up the creaking steps and watched the three leave the house.

Nicholas, leaning against the table, gave her a sympathetic smile, “Don’t let them bother you. You know what they’re like.”

“But they might try to bring Gaston back,” Belle wrapped her arms around herself, feeling cold. “Nicholas they might try to force me to marry him.”

Her brother’s eyes narrowed and he moved into a protective stance, “They can’t force you to do anything.”

But they could certainly try; there was only one person who could order them to stop. “I have to bring Papa back.”

           Dusk was falling over them as Belle and Nicholas made their way to the family’s barn, Tristan, Lucy, and Susan still in town.

“Why not let me go?” Nicholas asked of her, worry making his voice strained. “Or at least wait until morning.”

“No.” The fact it was already evening with no sign of their father did nothing to calm her anxiety. “They might bring him over tonight, no it’s better I go alone. I’m smaller, Philippe can move faster with just me.”

In the barn the large brown horse looked as on edge as Belle felt, which was understandable, he missed Darling. She stroked the horse’s large nose, “Hi, boy. Think you can help me find my father and your sweetheart?”

Philippe whinnied.

“Just be careful, Belle,” Nicholas begged of her as they saddled the horse. “Don’t stay out all night, if you can’t find father right away come home or find a place to sleep for the night.”

“I know.” Belle crawled onto the horse’s shadow, now towering over his brother. “Don’t worry so much, Nicholas. You and I both know I’m tougher than I look. I’ll bring father home and he can pull Tristan’s and the girls’ heads from the clouds.” And maybe even give Gaston a swift kick in his trousers.

But Nicholas still looked up at his sister with such worry that her heart melted for him. She leaned down and kissed his temple, “I promise I’ll be fine. I’ll bring father home and everything will be just fine.”

Straightening in the saddle she let Nicholas lead Philippe out of the barn, when the country side and forest stood before her Belle whipped the reins against Philippe’s broad neck and the horse immediately galloped. In only a few moments the two were swallowed by the shadows of the forest, leaving Nicholas staring after them with a horrid sense of fright crushing his throat.

 .

             “How is the Master?”

The question came from Chat, she and Plumes sitting in the room Maurice had been invited to, the fire now only a few embers.

Renard shrugged as he walked in, “I didn’t ask.”

Plumes huffed, “Of course you didn’t. Why not?”

The fox sat down and lifted his muzzle to the ceiling. “You know that locket the man brought?”

“He’s been asking for it,” Chat said sadly. She had made a point in visiting the guest turned prisoner.

“The Master has been staring at the picture inside it,” Renard went on, his voice contemplative. “I don’t think he even knew I was there.”

“Oh!” Chat started suddenly, her blue eyes having found the room’s grandfather clock. “I best find Chaton; it’s time for her bath.” She quickly padded out of the room, leaving Renard and Plumes alone.

The fox watched her go, letting out a sigh when she disappeared. “You know…if only one of the man’s daughters had come instead-”

Plumes’ angry hoot interrupted his musings. “Don’t start! That man shouldn’t have come at all! I warned you but did you listen? Of course not! You never do!”

Renard rolled his eyes as his friend continued to bluster his outrage, Renard’s mind going back to his Master in the west wing, staring with something similar to fascination at a smiling, happy family that was such a foreign concept to the castle.  Renard could also recall seeing his master trace a claw over the daughter known as Belle.

 .

             Thanks to the mud that was left from the storm Belle had come across hoof tracks. She urged Philippe to pick up his pace, hoping to find where the tracks led before it got darker. But Philippe suddenly jolted, almost falling down a hidden hill, the horse took a few steps back with an uncertain neigh.

Belle narrowed her eyes; the tracks reached this hill that was covered with mounds of dried mud. But she could just see through the dark to the ground below and make out more horse tracks. Belle swallowed, sliding off Philippe’s saddle and holding his reins tight she led him down the steep hill. The process was slow, Belle barely breathing as her feet sank with each step, body braced for the hill to give. Philippe was faring no better, his body trembling as he loyally but reluctantly followed her, his ears pulled back and eyes like saucers of white.

Belle had almost reached the bottom of the hill when the mud gave; yelping Belle forced her legs to move. She clumsily ran down to the bottom of the hill, Philippe was pulled after her, nearly knocking her down when he reached the bottom.

Once again steady on their feet Belle leaned against Philippe’s shoulder, caressing his muzzle. “Let’s try to find a different route on the way back, yes?” He snorted in agreement.

           Belle looked to the ground to see the tracks led into an even thicker crop of trees, instead of climbing back onto the horse’s back she led him through the makeshift path. Dark branches arched toward the two which did nothing to calm her nerves, flinching when brambles tugged at her skirts.

But it was not long before the forest broke away and she stood before a castle. Belle’s jaw dropped at such a magnificent yet ominous sight, and something inside of her screamed to go in. This was where she needed to be.

Surprised that the gates were not locked she and Philippe stepped into the grand courtyard that looked so different from the forests beyond the wall, the grass thick and trees flourishing, it was beautiful despite the looming shadow the castle cast over it.

Philippe sniffed the air and all of a sudden whinnied with excitement and ran past Belle, making her lose her grip on his reins. She quickly followed the racing horse to a large stable almost the size of their barn at home. When she stepped inside she broke into a smile, Philippe had found Darling.

The mare looked perfectly fine, Belle noticed with relief as she watched the two horses nuzzle each other with open affection.

“Papa must be inside the castle,” she breathed to herself. Leaving the horses to themselves she turned and headed to the front doors of the castle, heart thrumming in an odd mixture of excitement and anticipation.

 .

             Plumes was still trying to make Renard’s ears bleed with his insistent squawks of disapproval. The fox would’ve left long ago but knew the owl would only follow after him, so instead he prayed for a distraction great enough to render Plumes silent.

His prayer was answered with one word: “Hello?”

The one word, spoken in an undeniably feminine voice had Plumes shutting his beak and Renard’s tail bristling. They gave each other one look before scurrying to the door way of the room, peeking their heads out just in time to see a figure standing before the stairs that led up into the towers of the castle. The figure’s back was to them, wrapped in a deep gray cloak with long black hair draped over slender shoulders.

Renard breathed out a whisper of awe and nudged his companion. “It’s a girl.”

The nudge having nearly sent Plumes to the floor the owl glared at the fox, “Yes, I’m not blind I can see-”

But Renard had turned to him, grabbing the owl by his wings and shaking him as he spoke: “Don’t you see? It’s who we’ve been waiting for! The one to break the curse!”

           “Hello?” the girl called out once more, making her way up the steps. “Papa?”

Renard released Plumes who had gotten dizzy from the shaking and followed after her, a smile pulling up his black lips and making his sharp teeth flash. She had reached the second floor when Renard called out, still climbing up to her: “Bonjour!”

The girl let out a soft shriek and whirled around, large amber eyes finding him and her expression one of shaken disbelief.

“Sorry to frighten you,” Renard apologized. His eyes ran over her, taking in her dark skin and shiny hair and recognized her as the girl in the photo. The one his Master had taken an interest in…

“I’m dreaming.” Her words came out as a soft breath. “I fell down that hill, hit my head, and now am dreaming about talking foxes.”

Plumes then chose to land next to Renard, giving him a sharp stab with his beak. “Ow!” Renard barked, rubbing his shoulder.

“Haven’t you caused enough problems talking to complete strangers?” Plumes demanded.

“And owls…” Belle added.

“Look at her.” Renard indicated a dark as pitch paw to the girl. “This is clearly Belle.”

She blinked, “How-how do you know my name?”

“Your father is here,” he was quick to answer.

“Papa!” Her face was one of love and relief. “Where is he?”

“Oh-well…” Renard trailed off. He had not thought that far ahead. Plumes gave him an expectant look.

Seeing his hesitation Belle stepped forward, reaching a hand out to take his paw and giving him a pleading look. “Please tell me. I need him back.”

“He’s um…” Renard braced himself. “He’s locked up in one of our towers.”

As expected Belle immediately dropped his hand and took a few steps back, her face now twisted into fear and anger. “What?”

“It’s all a misunderstanding!” Renard quickly tried to appease her.

Her next words were a firm order: “Take me to him.”

           Belle still felt like she was in some mad dream as she followed the fox and owl up several flights of stairs. If she was dreaming her imagination was even more vivid than she had thought. The marble floors were bedecked with elaborate patterns that wound and winded across the smooth cold floor. The walls decorated with coats of armor, marble statues of creatures from lions to wolves to even griffons and unicorns. And hanging above her head were chandeliers of all different sizes, the glass glinting with the moon light shining from the windows.

           But finally the two talking animals stopped at a foreboding wooden door, pushing it open Belle looked into a dim and dusty room that made her swallow. But then Maurice’s voice came through the darkness: “Who is there?”

“Papa!” Belle dashed in without another thought, leaving the fox and owl at the doorway. Her heart clenched when she saw her father behind a set of bars, shivering in the cold and skin pale. Belle fell to her knees before the cell and Maurice’s eyes nearly fell out of his head.

“Belle?!” He reached his shivering hands through the rusting metal bars and Belle quickly snatched them between her own, her heart breaking when she felt his flesh that was cold as ice. A protective fury tightened her grip around his fingers.

“How did you find me?” he asked but then shook his head, “Never mind, you have to go. You have to get out of here!”

“Who’s done this to you!?”

“Belle listen I made a grave mistake!” Maurice was shaking, his eyes moving past her shoulder. “You have to get out of here before it’s too late! You can’t let it find you here!”

Belle scowled, “It?”

The word had just left her lips when the room grew darker; Belle turned around, moving herself in front of her father. A large figure was blocking the light of the hallway, its figure made of shadow. The shadow spoke: “Who are you?”

Belle shuddered, the voice like icy water thrown over her skin. But she furrowed her brow and forced herself onto shaking legs. “Who are you?”

The fox and owl, standing behind the form, blinked at her their expressions startled yet impressed by her boldness. But then the shape in front of them growled and they lowered themselves closer to the floor: “I’m the Master of this castle.” He stepped forward and vanished into one of the shadowy corners of the room, but Belle saw two orbs of twilight blue fixed on her, two orbs that kept away from the square of moonlight shining from the single window of the room.

She straightened her spine and forced herself to meet the eyes face on. “I’m here for you to release my father.”

There was a flash of white that was accompanied by a snarling laugh, “Does the outside world now have no punishment for theft?”

“Theft?” Belle echoed in disbelief. She heard heavy footsteps as the creature stepped closer and Belle wrapped her fingers around the bars of the cell, keeping her from moving away.

“I forgave him for trespassing into my castle and how does he repay the shelter I gave him? He steals one of my roses.”

Belle spluttered in disbelief. “Are you insane? My father is sick! He could die in here! And you’re keeping him prisoner because he took a rose!?” The stranger rendered her silent with a vicious growl that made her flinch and press her back against the bars. What kind of man made such inhuman noises? What kind of man did her father call ‘it’?

“Sick or not he is my prisoner!” the shadows growled. “I will not let his crime go unpunished!”

Belle scowled in disgust as her father spoke up, his chilly hand falling over hers. “Just go, Belle. Please.”

“Listen to your father,” the ‘it’ advised, twilight eyes turning away from her, dismissing her. “Leave.”

           “What if you take me instead?”

The question sent the entire room into stillness. Belle swallowed, the offer had fallen off her lips before she could decide if she wanted to make it or not. But now that she had she knew in her heart that it was-if not the right thing to do-the Belle thing to do.

“What?” the once snarling voice had gone soft into a disbelief that actually sounded vulnerable. “You…you want to take his place?”

“No, Belle!” Maurice’s voice cracked with desperation.

She disregarded her father’s pleas. “Would you let him go?”

“I would.” The points of twilight moved as he nodded. “But understand if you take his place you have to stay here, there is no going back. You will live here for the rest of your life.”

Belle took in a breath, for a moment wondering if this was punishment for rejecting Gaston. But in the end it didn’t matter. No matter if she was eager to return home or dreading to-she would not leave her father to die cold and alone.

“Belle, please!” her father continued to beg. “You don’t know what that thing is!”

Another spark of white, “Your father makes a good point.”

Belle’s brow furrowed. “Then what are you?”

The twilight slowly blinked and then moved forward, stepping into the patch of moonlight that shone on the floor. The first thing Belle saw were paws instead of feet, long, beast like, covered in stormy dark gray fur and ending in curled black claws. Her eyes moved up to see ripped leather trousers and white shirt, hands that were more animal-like than human and a black cape over broad shoulders. And then she reached the stranger’s face: it too was covered in thick dark fur with dots of white standing out like snow flakes. He had a long elongated snout, two sharp canines curling out of his top lip, triangular ears folded back against his skull. It was like Belle was standing before a creature that was more wolf than man.

She choked out a frightened gasp, her knees giving and making her slid to the floor. Maurice grabbed her shoulders: “Belle listen, I’ve lived my life. Go back to your brothers and sisters.”

The creature…the beast…watched her with dismissive eyes. He expected her to run…

But if she did Maurice would die. She looked over her shoulder and met her beloved father’s frightened eyes. “Goodbye, Papa.”

Belle forced herself back onto her feet, gently pulling herself away from Maurice’s grasping hands and stepped into the lunar glow. She looked up at the tall creature, “I-I will take his place. I’ll stay with you…forever… You have my word.”

If he was surprised by her agreement he did not show it, instead he growled a soft “done” and walked around her to unlock Maurice’s cell. Belle held her clenched, shaking fists to her side. She kept her eyes ahead as the beast dragged her father past her (“No, please. She’s just a girl she doesn’t know what she’s saying!”) and out of the room. Once he and her captor had vanished Belle released a broken sob and fell down to the floor, hiding her face in her hands as she tried to hold back the terror that wanted to drown her in her own tears.

           Renard and Plumes watched her with sympathy for a moment before turning to follow their master, ready to tell the rest of the castle they had a new, and permanent, guest.

[nicksstoryvault]

It always felt like Madison was ensnared in a constant moment, a prisoner within an interminable dream. For days she was kept isolated from the warmth of sunlight, the cool quench of water--and the opened freedom the valley offered to her restless spirit. It devasted her with an influx of heartache to remain locked inside a murky disused stable, to feel damp pieces silage prick at her alabaster skin--- to feel a spike dread mounting each time she caught a whiff of rancid blood filtering the humid breeze. It was a barbaric world to survive, the encroaching masses of fear never receded, and she existed as a shadow.

Her mythical form of equine beauty was considered a worthy prize for raiders, the blood in her veins was pure and filled with a vitality that if a human seized it, he would become an unstoppable force on the battleground. That was the prime reason why she was secluded into the depths of the forest, her father avowed to protect her ---not allow those vile Roman hunters shackle her down, not like her beloved mother. That ultimate choice had amorphized him into a unmerciful and elusive chimera--he was a malignant nightmare that galloped fiercely in the darkness, incapacitating men who dared to engage him.

Each passing fade of sunset, Bucky grew colder in spirit, hungering for mortal retribution and allowing the possessive control of unbridled strength to drive him further into blacken void. Mattie understood the extent of his choice, and honored it by never breaking her devotion from him---she loved her father, even though he was becoming more like a untamed stallion. They were survivors--fighters living on the edge of humanity, enduring the degenerate reality and never allowing the utmost of grief to break them down.

 Setting a stone bowl of freshly picked damson plums and diced melons on a wooden table, Mattie waited for her father to return from outside the stable house, the aroma of charred pork evoked hunger to rise, as she lowered her lithe weight against bed of hay, feeling her four hooves cement into the ground. It wasn’t easy being a young centaur foal, half over her tiny body was enlarged mass of chocolate-mahogany fur, with a cascading tail that flowed wth silken tresses, she was considered a true marvel of ethereal and untouchable beauty, she wielded elegance fluidly, harboring the softness of gentle human girl while bred to face the phalanx of metallic black eagles that dominated the world. She was an enchanted princess in forgotten kingdom--striving to regain hope as the day grew overcast with a crimson hue. 

Suddenly, a thunderous clap of hooves intruded the stable, Mattie reined her head up, instinctively, as her dark-coffee jeweled eyes beheld the magnificent and enormous male centaur standing in the archway of wooden beams. The horseman known as James Buchanan Barnes towered over her with a seven-foot tall stature, his dark chestnut fur matted as his long tail slashed against the heaviness of his broad muscled hind -legs, his mass was larger in bulk, as his dense torso of human flesh was sculpted with a chiseled definition of a Spartan combatant. He was strikingly fearsome and stoic against the contrasts of shadow. His human visage bore youthful and hawkish features, shapely full lips with curved into a boyish pout, broad and knife-edged jawline with an indented dimple. The depth of his intense blue eyes held a luminous blaze of glacial fire, molten steel mixed with aquamarine, disarmingly reflecting back defiance and undisguised pain. The changes were appearing more notable, his ears had grown larger with a point, mane was unkempt with a length that draped at his shoulders---he was gradually becoming a full horse. A curse that all centaurs accepted when the measures grief were too unbound. “Geia sou bampáka (Hello, Daddy),” she greeted with a Greek cadence, gliding on her hooves until her head buried in his naked torso. “Échete éna kaló kynígi? (Did you have a good hunt?” she asked, nuzzling the solid flesh and fur.

"To paichnídi eínai skédasi. I dysodía tou anthrópou tous odigeí makriá. (Game is scattering. The stench of men is driving them away.)" Though there was an edge of frustration in his deep tone, the centaur's expression was measurably soft as he takes in the sight of his beautiful off-spring rising off her bed of hay. "But don't worry, mikrí mou agápi (little darling). Your daddy managed to catch a boar that will sustain us for weeks to come," he says with a warm smile, trotting further into the stable where he begins to clear the make-shift table they used for their dinner. "Did you enjoy your plums and melons?" He asks, surprising her by his use of the common tongue that was brought into the world by the new Roman Emperor who had forged new words from Latin, and seared its understanding into all the creatures—man and beast—within his provinces. Though the centaur more often chose the speech passed onto his kind by his creators, he knew the importance of harnessing new knowledge for both himself and his little foal.

Feeling the immeasurable warmth of his raspy pacifying timbre,  Mattie nodded in avid response, turning her head back to the table where the stone bowl of fruit had been set in the center. It was bountiful offering that wouldn’t be discarded, plums were growing scarce as Imperial soldiers infested the valleys, leaving a barren ground in the wake of their destruction. Her kinfolk were almost extinct, as most of them faded into slave ranks--becoming full stallions and mares, their memories vacant and their eyes soulless black. She dreaded that soon her father would become a warhorse. The menacing light in his steel-blue eyes reflected that impending fate. Alarmed by that foreseen shift, she recoiled back, wearing a guarded, unfettered semblance over her delicate elfin features as she began her task of setting plates and goblets on the table. “Did you see anybody that looks like us out there, Daddy?” she quested timidly, a sudden prick of unshed tears began to ravage her vision. She closed her eyes for a moment, knowing to avoid the mention of her mother.

Bucky grew still for a moment as he understood the hesitation of his daughter's question. He felt a coil of unease in his body as thoughts of an unearthly beauty with the same eyes as Mattie's filled his thoughts. He feels a pang in his chest, so intense he releases a shuddering breath. "No. If there is any of our kin left out there, they are either hiding like us or…" His words hung in the air, leaving a cold emptiness as the gravity of what the other possibility became apparent. He knew how many of his kind were fading into myth as the times continued to change. Those that remained were either hunted for sport, or had found a measure of solitude to live out for the remainder of their days. The centaurs were once the most formidable warriors that moved throughout Ancient Greece, created by the gods to serve their will. Despite the strength that existed in his blood, Bucky knew that his past was a mystery even to himself. His dreams were filled with faces he did not recognize, cities that were grander than that of Rome itself. But the one thing that remained a constant was that of his family—of the woman he loved. Selina, a fair centaur maiden with the tenacity of a bull, the strength of a titan, and the beauty of Aphrodite. His beloved wife and the mother of his children who had vanished more than a month ago out near the edge of the forests. The abyss her absence left in his heart was only widened by missing both Aurora and Brennen. His firstborns, also twins, who had shared different fates than that of their father and sister. "We should eat," he tells Mattie, hoping to distract himself as his thoughts became swamped by the harrowing memories of loss.

Complying to her father's monotone resonance ghost deeply with ache, Mattie trotted gracefully to the other end of the table, her lanky limbs eluded heaps of hay that always tangled in her tail strands. She braced her lithesome weight against stall, lowering the horse part of her enchanted body into an elegant stance, her white furred socked hooves crossed, as she placed her elbows on the wooden edge, looked unnerved by the unruly cascade of her luxurious dark hair obstructing her sight. "Daddy, can you tie my hair back, it's not fun eatin' like this..." she fussed in a melodious voice, pursing her ruby lips into a girlish pout, conveying the gravity of her inner vexations. Existing as a halfling foal evoked unnatural revulsion to stir within her, a blaze of memory pierced her soul, telltale feelings that she was never born as a young horse maiden. "I don't like being a little monster..."

"Daughter, little darling…" The centaur alpha says with a softly chiding voice, come to her side, his brow pinched with a degree of sorrow that came each time she revealed her own self-depreciation. Gently, his large hands reach out and pull on her long silken mane of mahogany colored locks. "You are not a monster. I know it is difficult to not feel different when you look upon yourself. But its simply a beauty that cannot be compared with the common one you see in men and women," he assures her with genuine warmth. Not so many times in the past, he looked upon himself feeling as if he were the monster in the shadows that mother's told their children to be wary of—to be afraid of. But once his eyes were blessed with the uncontended visage of beauty that existed in both his beloved Selina, and his dear Madison, Bucky knew that the ugliness within did not create monsters. "Always remember, my little darling. It is your actions that make you who you are, not what you look and feel like. Feel proud of what you are, and know that you're special and kind. As a father, I could not ask for a more beautiful daughter." Once he had succeeded in tying his little foal's hair back into a braid, the centaur bends down and softly kisses the top of her brow.

The young foal maiden closed her eyes to the gentle wake of reassurance that carried through her father’s deep and soothing timbre, the fullness of his shapely lips graced reverent warmth, delivering a promising kiss that she knew was indefinitely unbreakable. It was the essence of strength and love, so pure that melted a convergence in her veins. She leaned hear back, resting her knotted strands over the thickened density of his bare chest, believing that somehow they would exist through each dark storm that clashed when Romain soldiers invaded their valley. Still, she felt tortured by the reality that soon her beautiful and powerful father would descend further into the curse that spawned by the cruel hands of Rome, that would bridle his defiance and enslave his soul. She didn’t want her father to share the fate of being a stallion thrall, but that impending tomorrow was shadowing over them.

 “Oh, Daddy, please do not allow the spell to take you,” she urged in a sniffle, her lyrical tone edged with a taint of despair when she gazed deeply into his soulful steel-blue eyes, watching the angelic light of his warrior's spirit dimming with dismal coldness. “We’ll find a way to fight, Daddy and save all the beautiful horses that were like us...Like Mommy.”

His daughter's distressful cries challenged Bucky's sense of self-restraint. He knew in his heart that her fears were justified. Each day he felt the pull of baser instincts that came with the transformation that occurred to his kind. The magic that permeated his body would someday, perhaps soon, turn him into a full stallion that men would seek to tame and ride for sport or battle. There would be little left of the centaur—he was beneath the surface. The idea of this fate did not frighten him, but it made him feel anxious for his own precious Mattie. What would become of her once he turned and if she remained the same? How could he protect her then? How could… "We cannot avoid the future, daughter. It is inevitable, but I can tell you it isn't something to fear," Bucky tells her while holding her close in his massive arms, covering her fleshy torso completely in his embrace and whispering soothing words of their tongue against her hair. "I will never be far too gone, regardless of what I become. Your father, I, will always be here with you." His words were more than fatherly reassurance, they were a vow he would never allow himself to break. He would beat the curse in his body, and fight it with all his might and heart.

Pivoting on her four hooves with balletic ease and graceful poise, Mattie balanced her weight back to a grounded stance, parallel to Bucky’s massive, intimating shadow, there was a sudden awkwardness, it didn’t natural to her, almost like she was combatting this damned existence of being a juvenile foal, who would soon blossom into a maturing centaur maiden, sharing the untouchable, fierce beauty of her mother’s visage, and the blazing spirit of defiance of her father. She couldn’t dismiss the feeling of being sequestered from a distinctive reality--maybe before they weren’t centaurs, but human. 

Staring at the stone bowl of chopped plums and grapes, Mattie felt hunger instinctively sailing back into her, and she knew that Bucky hadn’t eaten a feast since dawn. Her dark jeweled eyes connected to the male centaur, passively mirroring the intense pale aquamarine depths flecked with cool steel, his eyes held unquelled torment, unmeasurable heartache, and heated remorse for his captured love —his horse maiden--Selina. Bucky tortured himself every day for allowing Selina to become seized with ropes, and weighted nets. He protected his precious infant foal, racing into the forest and never looking back. It was a curse to remember that painful moment when she was taken by the ruthless hands of Roman soldiers. 

There were only echoes of blithe memories glinting in Bucky’s anguished, fervent blue eyes, she wouldn’t allow the darkness of their darkened past obstruct their moment of embracing freedom--love in their untamed forms. Deftly, she caressed his large, ax-wielding hand, her tiny fingers swept over his rough knuckles as she felt his pulse steadying under her calming touch. “You will always be my Daddy, if you become like the others, I will take care of you...”