Gallery

Cassandra jerked back as the spirited mare in front of her made a play at biting her fingers. “None of that now,” Cassandra replied firmly as she straightened her red tunic and brushed some of the dirt off her black pants. “You know we have a show coming up and you need to have that silver malbec tail of yours groomed. I’ve never seen it this bad, and given how long it is, that’s going to take some time.”  ...

It was the end of the world. Or so everyone claimed. Gwen, herself, felt oddly calm about it. She’d seen something similar a few times over the years. Always the end of the world.  “You’re not gonna panic on me, are you Uiscefhuaraithe?” Gwen asked as she stroked the blueberry horse’s neck. “Can’t have you panicking every time the world around here tries to end.”  ...

Gwen sat quietly next to the spring. The woods were quiet save the bubbling of the water. Normally it was a place and a quiet she adored. A moment of silence in the chaos that was often her life. Right now, however, a part of her loved it and a part of her hated it. The quiet let the grief in, and for however much she knew she needed to allow that feeling it’s space within her heart, it was hard when it was so sharp. Like daggers tearing her to pieces, or mons...

Cassandra eyed the long tailed, rich coated horses skeptically. They were strong, made for working, and beautifully colored. They weren’t a familiar breed to her yet, but she had to admit the other demonkin had excellent taste in horses.  “Well?” Ellah leaned casually against the fence of the stable.  ...

Adrian eyed the stallion in front of him. It was a handsome horse, probably an easy 17 hands tall. It’s smoky cream color was certainly striking, as was the creatures thick tail. A Loshenka, that’s what they were called. ”Well, what do you think?” The horse traded asked.  “Not my usual kin...

Adrian brushed his long silver hair back into a leather tie, his bright gray eyes studying the horse he was going to be borrowing for the day. The mare’s name was Vanilla Obscura, and she was a pretty little thing. Well, comparatively little. At 15.3hh she was smaller than he was used to. That wasn’t necessarily the horse small so much as he was used to riding bigger, stockier horses.  Vanilla would be the first ...

Gwen sat on the fence of her pond watching the snowy landscape, the snow falling on the hem of her blue dress and barefoot feet. She’d been certain she’d seen movement in the fields, but for the moment...