Fallen Crest Horse Novels & Stories

They averted my gaze and bowed. Luckily I didn't bump into anyone I didn't want to. In a few minutes, we were outside the stables. Orien was saddling a horse whose chest-nut color caught my eyes. Judging from its height, it was nothing less than sixty inches. I looked from its expressive head that went sideways every now and then to its broad forehead and prominent dark eyes to its upright well arched neck, its laid back shoulders, its not so long back, its well defined withers and its strong legs. Definitely a Morgan.

“Giddy up!” The horse obediently started a canter. On the horse’s back, feeling the wind in her face, Amanita slowly started feeling better. Their lesson that day was to ride through an obstacle course. Amanita had to guide her horse over three barriers. The difficulty was very high. When a barrier was right in front of her, her horse jumped up for some reason. While they were in the air, the straps of the saddle suddenly broke. Amanita fell from her horse out of nowhere.

There had to be at least thirty stalls total all immaculately kept with a variety of different horse breeds poking their heads through open stall doors. A coal black Arabian played with the ends of my hair while I stopped to pet a rust and cream colored Paint. But the most magnificent of all of the beasts in this barn was in the very last stall. Kingston, was an Eighteen hand Gypsy Vanner stallion, with a jet black coat and white dappling on his hind quarters. His mane and tail were snow white with his feathers matching. I stood back as Ronan opened the stall and led the massive horse out. I could tell just by looking at the two there was a long, loving history between the two of them.

I looked for him when I went down. “He’s in the stable.” Linden knew I was looking for Cenric. “Thanks!” I could see the stable from where I stood in the foyer. My excitement took the best of me. I sprinted toward the stable. Cenric was talking to the caretaker when I arrived.“Babe, meet your horse.” He was holding the rope of the most beautiful black horse I’d ever seen. Arabian. I opened my mouth to say something, but I just ended up staring at the horse. I touched his mane, down to its body. It was already attached to the saddle. I climbed up, and the horse did not even move.

"Then forget it!" He cut my words off, he didn't let me finish, and looked away from me with his face that was kinda offended, and it made me wonder if he was also trying hard to be my friend too, it looked weird, might be the most stupidest thing to ever assume, but I didn't wanted the conversation to just die this way, even though I wasn't sure of any single thing, so I parted my lips and chuckled out to ease the air "I have a horse back at home!"

“He paid me. He orchestrated the media hits. The poison - it was supposed to make you collapse, humiliate you. Proof you weren’t fit to lead.” I smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “And where,” I asked gently, “is Nolan Crestfall right now?” The man’s lips parted. Then closed. Opened again. “I - I don’t know. He didn’t plan to attend tonight.” That landed harder than the name. Around us, wolves looked at one another. Because that was the part that didn’t fit. Crestfall never missed a Vale gala. Never. Cameron stepped forward then, fully into view, his presence snapping the room’s attention to him like a whip crack. Blood loss or not, wound or not, he radiated Alpha authority so clean and sharp i

She found the smell of warm Kelpies and fresh hay strangely comforting, Duncan’s scent was strong in here too. “I guess he spends most of his time here.” “True Greta, I guess he does.” Greta pushed Jen to follow Duncan’s scent and at the end of it they found an empty stall. This must be the Kelpie she saw Duncan riding out on, she looks at the name plate above the door, ‘Burn’, his Kelpie is called Burn. Jen suddenly remembered why she had come here and it wasn’t to stalk Duncan, she started to look around for the foals, she wandered along the stalls looking at the magnificent creatures, most of them too busy with breakfast to be interested in her. She was halfway along the vast building whe

He could pick up two distinct scents from the blood, one belonging to the horse and the other belonging to a human, Maya's, he presumed. "That was a stable horse from the castle," Xaren pointed out, drawing Triston's and the others attention. He had gotten down to a squat position at the head of the horse and was holding up a brown leather patch he had taken from the horse, pressed into the leather was the Elyrian royal crest. He stretched it over to Triston.

Roxanne changed quickly, her eyes shining with excitement. "You look beautiful in anything, my fair princess," Jaxon complimented her as she stepped out. He took her to the stable, where twenty horses of different breeds awaited. There was Sugarplum, a beautiful chestnut mare with a white blaze on her forehead, Noir, a sleek black stallion with a star-shaped marking on his nose, a proud Arabian named Zephyr, a gentle giant of a Shire horse named Thunder, and several others, each with their unique markings and personalities.

Cheryl praised, hugging the horse's neck. Rusty was an intelligent horse. He recognized Cheryl immediately, even though they had only met once before. Another horse might have thrown her off in this situation because they felt uncomfortable, but not Rusty. He continued to move calmly. His legs moved fast, but his body remained steady. However, there was one thing Cheryl didn't realize. There was a hole and a tree branch blocking their path. Rusty lost control. He stumbled and fell to the ground. Cheryl was thrown off, rolling several times until her back hit the grapevine fence. Her head hit a stone, causing her to wince in pain. But it wasn't her head that was the problem; it was Rusty who