Novel Horse Novels & Stories

All of this seemed to have happened yesterday. Seeing the nostalgic look in Emily's eyes, Louise knew that Emily was thinking of the past. She nudged Emily and said, "Emily, have you chosen one?" "It's so beautiful!" Emily was about to speak when she heard the children's cry. She turned around and saw a snow-white horse, which was as beautiful as a unicorn, elegant, and noble. It looked pure and didn't seem to belong to the racecourse. "A customer keeps the horse here. The others can't ride it," the staff said apologetically.

Aslan looked happy, because he was free to leave the gates of the house, especially free to ride. Like Hujan's black horse, the white horse also didn't want to enter the black forest which was across from the riding area. The difference is that the white horse is smoother, the white horse stops slowly and then turns its back to the black forest. Hujan realized what was in front of him, he got off the horse. Taking something from under the cloak, a white shawl, he covered the White Horse's eyes with the shawl. He hugged Kang Putih lovingly while whispering.

He came back with a beautiful Palamino mare, and I quickly walked toward him to stroke the mare’s head. “I thought you could ride Melys,” he said. I smiled happily and took over her halter, “Yes, please. She is gorgeous.” Colin gave me a suave look, “Beautiful horse for a beautiful woman.” I rolled my eyes and tied Melys to a pole so I could brush and saddle her. Colin disappeared and later came back with a tall brown horse, “This is my horse, R****h.” I chuckled, “The big bad alpha Colin names his horse R****h? What is your dog’s name? Twinkletoes?”

The horses are no longer symbols of fear but of possibility, proof that even things born in darkness can choose the light. Tonight, the forest has given us a gift: new allies, new strength. The enchanted horses, still shimmering faintly with moonlit magic, are ushered into the meadow just beyond the village’s edge. They step lightly, their wings fluttering, tails flicking as they explore their new freedom, their eyes bright and friendly. With the horses safely settled, the others disperse. Hanna and Roxy head inside our house to discuss wedding plans. Corwin and Harla drive the mule-led wagon straight to the butchers and cooks waiting for the elk.

But there was something about the way he looked at me now—steady, intent like he would not take no for an answer— that made it impossible to refuse. “Of course,” I said, closing the book and rising to my feet. He led me to the stables where two horses were already been saddled by a young boy who seemed far content to pay them mind than look at us, the scent of hay and leather filled the air as the horses shifted in their stalls. I stood by one of the stall, admiring the horses alpha Cormac’s mount, a striking black stallion, that pawed at the ground impatiently. "His name is Hades" he mumbled running his hands through the mane, I nodded but my gaze was drawn to the smaller horse

The simple contact makes me shiver as he breaks the rules once more and touches me. “They have had many names, but dead horses are the literal translation of the oldest name I have ever found for them. I train the dead horses in my spare time. We have over fifty of them which we can ride, and they pull our carriages when we aren’t breeding them. Wild dead horses are difficult to train, but perhaps you would like to help me in your new home,” he offers, and it seems honest enough. A dream, really. “I’d really like that,” I say with a cautious smile.

He was the Supreme. Supreme and Princess; young man and young woman; children with exceptional backgrounds and great talent that allowed them to disregard everything, were riding their mounts speedily. Their mounts were Red Maned Horses, and they rode them so swiftly that the creatures moved with the speed of the wind. Their blurry figures were all that could be seen as they raced towards the land that every sane person raced away from.

I press my forehead against the horse's warm body, hesitating to mount. Being a former White, there are so many things I can do—things that were added to all the White children’s curriculum—and horse riding is one of them. But since it’s Saturn’s hobby, and I’ve watched the girl ride so many times, I can’t help being reminded about her. “We’re back here again, hoppy,” I mumble while gently hitting my head against the horse. Hoppy is Saturn’s horse, and this one looks close to Hoppy. The loud hoot of an owl scares me; causes me to whip my head toward the woods, nervous eyes scanning the trees.

“Aube” is a French word meaning “dawn,” symbolizing purity and new beginnings. This name reflects the horse's pristine white appearance and the fresh start it represents. The horse was an astonishing shade of white—so pure it seemed untouched by the world. Even its hooves and ear tips were free from any blemish, like a creature sculpted from snow. Grace had chosen Aube in Poland when she was just fifteen. Now, eleven years later, the mare was approaching her sixteenth birthday. Born of champion bloodlines, both her parents were world-class equestrian competitors.

She'd been explaining these opinions to Cas for the past twenty minutes, showing him her newest block stable—a three-story architectural marvel that incorporated not just horses but what appeared to be a complete small-town ecosystem including a bakery, a library, and something she was calling a "community center for horse meetings." "And this part," she said, pointing to a section constructed from purple and blue blocks, "is where the horses discuss important matters. Like what hay is best and whether afternoon walks should be longer." "Horses have parliamentary discussions in your stable?" Cas examined the structure with complete seriousness. "That's democratic governance I hadn't anticipa