War Horse Novels & Stories

"That's great. Because the Warhorse is a bit ferocious, it is taking a little longer to arrive. Please accept my apologies, Alfred." "No worries, Baron." Alfred smiled, but his mind was cursing the baron. ' You purposefully chose a vicious warhorse for me to ride! Let's see how embarrassed you are once I ride it effortlessly!' Hoofbeats could soon be heard as a tall black warhorse emerged from under Wise's lead. It appeared to be peaceful, calm and composed. After a brief moment of hanging up and sniffing the air, the horse's head abruptly pivoted to face Alfred. Its eyes were a vivid red colour.

White wolves are omega, omega belongs to the alphas, they are our babies, and it's our job to take good care of them. Back in the old days, the omega used to be killed, they weren't needed since the war between clans was on and the Omegas were too vulnerable to keep. Most of the omegas died, and now after the war ended, the omegas are cherished, they are rare and precious, having an omega is a sign of welfare, a sign of being a very strong pack. A pack that can take care of omega is one that's very wealthy, and powerful, the other five clans that have the omegas, are the most known clans, wolves who want to join other packs try their best to join those big clans.

I look at him. "She is beautiful. Honestly, if you put a horn on this horse she could pass as a unicorn", I slowly stroke her body, she is perfect. "She is an Andalusian horse, Jaguar is a Friesian horse and fish, well fish is a fish" I laugh shaking my head, he is far from a fish, and Jaguar is beautiful and black, he reminds me of the story black beauty. "Okay Fish is a Knabstrupper, I had hoped MJ would look at the spots and call him Dalmatian, spot, but no he got fish" I laugh, the horse is unusual I have never seen a horse with spots.

Rodrigo galloped faster and faster on his horse. He was riding a sprightly mare named Hera. She was stark white and so beautiful. An absolute pleasure to ride. He loved that his stud farm covered acres of land, allowing him to ride for miles without any probing eyes. And he did ride, every single day if possible. His morning rides were the highlight of his days. He stopped Hera at a small little hilltop and gazed over his lands with awe. In the morning sunlight, he could see the farm already in action. Horses grazed in the pastures. Xerxes was training in the special enclosure designed for him. His staff was going about their duties, moving in and out of the various sheds and buildings. He l

She always believed I could do things others thought I couldn’t. That memory wrapped around me now like a shield. I leaned forward, whispering against the horse’s ear. “Hey, big guy. I’m not your enemy, alright? Just help me get through this without breaking my neck. You and me—we’re on the same side.” The horse snorted. My lips twitched. “Yeah, I know I sound like a damn idiot. But just… trust me here.” For a heartbeat, the horse’s ears flicked back and forth. Its muscles shifted under me like it was testing me, weighing me. And then—clear and sharp—a whistle cut through the air from somewhere in the crowd. The horse stilled, head jerking slightly, then relaxed.

A dear friend? I would have loved to ask her who this dear friend was but I knew that was a deeply personal question, instead I asked, “have you been to the Blackthorne pack of late? Perhaps you have heard that Luna has a special warhorse, Sheila? I am looking for a horse that can rival that,” I could not see her eyes but I could sense that she was looking at me rather curiously. “I have heard of this horse. Allegedly it is more than a war horse, it can sense danger and warn her master and she can also fight. Do you mind me asking what you need this horse for?” she asked me.

“Some local championships are going on. Some starting tomorrow. Maybe your friend Willa will take you along. You have to see what it is like." With that, he strode away. I headed to the house. And right on call, Willa had come to search for me the next day. Horses were a thing in this part of Veridian. Although they used cars as well. But it was on rare occasions. Back in the north, our wolves and cars were okay. I rode behind Willa on the back of her white horse which I learned the name was Winner. She named him that because she wanted a name similar to hers and a name that meant something.

The mood was high—victory woven through every laugh and barked command. I spotted the Storm banners fluttering near a cluster of wagons. Men in hunting gear stood near stacked pelts and tied quarry. I scanned the group until I saw him. He was stepping down his horse, gloves off, sword sheathed. Snow clung to his boots, and a slash of dried blood marked the side of his forehead. His coat was scuffed, fur collar damp with melting snow and streaks of mud. I hurried towards him. "Darrell—" He turned, and his eyes lit with surprise. "Clara—"

The news was not good. Mack approached just as the young man got back on the horse. “Magnificent horse. Does she have a name.” he asked. “Thank you. Her name is Animae. It means soul.” The young man said. “I should probably water her before I put her in the trailer.” He said turning the horse away and taking her to the back through some trees.

He was suffocated by it every day. She wasn’t lying when she said her beast was ruled by her emotions, she was out of control. A train too close to running off the tracks. A tip of the scale and she would fall into oblivion. “It is no longer just our war. It’s a war to end everything as we know it.” Norman spoke up, hurt filling his voice.