War Horse Novels & Stories

Jamie was about a quarter of the way home when she started to hear the bustle and panic of people. She turned her to find out what people were shouting about. “Get out of the way, the Lord’s horse is loose!” The Baker shouted. A battalion of men was camped on the outskirts of Fairbridge. They had gone to the plans of Arna to buy horses and dogs that would be trained for use in the army. Arna horses were intelligent and wild, both attributes made them incredible battle horses. They could do as much damage as four trained soldiers.

Vance let out a soft laugh. The stallions were picked for their aggressiveness and were then bred for war where the hostile tendencies were trained, focused and enhanced for both the horse and the rider. Vance stroked the velvety nose of his mount, narrowly missing the snapping teeth once again before turning and nodding curtly to his companion.

Rah followed her to help her choose a good horse for her journey. As they entered the stables, almost all the horses became hyper-active and started getting extremely restless in her company. "She is good," Rah pointed at a grey horse. "No..." Mila spoke as she looked at the horse. "Why do werewolves travel on horses, when you know," Rah trailed off. "When we can transform and run as fast or even faster?" Mila laughed. "Well, yeah!" Rah laughed too awkwardly. "This one," Mila spoke as she caressed the muzzle of a greyish-white horse and placed her forehead against his. "Vires Celeritas," she whispered to it and the horse jumped on his hind legs and neighed loudly.

Catching up with Kit and Makai, Rex shared with them the information given to him by Hoseok, both sat with shocked expressions. “Have you ever heard of a wolf melding with its human?” Rex asked. “Only once. A long time ago. So far back that I was a cub, his name was Taeyong. I never found out why he needed the meld. Since wolves didn’t care for their humans sides, they pushed them away, deep into the recesses of their mind.” Kit explained.

They said they had met demons and terrifying beasts in Death Valley. Lily looked over at Venn, somewhat suspiciously, and asked, "Did the prince really tell you that?" "Really, Lily." “Do you know what that place is like?” Venn shook his head and replied, "Death Valley is a place for wolf warriors to practice their fighting skills."

At the very least, the princess is going to be safe. The female general marched towards the door, followed by the messenger. They went out of the fortress and into the gate where more or less a hundred men were waiting for her orders. The leaders were standing before them, mounted on a Cimēræ. A horse for the war that's immune to the power of the fire. Dana's own Cimēræ was waiting for her, a reddish-brown and tall horse with regal saddle and reins. She mounted him with ease and eyed her soldiers.

Harvey is a beautiful American Paint Horse. He is a mix of Blank and White and I will admit he is my favorite. He is a very docile creature and he has helped me more than most people know. Harvey was the first horse I was introduced to when I started equestrian therapy. I was a bit intimidated by him, but he proved to be just what I needed. He dealt with me on my good and my bad days and was always there when I needed him. And tonight I need him again.

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—"

“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.

In his place sat a massive, iron-grey wolf the size of a warhorse, his broad chest rising and falling with heavy, vaporous breaths. The horse beneath him didn't bolt; it was accustomed to the change. The outlaws’ horses, however, screamed in terror, rearing up on their hind legs and throwing their riders into the snow. "Lykan!" one of the renegades shrieked, scrambling backward on his hands and knees. "It’s a war-pack!" The beast that had been Commander Kaelen didn't bark. He launched himself from the saddle, flying through the freezing air like a siege bolt.