#killpen

[percivore]

Percy’s op ship codex part 1/?

Had people drop ships to see what my opinions on them were on twitter, these are what I’ve got so far!

No particular order, which are your favorites and do you agree with my assessments If you have different thoughts on their dynamics id love to hear them ❣️

[valya-q3q]

Давненько хотела их нарисовать

А тут попалась эта фотка

[captainbutterbuns]

Love is in the air...at least for two lovely bachelors. You can read the full fic HERE! Thank you @opkillerzine for having me! <3

[vaguely-existing-as-a-person]

Appeal for help:

A mare I once took care of, which was the sweetest horse as long as you spent time with her, has been bred. She has doubtful genetics, the stud used has even worse genetics.

The people that currently own them own a notorious horse-butchering operation (for dog food). It’s all barely legal, the horses get stalled in with pigs, the stable is ill-ventilated and perpetually kept dark.

They have a tiny pasture to share with 30+ other horses (it is continually added to the herd as fattened up horses get taken to the butcher’s block). For forage they get, at best, cow silage, at worst incredibly moldy hay. And no vets get called there, since the old head of the whole operation does not want any strangers on the property.

Most people I have spoken to about this just tell me to call the authorities, but in Austria there is no way to help the horses in this way. As long as they get fed (even with moldy hay), they have shelter (a mud paddock that is just knee-deep mud all year with a few pillars and a tarp over it for shade), water and a stable (to share with pigs) they don’t consider it a matter of urgency.

I would buy the mare and foal from them, just to get them out, but I have my wonderful heart horse to take care of first and foremost. Not to mention that I am only in my twenties and therefore do not have the best income.

I’ll add a picture of the mare and of the foal (born on the 18th of August 2023) in the comments, together with a comparison of the mare from back when I was working with her versus now.

I know this is unconventional, but I’ll be trying my best to get them out of there. However, I will need help, so my friend and I set up a GoFundMe for Sally and her foal, to both post their bail and deal with the extensive vet and farrier care they will both need.

https://gofund.me/b82599c0

Any help is appreciated, whether through donations or sharing this post.

TL;DR:

A sweet little mare is in need of rescuing from a horse-butcher / puppy mill but for horses. It’s in Austria, and flies under the radar of the law, and there is no legit horse rescue here.

[casualartifice]

My mom has been working to try and rescue some horses for over a year now and it's ended up putting us in some serious financial issues. On top of that, many of the horses have not even been able to find good homes, instead being resold for profit and mistreated. We're trying to do the best we can with what we have left, but money is drying up fast, making bills and mortgages an issue on top of everything required to maintain horses.

If you can help at all, or even just boost this message, it would be greatly appreciated.

[horsegamesins-old]

OC lore: Alexei's mother's horses

Al's childhood home is located 1 km (0.6 miles) outside Dundull. They have a stable that can house 10 horses. Mrs. Sparrowhawk gets most of her income from leasing horses & stalls, and organizing guided trail rides.

The horses:

Apollo

24 y/o Finnhorse stallion

Gentle & quiet under saddle, breaks every stallion stereotype. Alexei's main horse from age 10 until she moved out. He does have a habit of breaking out of his paddock, but he has (miraculously) only gone missing once. Has earned some prizes in cross country and endurance competitions, but never properly learned to jump higher than 70cm (~2ft). Imported from Finland as a 3 y/o when Al's mom moved to Jorvik & used to be up for stud when he was younger.

Weleho

30 y/o Finnhorse gelding

Mrs. Sparrowhawk's ex competition horse. Eager to please in the dressage ring, and spicy enough to score in showjumping. A little grumpy but a sucker for treats. He's now retired from heavy work, only leading the occasional light trail ride. Imported from Finland as a 9 y/o.

Steffy

18 y/o Shire gelding

Rescued from a killpen as a 2 year old. Mrs. Sparrowhawk's first project horse in Jorvik. He's a bit skittish and spooky without a buddy, but extremely kind and willing.

Deedee

(Grey Dartmoor pony, I don't have it ingame so no pics (will edit this once I get it))

21 y/o Dartmoor pony mare

Bought to be Alexei's first lesson horse, and served them well until Al switched to Apollo. Very speedy and has a big personality that's easy to fall in love with. She has now been doing trail rides for 8 years and enjoys every bit of it.

Jam

15 y/o Icelandic Horse gelding

Little trickster that oozes "pony energy". He was bought at 8 years old from a family that could no longer care for him. Nothing too special, just a reliable and fun trail horse.

Timpani

17 y/o Appaloosa Mule gelding

This one's a long story. Alexei was chosen for the Redwood Point Ranger-scouts, and due to the rough terrain of Wildwoods everyone is required to have a Ranger approved horse. Apollo would have been perfect, if he hadn't been missing at that time. So, a bit reluctantly, Al went to see what they had for lease, and ended up picking Timpani for his smooth gaits and hardy nature. A few years later the Rangers put him for sale, and Al's mom bought him for trail riding.

Zappy

6 y/o Black Forest Horse mare

Mrs. Sparrowhawk found her in an auction, and immediately fell in love with how kind and curious she was. She ended up being quite expensive, being a rare breed in Jorvik and all, but she was worth every shilling. She has very elegant and light movements, and Mrs. Sparrowhawk is shaping her to be a dressage champion.

[jorvikcowboy]

...and there he is! The new rescue horse I was talking about. According to Josh, who picked him up from the Ferry in Fort Pinta today, he's half feral and a rehabilitation fail. A private stable bought him at an auction and apparently couldn't work with his temper, so after neglecting to meet his needs for over a month, they sent him to a killpen, where Carl bought several horses along with him. Fortunately, the others aren't in an equally bad shape, so my main focus will be on this guy here. We haven't settled on a name yet, but it'll probably be either Spartan or Cyclone.

[draftmare]

Had a really weird dream last night that I saved one of the horses I use to ride in lessons as a teenager from everyone’s worst nightmare of a killpen auction house. I use to like riding him because he was 16 hands (even though he was an old style Appaloosa with no mane or tail) and built like a brick house, where as the other lesson horses were all mostly around 14 hands. He wasn’t particularly nice to ride, though, and his personality was garbage. I honestly just liked him for his size. Not sure why I would dream about him instead of the warmblood mares I use to lust for some day owning, or the palomino QH mare I loved that only a few got to ride.

In my dream I saw him clearly, and called him by name. He was in his mid-teens when I was around the same age, so I’m sure he’s long gone by now.

Surprisingly I have a picture of him, this was well before cellphones had cameras on them, and digital cameras were still quite expensive.

[horsesarecreatures]

2 Babson mares in the OK killpen. I hope I'm doing the right thing by sharing this since I have mixed feelings about a breeder fundraising to get horses they've bred themselves out of the killpen, but many people are struggling right now and I checked out her page and she is supposedly not breeding anymore, so it doesn't sound like she wants them back just to breed some more.

[flabofsteel]

🙏Please Help Rescue 🙏

Hey guys,

I don't normally post things like this, but I'm trying to rescue a thrown away unidentified, late teenager, thoroughbred gelding. He's currently held at the Stroud Killpen and I'd like to pull him earlier than him waiting until I'm paid next Wednesday. The longer he stays at the KP the more likely he can contract viruses and infections (something his body probably couldn't handle).

He is extremely malnourished. His bones are extremely visible and he just needs a soft landing and a good home (which I can provide). He'll need lots of groceries, a farrier (since it seems like he hasn't seen one in years), medical exam, and many other things. He is not 100% sound either so rehabilitation/chiropractor will probably be needed.

You can tell by the way he acts that he is a big gentle sweetheart, and him ending up there is no fault of his own. He will be my third rescue horse to pull from a KP and he'll be my worst case. I've never had a horse so malnourished, but I'm willing to put in the time, effort, patience, and money.

I plan on pulling him Wednesday when I am paid and saving his life, but the fundraiser is just to try and help me get to him sooner. His "bail" is $750 and I'm already $120 there from two people. So we aren't far from the goal. If you're unable to donate would you please share this instead? Any help is greatly appreciated. 🙏

Here is the link to the money pool I've setup for him:

https://www.paypal.com/pools/c/8CobVjhYiE

[kilguin]

Into The Kilguin-Verse

Hope everyone is having a wonderful summer as our summer event is now in full swing. this beautiful banner is made by @ninjantome. How many of the fandoms can you name in there?

A quick reiteration of how this came to be: The Kilguin Chat was inspired over the winter when Into the Spider-Verse was released. Though the idea of having multiple Killers and Penguins from different AUs sound appealing; we're changing the storyline a bit. This summer's event will be sending Killer and Penguin into a different anime, tv show, movie, drama, etc.

Rules:

The main characters has to be Killer and Penguin, it's not a Kilguin event without these two

The setting cannot be related to the One Piece universe UNLESS it starts in the One Piece universe and majority of the story is in another universe.

Somewhere in your description, please put what anime/show/movie/etc that you have put Kilguin in. This is to allow those who may not know of that fandom to explore if they would like.

The event ends on July 31st. However, we will always accept late entries. And honestly the event ends when a new one begins, like we don't change our banner...

The sky's the limit! Be as creative as you'll like with this year's theme. (Writing and drawing aren't the only things we'd accept.) You can post as much as you want, please make sure to tag the @kilguin blow where we will reblog your entries. If you have any questions, please message us!

. 

[allihearisradiogaga]

firey eyes and bathroom floors

a terushima/kyoutani demon au fic

part of the @fantasyhaikyuuexchange

This was written for @killpen !!!  I hope you like it!  I was given “demon,” and when I looked at your list of ships, I immediately picked the rarest pair and wrote for it, because I know it’s hard to get rarepair content!  I hope you enjoy this; it was a heck of a lot of fun to write!

Ship: Kyoutani Kentarou/Terushima Yuuji

AU: demon!Kyoutani

Warnings: alcohol use, hangovers, brief violence, language

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16434977

read the rest of the Fantasy Haikyuu!! Exchange fics here.

It was around two in the morning that Terushima’s memory started to get hazy, but he was pretty sure it had completely given up on him by the time he made it to three thirty.  He’d smoked something someone had given him—that much was clear—but what that was or what was in it was completely beyond his knowledge. There was probably some part of him that knew he shouldn’t have taken it, but that part of him had been quelled by the tequila shots he’d just finished downing—not his first shots of the night, either.

This meant that by the time he woke up the next afternoon, his head pounding with a bass that rivaled the heavy dance music that’d played the night before, he was able to capture a moment to regret every decision he’d ever made before immediately rushing to the bathroom to throw up.

As he lifted his head from the bowl of the toilet, he realized there was someone standing behind him.

“What the hell?” said Terushima, rubbing his head.  “I—”

“You stupid…”  The man trailed off, listing off a string of expletives as he raised his head again.

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need to say that,” said Terushima, waving the strange man away.  “I feel it plenty.”

The man eyed him up and down.  He scowled. This was when, his vision bounding in blurriness in time with the headache, Terushima realized for the first time that this was no ordinary man.  He was tall, his skin was a deep, dark red, and his white hair was interrupted by two jet-black, jagged horns that spiked backward from his temples. Terushima could see the sharp points of his fanged teeth.

"What the hell are you?"  Terushima scrambled backward across the tile floor, moving so that he always kept facing the imposing monster that towered over him, the light behind him so that a shadow cast down from the bathroom light across Terushima's face.  "Why are you here? "

"I'm Kyoutani," said the demon, scowling, "and I'm a demon.  I figured that part would be obvious."

He did have red skin, horns, and a couple of intimidating black markings that extended from below his eyes back through his hair.  That was a pretty clear indication that he definitely wasn't human. But a demon? That wasn't what Terushima was expecting when he rolled out of bed this morning.  The headache he'd expected, but this? This he had not.

"What do you want from me?"

"Just a little light torture," said Kyoutani, scratching at his temple before bending at the waist to better face Terushima at eye level.  "You're really fucking hungover, aren't you? What a stupid asshole you are."

"Hey!"

But Kyoutani didn't seem to hear the protests from the lanky boy who was now backed into that small space between the toilet and the wall.  Instead, he clapped his hands together and produced from between the two of them a pot and a pan, which rested easily in his hands. He grinned devilishly.  "Okay. Here it goes."

He began banging the pot and pan together by the bottoms, the sound of their impact ringing out with resounding clang s each time the two of them collided.  It was a loud, cacophonous noise that was annoying as hell.  But to Terushima, who was currently nursing the world's worst hangover, it was more like hell than a simile was about to depict.  He put his hands up to his ears to stop terrible sounds from reaching them, but as his hands clamped down around his ears—and he noticed for the first time that he was only wearing one of the two earrings he had gone out the night before wearing—he moved them just a bit faster than he really should have, and another wave of nausea overtook him.  He took advantage of the nearby toilet bowl, his fingers curling around the porcelain and unclasping from his ears at the same time as he retched, making him more vulnerable to the sounds of the pot and pan again.

Kyoutani didn't seem as satisfied with himself as he probably should have.  Terushima wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist and looked up at the demon as he lowered the kitchen tools.  "Are you finished?" he asked.

Kyoutani shrugged.  "I mean, I could keep going, but honestly?  This is just pathetic."

"Isn't this your job?"

Kyoutani shrugged again.  "I go to torture people who have engaged in unbecoming activities or some shit like that.  But you're getting tortured enough on your own. My torture isn't adding enough to really make it worthwhile for me to even be here."

“The real torture is your attitude, man…” said Terushima, working his way to his feet, holding his head the whole way.  He shook it slightly, maybe trying to expel the idea of there being a demon in his bathroom completely, but that just made it throb harder.  He stumbled past the demon, who stepped back to let him through, and he rummaged briefly through his open medicine cabinet before finding the bottle of aspirin.  He popped it open before giving himself a few and downing them dry. He was about to turn around but decided he didn’t want to face the demon again, so he bent over a bit so that he could get some water from the faucet, cuping the water in his mouth to bring to his mouth.  Even just that made him want to vomit. Again.

He could hear the demon scoff, but when he lifted his head from the sink and turned around, the demon was gone, and he was left with nothing but his vaguely retch-scented bathroom and one hell of a hangover.

It wasn’t that he thought the demon would come back.  At least, that wasn’t what he was going to let himself believe, that he’d done the longest and sloppiest kegstand of his life followed by a couple of shots and a chaser of who knew what from the party’s jungle juice punchbowl all just so that he could see if that was some sort of hangover-induced hallucination when Kyoutani had tortured him in his bathroom that morning.

He had stumbled back to his bedroom, remembering to lock his apartment door behind him but not remembering to take off his shoes before taking off his jeans, leaving his pants pooled around his ankles as he crashed, face-first, into his bed to pass out.

This, of course, made it more than difficult for him to get to the bathroom before he threw up in his bed.  He tripped once, the change in elevation doing nothing good for his condition, but he was able to hold it all in as he yanked his pants upward to get to the bathroom sink, which he clutched with both hands, staring at himself in the mirror, noting the bags under his eyes and the one missing earring.

It was this focus that meant he noticed immediately when a hulking, hellish red creature appeared over his shoulder.  He whipped around, agitating his nausea as he did.

“You’re back!” said Terushima, his head throbbing as he shouted.

“Of course I’m fucking back,” said Kyoutani, scowling.  “It’s—my whole thing.”

“What, being sarcastic while my brain hurts?”

“No, feeding off of your pain and furthering it as punishment for your jackassery.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

“That’s fair.”

Terushima thought he saw the twinge of a smile in the demon’s face.  It was immediately replaced by his standard scowl.

“So apparently the pots and pans weren’t enough last time,” said Kyoutani.  “So nausea this time, I guess—”

“What, you’ll spin me around with your demon powers?” asked Terushima, his grin flashing a bright set of teeth despite the haggard appearance of the rest of his face.  “Because I can handle myself on the gnarliest of roller coasters, and…”

Before he could finish, Kyoutani socked him in the stomach, hard , and that was more than enough to send his nausea into overdrive.  He barely had time to twist around to the toilet before what was left in his stomach—mostly lime tortilla chips and what might have once been cheap tequila—emptied itself out.

“That was cheap.”

“I am literally a demon from hell.”

Terushima wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Point taken.”

They had met a few more times like this, and each time Terushima was more and more sture that he was going to see the demon when he woke up the morning after he’d gone a little too far at a party.  And a part of him wondered if that was why he was partying as hard as he was.

“Really?” asked Kyoutani as Terushima, his head pounding.  He was sprawled out on his bedroom floor—almost to the bed, to his credit—and every part of his body hurt in the way his head did.  “How many fucking times do we need to do this?”

Terushima just moaned.  There were three or four witty comebacks he had rattling around in the back of his brain, but due to all of that rattling, he didn’t dare open his mouth to say them, for fear of ralphing all over his bedroom floor and making even more of an ass of himself.

Kyoutani just stood over him for a moment, glaring down at him.  Terushima felt watched, and even though he felt like his organs had been turned inside out, he wished that Kyoutani would stop condescendingly dicking around and get to the torture already.  Kyoutani wasn’t supposed to be the judge in this exchange—he was just supposed to execute the punishment.

Kyoutani stood like this for what felt like forever before squatting down next to Terushima’s face.  A warmth radiated from his body, and Terushima vaguely thought that it might have been a pleasant warmth to be around if he hadn’t only shown up to torture him.

Terushima was ready for the torture—Kyou’d probably start by grabbing ahold of his hair, then dropping his head to the floor, then cranking the stereo with some loud music before cracking some rotten eggs in front of him.  Something to really get a well-rounded hangover torture sensory experience.

This wasn’t Kyoutani’s tactic, though.

The demon squatted there, his sharp-tipped fingers dangling between his knees, and looked Terushima directly in the eyes.  Terushima noticed for the first time the way those eyes seemed to flash with fire. “There’s got to be a better fucking way for us to meet than this.”

Terushima’s eyes widened, which wasn’t the greatest move for him, considering the intensity of his hangover, and immediately he snapped them back shut.  They were marred by a filter of tears when he opened them again. “Kyoutani, I—”

But the demon was gone.

He was just lying there, hungover, miserable, and alone.

It had taken Terushima only fifteen minutes since he had walked into the house party to do some shots with Bobata, chug a beer he’d just taken from another person’s hand with nothing more than a quick smile and a wink, and taken a long pull off of the beer bong held by someone he didn’t even know.

Futamata was by his side now, holding a red Solo cup that he wasn’t drinking nearly as fast as Terushima was working through his.  “...so man, that’s why I think something's up.”

“What?” asked Terushima, realizing he hadn’t heard anything else his friend had said.

“I said, there’s Misaki, right there.  And you’ve been going so hard you haven't flirted at all.”  Futamata gestured with his cup in hand. “So are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Takeharu,” said Terushima, draining his cup.  He crushed it and walked away, looking for Bobata and the shots he’d done earlier.  He wanted more of that. Futamata followed him with his eyes, a concerned frown spreading across his face.  Terushima didn’t notice, because he didn’t look back.

He made it almost all the way to the kitchen, where the cheap tequila was half-empty with limes in assorted stages of being cut and spilled salt were scattered across a sticky counter.  He’d almost reached the kitchen when someone caught him by the arm and yanked him down the side hallway.

“Hey, I—!”

A warm hand clamped over Terushima’s mouth, stifling his shout.

At first, Terushima didn’t recognize him—a stern-looking guy with dark black streaks through his blond hair, a way-too-big black tank top hanging off of his muscular but compact frame, a literal fire in his eyes…

“Kyoutani?” asked Terushima through the demon’s human fingers.

“Who the fuck else?”

Kyoutani pulled his hand away from Terushima’s mouth, and Terushima felt his stomach flop.  He was pretty sure it wasn’t from the alcohol. “Wh-why are you here?”

Kyoutani looked away from Terushima, and Teru could have sworn that he saw a bit of red flash against Kyoutani’s cheeks.  “Because…” He took a deep breath out, a breath that smelled faintly of smoke. “Because I’d rather choose to see you tonight than be fucking forced to see you tomorrow morning.”

“You…”

“You’re not fooling a single God damn person, not even yourself,” said Kyoutani.  “I know what you’re doing, going out and drinking harder, thinking that it’ll mean you get to…”

“Okay, and so what if I am?”

“Do you realize that right now, a literal fucking demon is giving you an intervention?”  The fire flashed in his eyes, and he grabbed ahold of Terushima’s shirt. “Do you even…?”

“And why are you doing it, then?” asked Terushima, feeling his blood rise as the alcohol mixed with it, fueling his boldness.  “Might as well keep going while the going is good! I’m sure my punishment and pain is one hell of a snack to a demon like you—you said it yourself, that you’re feeding…”

“It’s because I fucking care about you!” said Kyoutani, clenching his sharp teeth to keep himself from shouting.  As soon as he said it, he breathed a huff of smoke out from his nose, and looked away. “Did you ever stop to think?”

“Kyoutani…”

“That it fucking means something if I’m here to stop you from doing the thing I can punish you for?  That I’m trying to prevent the thing that is literally the reason for my fucking existence?”

“I’m sorry, I…”

“And I don’t even fucking know if you can get it into your stupid, pretty airhead—I am doing this so you’ll learn a lesson, not repeat—”

He was cut off as Terushima grabbed ahold of his shirt, pulling him in to a kiss.  It was brief, but he could feel the immense warmth of Kyoutani’s lips, tasted the smoke of his tongue, and released him.  Kyoutani let go of his grip on Terushima’s shirt, as well, but left his hand on his chest.

“You…”

“I’m sorry,” said Terushima, a twinge of a smile at the corner of his mouth.  “I was trying to meet you again, and…”

“You went too fucking far.”

Terushima’s eyes opened wide, and he held up his hands.

“I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to…  I mean, I thought you wanted to kiss, too, and if you didn’t, I’m sorry to have…”

“Not the fucking kiss, you idiot!”  He hissed these words, and yet a smile was actually forcing its way onto Kyoutani’s face.  “The partying. The drinking. You could have just said something instead of making me torture you, you masochistic jackass.”

“I’m saying something now.”

“I guess you fucking are.”

Futamata walked toward the kitchen, looking for Terushima.  He’d blown him off, and if he was concerned about him before, he definitely was now.  He needed to talk to him, to…

He caught sight of Terushima just as he tilted his head to kiss a guy down the hallway.  Teru’s arms wrapped around him, and the blond guy pulled Terushima in closer. Futamata swiveled on his heel and awkwardly brought his red Solo cup to his lips. That would explain Terushima’s behavior.

“So,” said Terushima, pulling back from his partner’s lips, “do you want to join the party?”

“I doubt it’s going to be as fun as this…”

“Yeah, but I’m going to make you wait a couple of hours till I let you kiss me again,” said Terushima with a devilish grin.  “It’s my turn to torture you .”

[mabdthedragon]

It's time for a #miracle !! #animallovers this is your opportunity to make a #christmasmiracle happen! Save this wonderful #horse from the #killpen his owner has tragically lost their home to #fire but don't let this #goodboy be a collateral tragedy. #help save this #beauty #horselife #cowgirl #country #rurallife #dressagehorse #hunterjumper #animalsos @gofundme https://www.instagram.com/p/CXlihaXLDx_/?utm_medium=tumblr

[hotarudaiki]

Why is there so little about this couple? I hate those who made me love this pair…

[sterlingscripts]

www.sterlingscripts.com. Researching and writing new script ROMEO MUSTANGO. #screenplay #film #horse #helicopter #roundup #mustang #corral #killpen #slaughter #icon #america #midwest https://www.instagram.com/p/CJ5-jz4JsSs/?igshid=1qdxrdihr26sq

[horsegamesins-old]

oc summaries for fun, I've done a lot of thinking abt these 2 and wanna put it on paper before I forget stuff.

Tonie & Phoenix and their horses

(smol tw Tonie's section has mentions of depression & alcoholism)

Tonie's horse, Jello (fn Jellybean), is a Dartmoor pony rescued from a killpen. Rescued here meaning that one night Tonie and a bunch of likeminded friends went to Jorvik city harbor & broke free a shipment of horses that were to be transported abroad for slaughter. She's a mealy light bay mare with messy & long tail and mane, and she also has a dorsal stripe. Nobody knows where exactly Jello came from, but what they do know is she's the textbook case of a naughty pony and has a very human-like sense of humor. Whenever someone else tries to ride her she doesn't really listen, or at worst finds the fastest way to get rid of them. Tonie simply put up with her tricks until she eventually softened up, and now she doesn't want to be without her. Jello is insanely protective and has the guts of a goose, which make her very reliable in most situations despite her small size.

Meanwhile Tonie.. is kind of a lost soul. She came to Jorvik to study and get away from her home, "broaden your horizons" and all that, and when she was done she just didn't know where to go after, so she moved to Firgrove after hearing the stables there were looking for employees. Easy money & a place where she could keep Jello close. Her apartment is the upper floor of an old log cabin, just a small bedroom and a kitchen but it leaves enough for her to live comfortably. The stable pays her enough to live on but she does freelance photography on the side for extra cash.

Tonie's average height, roughly 160cm (5'7"), and a little fluffy but not insecure about it. Her hair is naturally red although she does dye it darker every now and then, and she wears loose and plain clothes with the exception of the occasional band shirt.

Tonie has high functioning depression. She's doing just fine all things considered, she just never thought of what she wanted to do in life and got stuck on that. She's keeping herself together for Jello, but she's also painfully aware horses don't often stay healthy past their twenties so it's very bittersweet. She keeps in touch with her friends from university, but most of them live far away so she doesn't get to see them very often. On the darker side, Tonie sometimes goes on weeks long drinking binges, usually around the winter holidays when it's cold and dark outside.

Phoenix Winding is, simply put, a butch lesbian in her early 30's. She's tall and imposing, wavy umber hair in a tight bun, minimal makeup, dark business casual clothes. She takes herself seriously, sometimes to a fault. Not that she doesn't have a reason, she is a respected dressage judge and trainer, and gets offers from all over Jorvik. Her home is in Silverglade, where she has a private stable for all her projects and client horses, as well as the one horse she's determined to keep.

Karakum. A mysterious Akhal-Teke exported from outside Jorvik, said to be directly descended from the last known Turkoman horses. She's almost completely black, exept for a white band that goes around her neck 15cm below her head. Nobody is sure whether it's a weird marking or an old scar. She's a gentle horse, but very sensitive when riding, making her challenging to train. Phoenix wanted a challenge, and is now slowly but surely shaping Karakum to be the next dressage champion.