vinellatermizt

[vinellatermizt]

centaur aideen supremacy

[vinellatermizt]

I couldn't resist and drew some sketches of Aideen (in the form of a centaur, as in the previous post)

I will try to find time to draw a color and more detailed illustration

[vinellatermizt]

If you go into the secret stone circle and take a good look around, you can see a lot of interesting things.

In the very center on the floor there is a drawing. Quite large, it is difficult not to notice, but how many people looked at it. Four girls, four horses, and what is that on top of us? A horse or a person with light? And who brought the light to Jorvik? Whose soul was divided into two and went one to people, the other to horses? Correct Aiden. Now we know how it must have looked in the original version.

So the option with a spaceship falling from the sky with Garnock inside and the subsequent creation of Jorvik as a checkpoint has not yet been canceled by anyone.

[vinellatermizt]

❤️

The Guardian Horses, based on their Circles (and their disciplines to a lesser degree)

A month ago, I asked what the Guardians' appearances should be based on if they were ever redesigned, and their Circles won.

Starshine: Snowflake Appaloosa Mustang. Western/Endurance. Concorde: Gold Champagne Akhal-Teke. Dressage. Tin-Can: Minimal Appaloosa Friesian Cross. Vaulting. Meteor: Paint Thoroughbred (or basic sport breed). Showjumping.

[vinellatermizt]

i know she was barely two alex cloudmills tall in the concept but like what if she was huge.

[vinellatermizt]

Catherine who is born to a poverty-stricken couple on the island of Jorvik. Her home is settled right on the moor. Although very small and severely run-down, her mother and father do their best to make it a true home. Her father, the steadfast hard-worker, always making sure his girls were taken care of, and her bubbly, ray of sunshine mother, who kept the home warm with her knitted and sewn creations. Neither of them ever let Catherine forget how much she was loved.

Catherine who was always the outsider, the loner. She had an impossibly hard time even forming acquaintance relationships with any of her classmates. "She is just so painfully shy" she heard her mother tell her father multiple times, the words laced with worry. It wasn't for her lack of trying. She wanted friends, wanted to be included. But every time she threw herself out there into the wide sea of her peers, her awkward behaviors and overly passionate speeches about one random subject or another always seemed to push people away. It was all her fault, she thought. That was the easiest explanation.

Catherine who never thought she'd stop crying after her mother passed away. She was only fourteen years old, and had just lost her greatest anchor to this lonesome world. Her mother always listened to her rants, was always there to support whatever ways her daughter wanted to express herself. They would craft together, go on endless trail rides, bake to their hearts' content... her mother was her best friend - and now she was gone, forever.

Catherine who was furious when she found out that the old cabins up on one of the highest points of the property, her favorite view, were being rented out to a family. Her father had explained to her that they were in a rough financial spot, and the father had promised to work on the land in exchange for free board. She wasn't heartless, and knew her father was the kind of man who couldn't turn someone in a situation like that down. But, she had lived in her own world for so long; this property, these horses were her personal haven. They were the one thing she had held on to after her mother died simply to stay sane. She didn't want anyone disrupting that, especially some stupid boy, the family's only child, who was supposedly around her age.

Catherine who soon discovered, although reluctantly at first, that she was very wrong about that 'stupid boy'. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she found him... adorable? The way he smiled awkwardly at her, stumbled over his words on the rare occasion that they would talk... he was so much like her.

Catherine who was swept off on adventures by a blue squirrel? and four other girls he called the Soul Riders. Elizabeth, Eva, Sigry, and Caroline - and now her; they were all supposed to save the world together, and she was the Chosen One who would lead the charge, the goddess Aideen reborn? Absolutely wild.

Catherine who thought she finally had friends! That was until, of course, she went and messed everything up. Once again, she had pushed everyone away. She had hurt someone. She had hurt a horse. She couldn't look at her hands anymore without imagining them covered in blood. She was so terrified of herself, terrified of the monster she had become. And when the other girls finally pushed her out of the picture with their hurtful words, she retreated back to the place she knew best, the only place she would ever be safe, her home on the moor.

Catherine who cried countless times into that boy's shoulder - Thomas's shoulder. And yet every single time, he was so desperately patient. He wiped the tears of her face when she looked up to ask him if she was a monster, kissed the hands that she swore were still soaked in red. She joked with him late one night, while they were laid out under the stars, that her mother had sent him as her personal angel. He would listen so intently to whatever she had to say, giving input where he thought she needed it. He would bake with her, those days usually ending up in messy, powdery flour fights. He was just so much like her calm, patient mother. And she was sure she found her new anchor.

Catherine who knew she was going to die early; she told Thomas this, the day he proposed marriage to her. He simply responded with "I don't care" and pulled her into the most passionate kiss they had ever shared. They married underneath the Wild Warden tree on the Forgotten Fields. "I don't care if we have 20 years, 20 days, 20 minutes, or 20 seconds left together. I don't want to waste any moment of it being without you," was a line of his vows, which he said with tears in his eyes. Yeah, she had found her soulmate.

Catherine who did indeed die, far too early. She left behind a beautiful son, part of her breaking at the thought of her son growing up without a mother, while the other part was so glad that Thomas wouldn't be alone. It was a teary goodbye, as she knew it would be, but there was a reason they both had said that day, under the tree, "till even after death do us part".

[vinellatermizt]

Странная деревянная статую за домом Элизабет

[vinellatermizt]

Шайр

[vinellatermizt]

Ганновер

[vinellatermizt]

Першерон

[vinellatermizt]

Ганновер

[vinellatermizt]

Щенячий патруль

[vinellatermizt]

Фрипп крупным планом

[vinellatermizt]

Фрипп. Милый талисман друидов и отличный танцор

[vinellatermizt]

Fripp was supposed to sing an opera to save the world or something.

There was more going on, but the only thing i remember clearly is thinking “It’s going to be a chipmunk remix”

[vinellatermizt]

Пролог

[vinellatermizt]

Dark Song : Графический роман Soul Riders

Волшебные лошади и таинственные силы — присоединяйтесь к Soul Riders в новом эпическом приключении в этом прекрасно иллюстрированном графическом романе!

Dark Song — это отдельное приключение, воплощенное в жизнь выдающимся автором комиксов Кэти Кук и блестящей молодой художницей Элли Пуукангас.

Наездники душ встречаются со своими союзниками-друидами в Вэлдейле и обнаруживают, что в этом районе не все хорошо. С помощью необычного

проводника они едут на восток через дикую местность. Когда Линде приходит ужасное видение бесплодных лесов и великого опустошения, девушки понимают, что они нужны, чтобы спасти землю вокруг них от разрушения.

Что не так с таинственным деревом, которое, кажется, портит все живое вокруг себя? Может ли это быть результатом темной магии?

Когда Soul Riders начинают разгадывать тайну, на них нападает опасный зверь, и они получают неожиданную помощь. Но все не так, как кажется, и оказывается, что они оказались втянуты в чьи-то зловещие планы.

Узнают ли Soul Riders правду, пока не стало слишком поздно?