[preppy paws]

Since I only have 6 forms finished. I will give you a 3 day extension. Please use this time wisely, as there will be no more extensions afterwards.

[Kiwilady]

Since I only have 6 forms finished. I will give you a 3 day extension. Please use this time wisely, as there will be no more extensions afterwards.

OMG yes thankoyu! I completely forgot about it!

[silver ~]

Thank you so much! I will try to finish my form as soon as possible!

[lichenfeather]

Hhh I cannot believe I missed seeing this girly. Well, best of luck to all who enter. She's sure to go to a superb home.

[preppy paws]

Username: resolution
Show Name: HLF's Into the Sun
Barn Name: Irra
Art OR Story: Irra is lead from her stall to the tack station, where a dozen grooms envelop her, cleaning, brushing and tacking the young mare. Her tack: blue and yellow blanket with light racing tack and a shadow band are secured onto her, and her legs are checked and covered in a strong, foul-smelling liniment. It isn’t long before her jockey, a short, light-as-a-feather woman that lets Irra do her own thing, arrives, and is hoisted into the saddle. The jockey takes care to not let her spurs or her crop touch the sensitive, young mare as a side-walker on a calm chestnut pony takes Irra by a rope attached to her halter. He begins to lead the horse down a small dirt aisle, right next to the front row of the crowd. Fans scream, cameras snap and shutter, but the flashy dappled mare loves it all. The spotlight, the crew, the fame, the fortune; all of it. She couldn’t imagine a life more wonderful or more rewarding than this. What could be better than feeling the wind blow against your face? What could compare to stretching out your legs, striving to out stride the horses on either side of you? What could even come close to the thrill of thundering down the final stretch to the finish line, leaving every other high class, expensive thoroughbred in the wake of your tracks? Nothing, nothing could even come close to this for Irra. Snapped back from her day dreaming by a small tap on her side, the flashy mare stepped forward, bobbing her head with excitement as she went. They were on the track now; that turf that she raced on was the most comfortable thing she could ever hope to feel under her hooves. Her rider waved from the thoroughbred’s back, and Irra let out a high-pitched whinny of confidence. She wanted to win, no, she needed to win. She had a title to defend, and she would fight to her fullest for it. As the starting gates come into view, the small grey horse got even more anxious, adrenaline shots beginning to pump through her veins. She bounced on her front feet as she was locked into the stall, lucky number seven being her gate. On those last fading notes of the trumpet, she’d shoot out from the starting gates like there was no tomorrow. She had a race to win. (400 words exactly)

Congrats I really loved your story!
And as for everyone who did art, it was fantastic as always!

And anyone who has edited their forms after the 10th, was immediately disqualified.