[Chaotic Queen]

DAY FOUR

Username: Albino_
Art:
Tolter: this beautiful girl!

[conversett]

DAY FOUR
Username: conversett
Art:

Tolter: x and x
I couldn't decide between the too lol

[ExVenor]

DAY FOUR IS NOW CLOSED!
Ticket Archive
Do not edit your submissions after this point!
Sorry, It's a bit late (again) I always get busy those last few minutes. xD

There are some new things on the main post.

⇀-----↼
Day Five
⇁-----↽

Write about something funny that one of your tolters saw or experienced.

Non-owners may use my tolter Artagon.

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[u][center]DAY FIVE[/center][/u]
[b]Username:[/b]
[b]Writing:[/b] (check main post for minimum requirements)
[b]Tolter:[/b] (link either the stable or adoption page)

[Alledowaya]

DAY FIVE

Username: Alledowaya
Writing: 650 words
It was the weekend, all the owners, staff, and even guests were at the stables. The weather was perfect for it too. Not a single cloud in the sky and the heat was not unbearable. Yet, he was still in his stall. Being lightly impatient, when he saw his rider he started to kick the stable door.

"All right, all right, Artagon calm down." He said with a smile on his face, he knew Artagon was itching to get out of the barn. Howard walked away from the stalls, over to the tack room where they had possibly hundreds of individual pieces of tack hung up on the walls and on saddle stacks. Howard grabbed Artagon's bright lime green and silver halter from the wall before heading back down the hallway to Artagon's stall. The stallion still thrust a hoof at the solid wood when he saw Howard, but it was less aggressive this time as he could see the piece of headgear that meant he would FINALLY be leaving his stall. Howard stubbed his old boots against the door, almost just like Artagon did two seconds ago. The stallion didn't really give Howard time to react, he just thrust his head into the lime green contraption. Howard chuckled, and buckled the halter into place on the silver studs head. His own beard was starting to grey, but he doubted it would end up like Artagon's mane, that was too gorgeous.

Snapping the lead into place, Howard unlatched the gate to Artagon's stall, the horse was not massive like some, but was built to perfection. Strong shoulders and a strong hind meant that Howard could put Artagon to any type of work and he would be perfect. Though he knew Artagon didn't like english riding, so they stuck with western.

"Step," Howard quietly said to Artagon, Artagon already knew the layout of the barn quite well but having Howard say those things helped him not trip up. Artagon stepped into the grooming box, and Howard clipped the cross ties to the halter, removing the lead in the process. Then he was off again to get a bucket, his sponges and his brushes. Howard knew Artagon wouldn't break the crossties, and in fact if anyone unclipped him he wouldn't budge. Artagon and Howard were like two peas in a pod.

There was a loud crack, and a pair of small human foals ran past the grooming box, bucket in hand. It was empty. Artagon could smell Howard a little bit away, walking towards him again, but something was wrong with his scent. Howard smelled weird, and different. When the man walked in front of the grooming box, he was absolutely COVERED in vinegar. A sour substance that deters animals from licking or chewing things. Artagon put his head back a bit, Howard smelled rancid, almost like he decided to bathe in the stuff! Those foals must've taken the vinegar bucket to pull a prank on his rider, Artagon mused. He had to admit, for being foals they sure knew how to make others laugh! Artagon couldn't hold it in any longer and let out a soft whinny and inclined his head towards Howard. Howard glared at him for a solid minute before joining in, it did no good to be gloomy over a prank. He didn't have much time before he smelled like a total pickle, so the guy decided to use the hose for horses on himself. Now instead of being a human pickle, he is now a drowned human pickle. Artagon let out another laugh, and Howard took the hose to him playfully. Still tied, Artagon moved his hind end away from the cold water, still chuckling in his horsey way.

They continued on with their day, Artagon was fully groomed, dried, and let out to pasture for a bit before they went on with their day of riding.
Tolter: Artagon

[conversett]

DAY FIVE
Username: conversett
Writing: x
Tolter: rocher

[DarkestWerewolf]

DAY FIVE

Username: DarkestWerewolf
Writing: Boop
Tolter: Eliza featuring Ambrosia

[Sandy Hoofprints]

DAY FIVE

Username: Sandy Hoofprints
Writing: here
Tolter: Harriet

[husky.]

DAY FIVE

Username: husky.
Writing: link
Tolter: brooke & rory

[OutdatedBoombox]

DAY FIVE

Username: OutdatedBoombox
Writing: The police horse had seen a lot in her time, but there was nothing quite as entertaining to her as watching the youngsters of the stable get trained. During downtimes on sunny days, her handler would slide a soft leather halter over her head and lead her out to the arena to graze on the sidelines and watch the colts and fillies learn. Oftentimes she'd lay down in the grass, head raised to watch them fail over and over. Flinte had watched many trainees go through the same training she had when she was younger. She always found it rather funny watching them get the hang of it. The loud noises, the gear, the potential to get hit by flying objects, the terrain training. The masks and collars were always a sight to behold when the youngsters had to get used to them. The amount of head-shaking and pawing and trying to take it off was always so amusing. She's always call out to them, berating them and telling them to calm down. The masks were very comfortable, just rather odd. Breathing through the filter was strange too. They'd be grateful when they were on duty and the gas grenades were thrown. Sometimes they'd calm at her words and realize that the masks weren't so bad, other times they'd simply ignore her and continue. Usually, the ones that ignored her never got through training. They'd be sold off to various stables and families to be used as lesson horses or competitors.

That was never what she found the most funny, though. She was always most amused by the ridden terrain training. These were youngsters that had come from long lines of police horses like herself, but they were born and raised on smooth, rolling fields. They had never experienced rubble, rough trails, or city streets. The arena would be piled with rocks and wood and soil to simulate all sorts of conditions and obstacles. The trainees would need to jump, maneuver, balance on, and climb to get through these situations. All with their rider on their back. It wouldn't be just a practice in agility, but in trust between rider and horse. The rider would have to trust the trainee to balance, and the trainee would need to trust the rider to make the right decisions for them. Flinte knew they'd been building up to all this. But.... the trainees would always try too hard. They wouldn't relax and focus on the work the way they needed to. And they'd fail. But practices were repeated over and over until they understood what was necessary.

This particular day, the appaloosa mare was watching a young colt- in full gear- go through the terrain training with his rider. He, like many trainees, was overconfident to a fault. He negotiated a rubble pile safely, scooted down a dirt pile, wove through some burning bits of wood... He was doing alright. Until the jump. He got excited. She could see it in the way his ears perked forwards. He lunged forward preemptively- before his rider cued him to- and went for it. Except he jumped too early and too low. The colt's legs were caught on the strategically piled wood and he was flipped forwards, directly onto his face. He twisted as he fell, thankfully giving the rider a chance to leap off before they were fallen on. He fell with a heavy thud and was winded for several moments, only to get up filthy but unharmed. Flinte knew what was coming before it had happened, of course, and couldn't help but crack up at the colt's stupidity. She even got up to berate him from the other side of the fence, scolding him through laughter for not listening and being too eager. His embarrassment proved to be a learning experience, however, and as soon as his rider remounted he successfully navigated the leap. Flinte was proud. He'd earned his place with her, just like the others. [663 words]
Tolter: Flinte

Flinte is kinda a jerk I'm sorry.

[aray17]

DAY FIVE

Username: aray17
Writing: (Jay’s perspective) It was race day and I was pumped. My friends and I were going to race to impress the cutest girls. Wilder’s crush was going to be there and he was the worst when it came to flirting with girls. Every time a girl came remotely close to him, he would become spastic and his speech would become scattered and choppy. As his wingman, it was my responsibility to build his confidence and improve his flirting game with the ladies. I pulled reluctant Wilder out of his stall to the far pasture to practice how to talk to a girl. Hour after hour in the heat of the sun, we practiced. I could not let my friend fail this time. Every race I try to set him up with this sleek and sultry white foal. She’s the fastest foal and the quietest out of all on the ranch. She’s very illusive so catching a moment with her is rare. As the sun set, we slowly walked back to the stalls to rest up before our race tonight. Wilder said “Jay, do you really think this will all work? I don’t know. I don’t know if I can race tonight. My stomach really hurts and I feel sick.” I lightly laughed and said “Come on dude. You have to man up and talk to this girl. Let her win the race but you win her heart.” He smiled and said “Alright, I’ll try my best.” As we hung out in the cool shade of the stalls, Wilder complained about his stomach again and again. We tried drinking water and eating a bit to try to make the pain go away but nothing was working. Finally it was time to race and my nerves and excitement grew by the second. Wilder’s upset stomach only got worse. As we walked on the banks of the lake, the water glistened in the moonlight. It was a full moon and the moonlight lit up the flat track. Slowly, foals and colts started to appear from the bushes. Wilder and I were the first to arrive and eagerly awaited the foals and Wilder’s mystery crush. Wilder stood off by himself and I could tell his anxiety was racing through his blood. The boys and I stood off to the side of the track as I looked anxiously at Wilder. His crush still hadn’t shown up and he was pacing back and forth far away from the track. I ran over to him to talk and calm his nerves. Wilder started talking gibberish as he breaths became faster and shallower. “Hey hey hey Wilder. You’re going to be okay. She hasn’t even shown up and probably won’t. Just forget shoutout her. You’ll be okay I promise. Just focus on the race.” I brought Wilder to our friend group and everyone stared at him. He looked down at the ground. The foals race group soon was off and running. Still no sign of Wilder’s crush. It was finally our turn to race and we all lined up at the start line. Wilder stood right next to me and took a deep breath in. He looked calm and focused. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her. The tall white foal was running to join us. She squeezed in between Wilder and I and said “Girls can race too. Count me in.” Wilder gulped and I scoffed. The officiant said “Racers, to your marks. Get set. Go!” And just as the officiant said go, I heard Wilder rip a loud and potent fart. Everyone’s heads turned and stared at Wilder. His jaw dropped and eyes got huge. The white foal started laughing loud at him and so did everyone else. At first I wanted to laugh because it’s always funny when one of the colts fart. It was a loud one too. Wilder ran off into the deep cattails. I looked at our friends as they all were laughing at him. I shook my head at them and ran off after him. Wilder was sobbing as he laid on the ground surrounded by the croaking frogs and toads and cattails. I laid down next to him and we stayed there for hours. I sat there in silence thinking to myself what I could do or say. Wilder fell asleep and I woke him up to take him back to our stalls. All I could muster up was “I’m sorry. People are just immature.” He didn’t say anything and we both went back into our stalls to fall asleep and forget about the horribly embarrassing toot.
Tolter: Wilder and Jay