[gr3ystones]

Welcome to the Fallen Oaks Farm event!
It is here that an illegal Euphorian Thoroughbred breeding operation was shut down by local authorities. All of the mares, stallions, and of age foals are in need of homes. There will also be some mares that still have their foals that need to be taken care of. Euphorian lovers from all over have come together to get homes for all of the animals. They've brought giant trailers and are ready and waiting to bring home a bunch of new faces. But before adopting, they must visit the trailer parking site.

Owner: LivingLethal
Show Name: Amber in the Rough
Barn Name: Rory
Gender: Stallion
Age: 6
Height: 16.3hh
Eye Color: fruity orange
Phenotype: Bay pangare frame overo snowcap pintaloosa
Genotype: Ee/AA/Oo/LpLp
Discipline: Cutting
Halter: sweet lemon w/ gold hardware
Edits:
n/a
Breeding Info:
- homozygous agouti
- homozygous appaloosa

[DeadlyArcana]

Marking for later <3

[BadgerBuddies]

Username: BadgerBuddies
Show Name: BBR Shoreline Sunrise
Barn Name: Sunny
Age: 2 years old
Discipline: Endurance
Halter: Yellow
Growing Up at the Farm: With the barns at Fallen Oak Farms in such disarray, this gave Sunny somewhat of an interesting advantage. Every night, some of the mares and foals would be turned out to pasture. Since the human workers were never very diligent when it came to their jobs, many of the fields were is disarray as well as the barns themselves. Many fences had holes in them large enough for small foals to escape out of, but still small enough to keep the mares contained. This allowed the foals to wander off to explore a bit, but they were always sure to return to their mothers before sunrise.

Sunny was naturally adventurous and a born leader. He would round up the other foals who were able to slip out of their pastures and they would all go play together, whether it be in one of the pastures or out in the nearby forest bordering the property. Though Sunny may have been born and raised on a farm that did not take proper care of him, he was still a happy little colt because of the adventures he was able to take himself on.

Link to Trailer Park Entry: x

[-Unbridled-]

Username: -Unbridled-
Show Name: War Admiral
Barn Name: Champ
Age: (when fully grown) 18.0 hh
Discipline: Racing
Halter: Turquoise
Growing Up at the Farm: Champ always had a hard life at Fallen Oak Farms. Not only was he neglected and abused like every other horse there, but he was also bullied by the other foals there because of his particularly small size. The other foals would push him into the mud, and sometimes into the electric fence. They would make harsh comments about him. Part of Champ knew that he couldn't blame them, and they were just taking their anger out, but another part of him wanted them dead. When Champ finally told his mother about him being bullied, she gave him all the support in the world. She also informed him that his father was also the same way as Champ. As a colt, he was tiny, but as a stallion, he grew to be very tall. Because of his height, Champ's father became a very successful champion racehorse. When Champ told the other foals about this, they wouldn't believe him and began to hurt him even more. Then, the most tragic thing happened. Champ's mother died. He was told later on that she had been beaten to death by their owner. This was surprising common at the farm. Champ's whole world began to crumble right in front of his eyes. His mother was the only support and love he had. What was he going to do without her? He wanted so badly to hurt his owner for what he had done, but he thought to himself where revenge would get him. He came to the conclusion that it would get him nowhere or in an even worse situation than he's already in. While Champ missed and loved his dam dearly, he knew he had to move on. The rescue was his only hope of true happiness.
294 words
Link to Trailer Park Entry: Here

[TheUnsinkableShips]

Username: TheUnsinkableShips
Show Name: Where the Wild Things Are
Barn Name: Wild
Age: 9 Years Old
Discipline: Eventing
Halter: Eye Color
Growing Up at the Farm: Before he was Wild he was nameless. He was a foal in a sea of others, conceived as a result of neglect and abuse, forgotten along with the others. He despised this life, wishing and wanting for more than to be another drop of water in an endless sea, ignored, lest for his mother and half-siblings, who hardly the the time to dote on him anyway, and abandoned. He longed for a home, for something other than this treacherous life of uncertainty and sorrow, for someone, for family, for life.

Because what he had now wasn't life. It wasn't living. It was as good as death, a field of broken dreams and matted fur, complete with hushed conversations in the dead of night. It was worries every day, no time to frolic away in an endless green field (like the ones that filled his dreams) and no time for distraction. It was survival. and instincts, and pain.

He wondered about the others, the ones older than him who had been here longer, who had been subjected to this fruitless life for years as opposed to only months. The ones who were no longer with them.

He wondered if they'd ever been outside this place, if maybe, before here, they had soared around the racetrack like their ancestors (or so he was told by the oldest of them all, a frail mare who was near her end, he knew). He wanted to run.

To dance in a field or reel through a racetrack. Anything was better than here.

And then, there was salvation, flashes of light, and he soon realized blue, the blue of the lights that flashed so adamantly on the day they were rescued, might be his favorite color.
(285 Words)

Link to Trailer Park Entry: xXx

[LivingLethal]

Username: LivingLethal
Show Name: Amber in the Rough
Barn Name: Rory
Age: 6
Discipline: Cutting
Halter: Blanket color!
Link to Trailer Park Entry: Here
Growing Up at the Farm:

Fallen Oaks Farm was a place constantly entrenched in darkness. The barn lights were rarely switched on, flies swarmed the sickest of the residents, and the sight of a human was rather rare—though such a sighting wasn’t necessarily a downside, as that typically meant food. Still, despite this seemingly-dreary existence, some within the farm found the life to be comforting.

Rory was among the few lucky enough to be a full-time pasture horse. He and his mother lived within a herd of almost-wild Thoroughbreds on the farm, only tamed enough to accept human contact, but not to be put under saddle. Their lives meant open space and less trouble, even in spite of the often-filthy condition of that they lived within. Rory himself was always a chipper and charismatic colt. Living out in the open meant that he often got the most contact, whether that was with the scarce human aides or with the several horses that he lived alongside. This plentiful interaction and activity within his life allowed him to thrive even in such a stressful situation.

Rory’s morning began when his herd visited the massive, often soaking-wet haybale that was thrown out into the pasture every month or so. It was often the stubborn-spirited stallions that ate first, making the geldings, mares, and foals wait for second pick of the hay. At least, this was the case for most of the herd—but not Rory. The sweet-eyed colt had quite the pact with the mean stallions. One he’d given his most convincing puppy-eyes. Another had seen him sick as a dog and took pity upon him one morning, except that morning stretched into… just about every morning since then. Another had received a piece of spare carrot from Rory and took a liking of him since then. So, every morning when the herd sauntered over to their bale of hay, Rory took first pickings just as the rest of the stallions.

Another point of interest in Rory’s life was the rare visits from the human hands on the farm. Most ignored the horses or only took interest in the adults or older foals—many of which disappeared soon after they were inspected. However, there was one farm aide whose visits Rory always took great pleasure in. He was the one who invariably gave the pastured horses their haybales, and who also gave Rory some much-needed human contact. When he was but a wee newborn, still struggling to get a hand on his thin legs, it was the time of the hand’s monthly appearance in the pasture. As he came sauntering on by, followed by a trail of filthy, starved horses, the man caught a glance of the newborn Rory, just as he managed his first, swaying step. And, he caught a glance of what came afterward: the accomplished, cheerful whinny that Rory let out afterwards. Ever since, during his scarce visits, the farm hand sneaks a piece of peppermint, a cutting of carrots, or a sliver of apple for his favorite colt in the pasture. Rory, of course, has no objections.

In spite of the horrors of the farm, the unspeakable conditions in which the many souls were forced to brave, there is a part of Rory that will always love his upbringing.

[gr3ystones]

thank you all for entering- the winenr of this fluffy guy is LivingLethal^
he will be transferred onto adult lines on September 2nd~

[LivingLethal]

thank you so much broken !! i love this happy fellow <3