[orse]

Owner: {h o r s e}
Show Name: Photo Album
Barn Name: Polaroid
Gender: Stallion
Height: 15.3hh
Age: 5
Breed: Andalusian x Thoroughbred (50/50)
Discipline: Dressage
Theme Song: Another World - The Vamps

Personality: Polaroid is kinda forgetful. He relies on memories. I mean, when he has to recall the past, he relies on visual memories, as he is a visual learner. He is kinda silly, I mean, he can get into awkward places at times, and is known to injure himself a bit.

History: Polaroid was born on a small property and raised by a small girl. She created a photobook, displaying all their memories. Polaroid went through a rough period in his life, but at the end of it, the young Aria of WWS found him and brought him to WWS. The photobook was given to WWS, and more photos are being added.

Art: Here Here Here

Story: I trudged down the track, my head to the ground and my hooves dragging against the stones in the dirt path. I kept walking, but looked up when I noticed that the path stopped short. There was a fork in the path, and I had to choose which way to go. One path, was light and airy, still sheltered by trees, but sunshine was filtering through. The other path was dark and eerie, not a path that anyone would like to take. I sighed as I tried to make a decision. The easy way, or the hard way. The easy way would take me right to where I was looking to go, but the hard path would make more memories. I turned to take the hard path.

I knew I had made the right choice, because even though the hard way made me overcome many obstacles, I had a bunch of memories to remember. Maybe I should put it in my photo album.
Story 2: Air rushed out of my nostrils as my rider urged me on into a trot. My muscles moved effortlessly as I strode across the arena. I held my head high, but my head was in a frame. Every time my hoof touched the ground, I sprung back into the air, extending and shortening my trot at my rider's command. At the slightest touch on my rider's heels, I sprung into a canter. The world flew past me as I balanced myself around the corner. My rider steered me towards the middle of the arena and asked for a flying change. I braced myself and responded immediately, sitting back and changing the lead. The icy air sent chills down my spine, but I kept going, my body gradually warming against the chilly frost.

In another world...

We kept going for a long time, and when my rider turned me in to the arena at the canter again, I knew what was next. She wanted me to do a flying change every stride. I sat back and completed one flying change, and immediately switching the lead afterwards. I

I know, I know, I know, I know, that,

was dripping with sweat and exhaustion, as my rider brought me back to a walk, patting me and praising me continuously. The rider called out to the person waiting at the gate. 'Did you get the picture?'

Story 3: When Polaroid was born, he was welcomed into a loving family, and he thought his life was perfect, but things changed, and he was sold to the wrong owners, who thought he was perfect for showjumping..
~~

Small rain drops pattered on the roof of the arena, but inside, all that could be heard was the rhythmic beat of the horse’s hooves and the occasional cough or sneeze from a spectator. The rider’s spurs dug harder into the horse’s sides. Everyone stared in awe at the incredible horse. Everyone knew him. Photo Album was his name, and he won every jump off he has competed in. This particular competition was the Willow Spring Stables cup, with a whopping cash prize of $8000. Album’s rider clung onto his mane. The final jump was near. Spectators sat on the edge of their seats in anticipation, and the rain grew stronger. The rider dug harder into Album’s sides as the jump loomed ahead. The horse squealed. He couldn't stand the spurring, and with one kick, the rider went flying into the air. He stared at his startled rider. It was over. His chance was ruined.
The rider stormed into Album’s stable and groomed him briskly. No sugar cubes. The horse held up his forefoot in pain. Dave, his owner yelled to the rider. “Steven! Get that horse in the trailer.” Steven dragged the limping horse into the trailer, not noticing the swollen forefoot. He slammed the door closed and jumped into the car. Album was driven away.
Steven later on noticed the terrible pain Album was in, but he hastily wrapped a bandage on him, and saddled him up. Album stood still while Steven heaved himself onto his strong back. The slightest tap of the heels would have made him walk, but instead Steven gave him a nasty kick and Album jumped in fright. He broke into a trot, limping so badly that Steven bounced around like a sack of potatoes. Steven kicked him on to the first jump set up in the arena. Album couldn't stand the pain, and he stopped. Steven kicked, yelled and hit him so many times with the whip that Album did something bad for the first time in his life. He bucked, and reared and pigrooted in a flying frenzy, then collapsed to the ground. Steven, who had fallen off went over to Album, pulled him up and dragged him to the stables.
A week later, Album's foot started healing, and Steven put him in the paddock. The paddock was bare, and he grazed where he could, but that was all he was fed. One day, Dave came and put him in the trailer. They drove for quite a while until Album stepped out into a paddock far from home. He looked around curiously.
“I can’t believe it took you so long to decide how to get rid of this wreck!” Steven complained.
“Well” Dave replied “I guess I should never have bought him.”
Dave let Album loose in the paddock. He stared curiously as Dave hopped into the rusty old ute. “Coming?” He called out to Steven.
It just happened to be that young Aria of WWS was sitting beside the paddock, drawing wild horses in her book. She looked up at the horse in the rusty old paddock. “Excuse me sir?” She interrupted Steven who was about to drive away.
“What?” He snapped.
“That horse... is he yours?” she gestured towards Album.
“Look kid, if you want him, go for your life but don’t expect any good out of him.”
Aria gave a small nod, and Steven hopped in the ute next to Dave, yelling “Good luck with that wreck of a horse.” And without another word, he sped off down the highway.
For a long time Aria stared at Album. He stared back at her. Album cautiously stepped towards Aria’s outstretched arm. He smelt her hand and snorted, stepping back. “It’s okay, boy,” she whispered. She stepped towards him and stroked his neck softly. She inspected the wounds on Album’s sides. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, and ran off into the distance.
Album didn't twitch until Aria came running back towards the paddock. He whinnied happily. “It’s okay, boy!” She laughed. “I’d never leave you.” Aria pulled out an ice pack and placed it on his foot, securing it with a bandage. “This should help” She grabbed a bottle of water and a cloth and wiped the gashes on his belly. They were then covered with bandages. Aria returned to Album’s neck and stroked him. “What a chance I’d find you!” she smiled. “You’re stunning!” Album nosed her shoulder playfully. “You're that Photo Album huh? I think I'll name you polaroid.” Aria pulled out a camera and snapped a picture, a polaroid printing out. First Day.
Album, who was now named Polaroid, was up early and he paced across the rusty old fence, waiting for Aria to come. Sure enough, she did, and with her she bought a delicious meal that consisted of a bunch of juicy carrots, a package of oats and some slightly bruised apples. As she unpacked them she talked “When I told mum and dad about you, they said that I was way too young for a horse. ‘You’re only Twelve years old, Aria!’ They would say.” She sighed. “I’m going to prove them wrong. We’re going to try and win the Willow Wood stables cup.” She opened the oats.
Aria pulled a dirty old blue head collar out of the bag and carefully buckled it on. Polaroid stood obediently. She walked forward and he followed. She turned, walked backwards and ran. Polaroid followed too. “Well, I guess that’s covered. Now all I need is some tack…”
The next morning Aria plodded up the hill carrying a saddle and bridle. “Look what I got! I found them in the old cattle shed. I gave them a clean, so all that’s left now is to try them out.” Aria gently placed an old cloth on Polaroid’s back and after that, a dusty saddle. She put the bridle on, and smoothed his forelock down. Polaroid didn't seem to mind this, so Aria carefully mounted. At the tap of her heels, Polaroid proceeded to a lively walk. Aria trotted, cantered and even galloped on Polaroid, a massive grin on her face the whole time. He was cooled down, and fed well. Polaroid had never been so happy.
For the next few weeks, Aria and Polaroid practiced and practiced. Amelia was there every day. Time flew by, and it was only a week before the competition. Aria kept raising her homemade jumps until they were as tall as the jumps at Willow Wood would be. Polaroid jumped them with ease. They were ready.
Aria was at the paddock earlier than usual. She groomed Polaroid’s coat thoroughly, and braided his mane. The old saddle, now scrubbed with saddle soap was placed on his back with a sparkling white saddle pad. Aria put the bridle on, and mounted. She grabbed a backpack laden with food, brushes and clothing. In her hand she gripped a small white ticket. “This is our chance.”
Polaroid and Aria rode at a leisurely walk for 40 minutes until they arrived at Willow Wood stables. It was like a dream. She was really at Willow Wood Stables! At the entrance to the stables Aria handed her small white ticket to the lady and she ripped it in half and gave her a number. 26.
While Aria was grooming Polaroid, Steven approached with a tall bay horse by his side. He laughed. “Do you seriously think you have a chance at winning?” Aria didn't reply, and looked away. Steven walked away sniggering like a child, his horse pacing nervously.
Polaroid watched Steven and the tall bay horse in the arena. They were good.
“Number 26?” Aria gathered her reins and rode into the arena. Her stomach tossed and turned as she stood at the starting line. She tapped Polaroid’s sides softly and he broke into a canter, approaching the first jump. He was incredible, and he cleared jump after jump. Aria urged her horse forward as she approached the double. He flew over them with ease, and charged forward even faster. The spectators stared in awe at the horse’s incredible speed. The final jump approached. Aria had no time to be scared, and Polaroid flew over it within seconds.
When Aria dismounted it was all a blur. People cheered and clapped as Aria exited the arena. It felt like a dream. She saw her parents outside Aria’s stable and ran over to them, enveloping them in a massive hug.
“Come on! You need your picture taken!” Aria stepped out into the arena and was bombarded by paparazzi and the media. One tall woman came up to her and asked:
“Is that horse the infamous Photo Album?” She held a microphone towards Amelia’s face.
“No.” Aria ran her hands through her horse’s warm mane. “He is mine, and his name is Polaroid.” Her eyes shimmered as she saw Stephen sulking in the background.
Later back home, Aria knew Polaroid would be her destiny. "I will open a stables, and will ride horses like you, Polaroid. When I am older." She stroked his mane gently. 'But you aren't a jumper, are you?' she glanced over to her birthday present - a dressage saddle. 'You're a dressage horse.' Aria grabbed her camera again and snapped a picture of him, all neat and braided.
'If I only remember one moment, I want to remember this one.'

Poem: When I look into your eyes,
Blue pools of truth,
I see through to your soul,
Spirit and heart.

Coat Color: Blue Roan

Markings: Splash

Tack: Saddle Bridle Saddle Pad Polo Wraps

You will be my girl.

Mane Edit: Here
Tail Edit: Here

Why I Want It: He is gorgeous, my dream colour too! You have no idea how much I love blue roan horses, and preppy, he is like the most PERFECT horse ever! I just love him so much, and he brings back memories, hence why I named him Photo Album.

What I would do with it: I would do some art for him, write some stories and do many other things! I will be writing/drawing a

And nothing could tear us apart.

comic for my stables WWS, as well as writing a novel of it, and adding horses as I go. Polaroid would be my horse of the month, and I would love him so much. He is just perfect already.

Other: Thank you very much for the opportunity! He is just too gorgeous. This is my inspiration, as I found it and knew he would suit the name polaroid perfectly! I know prettying forms is not allowed, so I hope displaying this photo is ok...

My art may be terrible, but I have tried really hard. This horse means a lot, blue roan is special to me.

[hypersomnia.]

Owner: Oh My Gods
Show Name: Morning Rain
Barn Name: Rain
Gender: Stallion
Height: 15.1 hh
Age: (Young Adult) 2
Personality: Rain is stubborn and quick to judge. Always searching for some sort of trickery, he certainly is a suspicious detective. One mistake, and your our of his life forever. Don't come back. Ive warned you.
Coat Color: Blue Roan
Markings: Splash
Mane Edit: X
Tail Edit: X
Other: What a beautiful coat <3 He is absolutely amazing, keep up the great work!

[Chronometer]

Owner: Chronometer
Show Name: The Mad Captain
Barn Name: Sawyer
Behind the name: I'm a great fan of the Hornblower series, and Captain Sawyer has always been one of my favourite characters. He's portrayed as utterly insane and incapable of running his ship properly. However, through small details, you begin to get the sense that he tries to fight the madness, and return to being the great man he once was. The contrasts between the dark and the light in this horse's coat were what reminded me of this character.
Breed: Warmblood Cross
Gender: Stallion
Height: 16.3 hh
Age: 8
Discipline: Showjumping. He finds dressage boring, and he tolerates cross country, but does not compete.

A man always ready to adopt the bold course, a man who infinitely preferred action to inaction.

Personality: This stallion is the sort of horse you'd warn children to stay away from at the barn. He's aggressive and moody, and is entirely convinced he knows best. He is recklessly brave, and manages to get himself in all sorts of sticky situations that he is incapable of finding a way out of. Sawyer often rewards the bravery of others with cooperation (but never submission), so he requires a forward-thinking and determined rider. He believes play and enjoyment are contrary to his dignity, and must be avoided, though he can't resist a few guilty pleasures. He's fond of water, and can sometimes be seen splashing about in his water trough, though he stops as soon as he realises he has been spotted.

History: Sawyer was born on a nice little stud farm in the United States. He was sold to Cottonwood before he was properly weaned, which resulted in several mental insecurities. The staff at Cottonwood were patient and good to him, and eventually got him nicely trained under saddle. After working with him for a few years, they began to look for a nice home to sell him to. At this time, Celine Lenoir from Meyer's Point Farm was in the US, looking for horses. She liked the moody stallion, and bought him to take overseas, to White Star Isle. The stallion had to be transported by sea, since the airstrip was not large enough to accommodate a commercial jet. Once Sawyer had arrived on the island, Lenoir began searching for prospective owners, and found Dr Pollard. A phone call convinced him to visit the horse, and he fell in love and bought the stallion.
Coat Color: Blue Roan
Markings: Splash
Mane Edit: Here
Tail Edit: Here
Other: Normally, I don't really like paints or horses with too much white, but this boy caught my eye, and I've fallen in love! It takes quite a horse to do that . You've done a wonderful job on him, Preppy, and thank you so much for the opportunity to try out for such a handsome boy. If I do win him, he'll join my two other Cottonwood horses, and I'll create a nice barn for them. He'd compete in Showjumping, since he loves the thrill it gives him. And those eyes just make my heart melt <3
Art:Defiant Put The 'Fly' In Fly Change- a short story has been included with this piece.
Song:To One In Paradise

Homeward Bound

It had been ridiculously difficult to bring the horse on board the ship. He simply refused to do it. He pranced, bucked, kicked and reared, and all but flew when he was urged to move. It was chaos, with Lenoir shouting at the men to keep her horse safe, the men shouting at each other in hopeless efforts to coordinate themselves, and the stallion wreaking havoc in the middle of it.

Sawyer was not afraid; for fear was beneath him. It was just not in his interest to enter the big black hole leading to the hold. Wip - to be finished tonight

A New Arrival

Meyer's Point Farm had imported another horse from America. This time, it was a stallion. On top of that, it was a roan, had splash markings, and had a nasty temper. These were all the things that Dr. Pollard loathed in a horse. But he was intrigued anyways, and could not deny the spark of excitement that came with the prospect of buying a new horse. The telephone call had described him as 'quite the looker', with 'several interesting quirks', though he had received further information over a cup of coffee with the head of the Department of Agriculture.

"He's a nasty little thing," the lady had said.
"The horse is as mad as his namesake. When we unloaded him, he kicked one of our fellows in the leg. The poor lad needed twelve stitches!"

Pollard had been told by the caller that the horse was certainly a great addition to his herd. He knew
the staff at Meyer's were always excellent at finding the best owners for their horses, though the words from the Agriculture lady gave him mixed feelings.

Eventually, the doctor gave in to his curiosity and set off to have a look at this insane creature. As he started up his old automobile, he was already daydreaming about the impression the flashy horse would make, despite his temper. The drive to Meyer's was fairly short, and he was passing their ornate gates in what seemed an instant. The staff greeted him politely, and led him to a small paddock where the stallion was held.

He certainly was handsome, with his white contrasting nicely with his black points and bluish coat. The horse was standing by his water trough with his ears flat back, and an expression that seemed to say 'Leave immediately. I require privacy.' Pollard was instantly reminded of numerous sea captains who considered themselves far above civilians, and openly implied that the annoying little landsmen were hardly more than useless.

"Should we take him out for you, sir?" one of the hands inquired.

Pollard replied with the affirmative, and one unfortunate young man was sent to retrieve the horse. This proved to be rather difficult, with the stallion utterly disgusted that one of the humans had entered his territory without permission. He kicked and reared and bit, but eventually, with the help of several carrots and a bucket of oats, was caught and led to the outdoor arena. The handsome stallion was turned loose, and flew around the arena in a rage, bucking and kicking like a madman. Pollard noted that he had excellent balance, maintaining both leads in counter-canter, and performing spontaneous lead changes here and there. His gaits were expressive and proud, and his bucks were athletic and quick. Pollard found himself grinning - this horse would be a challenge to train and he knew it. He had been informed that the stallion was backed already, though he had thrown quite a few riders in the process.

Meanwhile, the horse had begun to quiet down, and Pollard asked if he could enter the arena himself. The staff exchanged worried glances, and opened the gate to let him in. Once inside, Pollard approached the horse boldly. The animal bared his teeth and pinned his ears aggressively.

"Stop that at once, if you please!" exclaimed the doctor hotly. The stallion seemed surprised at the words, with their strange balance of authority and passiveness. He obliged, and watched the man who approached him curiously. Pollard regarded the horse with a critical eye, and snapped a lead rope to his halter. The horse allowed himself to be lead to the gate, where the pair stopped and stared at each other again. The stallion decided he liked the man, and the man decided he liked the stallion.

"I shall purchase this horse." Pollard announced proudly to the Meyer's Point staff, leading the colourful American horse out of the gate.

He knew he was in for some trouble.

[preppy paws]

Okay I have my two people who I think really deserve this boy. And that is Chronometer and {horse}. I feel like they really deserve him. So guys, I am going to ask my fellow other artists to see who the true winner will be. So just hang in there with me. I must say, this one is the toughest one to judge out of all the cwhr horses I have judged. Chrono and horse, you may edit your forms to boost up your points if you would like. But I'm not really going for the prettiest form, I am going for the small details.

[sjmaef5]

Okay I have my two people who I think really deserve this boy. And that is Chronometer and {horse}. I feel like they really deserve him. So guys, I am going to ask my fellow other artists to see who the true winner will be. So just hang in there with me. I must say, this one is the toughest one to judge out of all the cwhr horses I have judged. Chrono and horse, you may edit your forms to boost up your points if you would like. But I'm not really going for the prettiest form, I am going for the small details.

I know we were not allowed to pretty up forms, but may we add extras like horse did? If so I will add to get more points, I love this guy so much!

[preppy paws]

Owner: {h o r s e}
Show Name: Photo Album
Barn Name: Polaroid
Gender: Stallion
Height: 15.3hh
Age: 5
Breed: Andalusian x Thoroughbred (50/50)
Discipline: Dressage
Theme Song: Another World - The Vamps

Personality: Polaroid is kinda forgetful. He relies on memories. I mean, when he has to recall the past, he relies on visual memories, as he is a visual learner. He is kinda silly, I mean, he can get into awkward places at times, and is known to injure himself a bit.

History: Polaroid was born on a small property and raised by a small girl. She created a photobook, displaying all their memories. Polaroid went through a rough period in his life, but at the end of it, the young Aria of WWS found him and brought him to WWS. The photobook was given to WWS, and more photos are being added.

Art: Here Here Here

Story: I trudged down the track, my head to the ground and my hooves dragging against the stones in the dirt path. I kept walking, but looked up when I noticed that the path stopped short. There was a fork in the path, and I had to choose which way to go. One path, was light and airy, still sheltered by trees, but sunshine was filtering through. The other path was dark and eerie, not a path that anyone would like to take. I sighed as I tried to make a decision. The easy way, or the hard way. The easy way would take me right to where I was looking to go, but the hard path would make more memories. I turned to take the hard path.

I knew I had made the right choice, because even though the hard way made me overcome many obstacles, I had a bunch of memories to remember. Maybe I should put it in my photo album.
Story 2: Air rushed out of my nostrils as my rider urged me on into a trot. My muscles moved effortlessly as I strode across the arena. I held my head high, but my head was in a frame. Every time my hoof touched the ground, I sprung back into the air, extending and shortening my trot at my rider's command. At the slightest touch on my rider's heels, I sprung into a canter. The world flew past me as I balanced myself around the corner. My rider steered me towards the middle of the arena and asked for a flying change. I braced myself and responded immediately, sitting back and changing the lead. The icy air sent chills down my spine, but I kept going, my body gradually warming against the chilly frost.

In another world...

We kept going for a long time, and when my rider turned me in to the arena at the canter again, I knew what was next. She wanted me to do a flying change every stride. I sat back and completed one flying change, and immediately switching the lead afterwards. I

I know, I know, I know, I know, that,

was dripping with sweat and exhaustion, as my rider brought me back to a walk, patting me and praising me continuously. The rider called out to the person waiting at the gate. 'Did you get the picture?'

Story 3: When Polaroid was born, he was welcomed into a loving family, and he thought his life was perfect, but things changed, and he was sold to the wrong owners, who thought he was perfect for showjumping..
~~

Small rain drops pattered on the roof of the arena, but inside, all that could be heard was the rhythmic beat of the horse’s hooves and the occasional cough or sneeze from a spectator. The rider’s spurs dug harder into the horse’s sides. Everyone stared in awe at the incredible horse. Everyone knew him. Photo Album was his name, and he won every jump off he has competed in. This particular competition was the Willow Spring Stables cup, with a whopping cash prize of $8000. Album’s rider clung onto his mane. The final jump was near. Spectators sat on the edge of their seats in anticipation, and the rain grew stronger. The rider dug harder into Album’s sides as the jump loomed ahead. The horse squealed. He couldn't stand the spurring, and with one kick, the rider went flying into the air. He stared at his startled rider. It was over. His chance was ruined.
The rider stormed into Album’s stable and groomed him briskly. No sugar cubes. The horse held up his forefoot in pain. Dave, his owner yelled to the rider. “Steven! Get that horse in the trailer.” Steven dragged the limping horse into the trailer, not noticing the swollen forefoot. He slammed the door closed and jumped into the car. Album was driven away.
Steven later on noticed the terrible pain Album was in, but he hastily wrapped a bandage on him, and saddled him up. Album stood still while Steven heaved himself onto his strong back. The slightest tap of the heels would have made him walk, but instead Steven gave him a nasty kick and Album jumped in fright. He broke into a trot, limping so badly that Steven bounced around like a sack of potatoes. Steven kicked him on to the first jump set up in the arena. Album couldn't stand the pain, and he stopped. Steven kicked, yelled and hit him so many times with the whip that Album did something bad for the first time in his life. He bucked, and reared and pigrooted in a flying frenzy, then collapsed to the ground. Steven, who had fallen off went over to Album, pulled him up and dragged him to the stables.
A week later, Album's foot started healing, and Steven put him in the paddock. The paddock was bare, and he grazed where he could, but that was all he was fed. One day, Dave came and put him in the trailer. They drove for quite a while until Album stepped out into a paddock far from home. He looked around curiously.
“I can’t believe it took you so long to decide how to get rid of this wreck!” Steven complained.
“Well” Dave replied “I guess I should never have bought him.”
Dave let Album loose in the paddock. He stared curiously as Dave hopped into the rusty old ute. “Coming?” He called out to Steven.
It just happened to be that young Aria of WWS was sitting beside the paddock, drawing wild horses in her book. She looked up at the horse in the rusty old paddock. “Excuse me sir?” She interrupted Steven who was about to drive away.
“What?” He snapped.
“That horse... is he yours?” she gestured towards Album.
“Look kid, if you want him, go for your life but don’t expect any good out of him.”
Aria gave a small nod, and Steven hopped in the ute next to Dave, yelling “Good luck with that wreck of a horse.” And without another word, he sped off down the highway.
For a long time Aria stared at Album. He stared back at her. Album cautiously stepped towards Aria’s outstretched arm. He smelt her hand and snorted, stepping back. “It’s okay, boy,” she whispered. She stepped towards him and stroked his neck softly. She inspected the wounds on Album’s sides. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, and ran off into the distance.
Album didn't twitch until Aria came running back towards the paddock. He whinnied happily. “It’s okay, boy!” She laughed. “I’d never leave you.” Aria pulled out an ice pack and placed it on his foot, securing it with a bandage. “This should help” She grabbed a bottle of water and a cloth and wiped the gashes on his belly. They were then covered with bandages. Aria returned to Album’s neck and stroked him. “What a chance I’d find you!” she smiled. “You’re stunning!” Album nosed her shoulder playfully. “You're that Photo Album huh? I think I'll name you polaroid.” Aria pulled out a camera and snapped a picture, a polaroid printing out. First Day.
Album, who was now named Polaroid, was up early and he paced across the rusty old fence, waiting for Aria to come. Sure enough, she did, and with her she bought a delicious meal that consisted of a bunch of juicy carrots, a package of oats and some slightly bruised apples. As she unpacked them she talked “When I told mum and dad about you, they said that I was way too young for a horse. ‘You’re only Twelve years old, Aria!’ They would say.” She sighed. “I’m going to prove them wrong. We’re going to try and win the Willow Wood stables cup.” She opened the oats.
Aria pulled a dirty old blue head collar out of the bag and carefully buckled it on. Polaroid stood obediently. She walked forward and he followed. She turned, walked backwards and ran. Polaroid followed too. “Well, I guess that’s covered. Now all I need is some tack…”
The next morning Aria plodded up the hill carrying a saddle and bridle. “Look what I got! I found them in the old cattle shed. I gave them a clean, so all that’s left now is to try them out.” Aria gently placed an old cloth on Polaroid’s back and after that, a dusty saddle. She put the bridle on, and smoothed his forelock down. Polaroid didn't seem to mind this, so Aria carefully mounted. At the tap of her heels, Polaroid proceeded to a lively walk. Aria trotted, cantered and even galloped on Polaroid, a massive grin on her face the whole time. He was cooled down, and fed well. Polaroid had never been so happy.
For the next few weeks, Aria and Polaroid practiced and practiced. Amelia was there every day. Time flew by, and it was only a week before the competition. Aria kept raising her homemade jumps until they were as tall as the jumps at Willow Wood would be. Polaroid jumped them with ease. They were ready.
Aria was at the paddock earlier than usual. She groomed Polaroid’s coat thoroughly, and braided his mane. The old saddle, now scrubbed with saddle soap was placed on his back with a sparkling white saddle pad. Aria put the bridle on, and mounted. She grabbed a backpack laden with food, brushes and clothing. In her hand she gripped a small white ticket. “This is our chance.”
Polaroid and Aria rode at a leisurely walk for 40 minutes until they arrived at Willow Wood stables. It was like a dream. She was really at Willow Wood Stables! At the entrance to the stables Aria handed her small white ticket to the lady and she ripped it in half and gave her a number. 26.
While Aria was grooming Polaroid, Steven approached with a tall bay horse by his side. He laughed. “Do you seriously think you have a chance at winning?” Aria didn't reply, and looked away. Steven walked away sniggering like a child, his horse pacing nervously.
Polaroid watched Steven and the tall bay horse in the arena. They were good.
“Number 26?” Aria gathered her reins and rode into the arena. Her stomach tossed and turned as she stood at the starting line. She tapped Polaroid’s sides softly and he broke into a canter, approaching the first jump. He was incredible, and he cleared jump after jump. Aria urged her horse forward as she approached the double. He flew over them with ease, and charged forward even faster. The spectators stared in awe at the horse’s incredible speed. The final jump approached. Aria had no time to be scared, and Polaroid flew over it within seconds.
When Aria dismounted it was all a blur. People cheered and clapped as Aria exited the arena. It felt like a dream. She saw her parents outside Aria’s stable and ran over to them, enveloping them in a massive hug.
“Come on! You need your picture taken!” Aria stepped out into the arena and was bombarded by paparazzi and the media. One tall woman came up to her and asked:
“Is that horse the infamous Photo Album?” She held a microphone towards Amelia’s face.
“No.” Aria ran her hands through her horse’s warm mane. “He is mine, and his name is Polaroid.” Her eyes shimmered as she saw Stephen sulking in the background.
Later back home, Aria knew Polaroid would be her destiny. "I will open a stables, and will ride horses like you, Polaroid. When I am older." She stroked his mane gently. 'But you aren't a jumper, are you?' she glanced over to her birthday present - a dressage saddle. 'You're a dressage horse.' Aria grabbed her camera again and snapped a picture of him, all neat and braided.
'If I only remember one moment, I want to remember this one.'

Poem: When I look into your eyes,
Blue pools of truth,
I see through to your soul,
Spirit and heart.

Coat Color: Blue Roan

Markings: Splash

Tack: Saddle Bridle Saddle Pad Polo Wraps

You will be my girl.

Mane Edit: Here
Tail Edit: Here

Why I Want It: He is gorgeous, my dream colour too! You have no idea how much I love blue roan horses, and preppy, he is like the most PERFECT horse ever! I just love him so much, and he brings back memories, hence why I named him Photo Album.

What I would do with it: I would do some art for him, write some stories and do many other things! I will be writing/drawing a

And nothing could tear us apart.

comic for my stables WWS, as well as writing a novel of it, and adding horses as I go. Polaroid would be my horse of the month, and I would love him so much. He is just perfect already.

Other: Thank you very much for the opportunity! He is just too gorgeous. This is my inspiration, as I found it and knew he would suit the name polaroid perfectly! I know prettying forms is not allowed, so I hope displaying this photo is ok...

My art may be terrible, but I have tried really hard. This horse means a lot, blue roan is special to me.

Winner! c:

[Chronometer]

Congrats! I hope you enjoy him! Yo can keep my art if you would like to
Best of luck with your stories, I love your writing!

[orse]

OMG thank you! I would love to use your art on him page, Chronometer. I love your stories too! And you are a very talented artist.

Thank you Preppy! I loooove him too much! Ahh thank you!