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Description
Continuation of:
<-- Last season

"It is my hope that in the months and years ahead, life will return almost to normal. We'll go back to our lives and routines, and that is good. Even grief recedes with time and grace."
~George W. Bush

Aiaru glared at the man leaning against her fenceline. Strange people everywhere, strange scents and sounds and smells, strange foal nudging its way between her back legs; they made her grumpy. The mare stamped a hoof unhappily, shooing the filly out. The carbon copy creature, used to her dam's moods, simply weaved her way toward the front and glided away to investigate a patch of snow. The two dark hides stood out starkly against the pristine white, large shadows on an unchanging landscape.

"She's mine, then?" the man asked his companion.

TJ sighed. "I wish I could say I was happy about it," she murmured.

Dolorez turned to look at his best friend in sympathy. "You don't think he's coming back." It wasn't a question.

TJ rested her chin on a fist and watched little Aisa puzzle out the existence of a black bird in the trees nearby. "No, I don't."

A silence enveloped them, a quiet but living thing sitting on their shoulders, surrounding them, suffocating them. Finally, Dolorez asked, "Do I need to pick out my crop or has that already been taken care of?"

"You'll take over Dawson's stable along with all his runners, plus pick out your share of the two-year-olds." TJ finally looked at him. "You going to stick around this time?"

Dolorez smiled softly. "I never left, princess."

TJ scoffed. "Right. You've been hovering over us in spirit form while your body tanned and exfoliated itself in the Caribbean. Forgive me for forgetting."

Dolorez chuckled, but it was mostly for TJ's benefit. Dawson's resignation had hit everyone hard, minus himself. He never really knew the man like this lot did. And yes, it was true--he had been elsewhere over the past few years since his retirement, but he hadn't lied. He had always been here for the woman he loved, always just one phone call away. But he had waited too long, hadn't wanted to hit on the boss and complicate things, and now she had Rafe and Lia and her own life that no longer included him. So he had left; bought a boat, hoisted his flag and set sail. He forgot his troubles and let the salty winds blow them away. The ocean was calming like that. He slept in late and ate gobs of food and drank shitloads of water whenever he wanted. And it was a good life. Really.

Only here he was, once again looking out over the broodmare paddocks of Black Creek Crossing Stables, his home away from home for twenty years, watching the newest generation kick and run and grow. It was the same, and yet different. So different. This time, he wasn't some skinny snot-nosed jock looking over Dark Bullet Day for the first time. He was a man now, an old man in this business, with five decades of life experience and the gray hairs to prove it. He was also the new trainer of BCC Stables, and he was scared shitless.

Name: Aisa
Barn Name: n/a
Gender: Filly
Projected Height: 16hh
Color: Smoky black
Eyes: Blue
Markings: Snip
Build: Aisa wears her El Diablo heritage like a cloak. No sign of Jacques's awkward foal years lay within her conformation. She is elegance and beauty. Long, lean limbs and muscles and a petite head give her an Arabic feel.
Breed: Thoroughbred
Bloodlines: Thatthemeweknow x Aiaru
Genes: Ee/aa/nCr
Temperament: A very quiet creature, Aisa didn't seem to inherit either of her parents' personalities. She is an intriguing horse, very genteel and submissive to both equines and humans alike.
Stable: Black Creek Crossing Stables

Art, Characters, and Story (C) Me

Next on:

Description
Continuation of:
<-- Last season

"It is my hope that in the months and years ahead, life will return almost to normal. We'll go back to our lives and routines, and that is good. Even grief recedes with time and grace."
~George W. Bush

Aiaru glared at the man leaning against her fenceline. Strange people everywhere, strange scents and sounds and smells, strange foal nudging its way between her back legs; they made her grumpy. The mare stamped a hoof unhappily, shooing the filly out. The carbon copy creature, used to her dam's moods, simply weaved her way toward the front and glided away to investigate a patch of snow. The two dark hides stood out starkly against the pristine white, large shadows on an unchanging landscape.

"She's mine, then?" the man asked his companion.

TJ sighed. "I wish I could say I was happy about it," she murmured.

Dolorez turned to look at his best friend in sympathy. "You don't think he's coming back." It wasn't a question.

TJ rested her chin on a fist and watched little Aisa puzzle out the existence of a black bird in the trees nearby. "No, I don't."

A silence enveloped them, a quiet but living thing sitting on their shoulders, surrounding them, suffocating them. Finally, Dolorez asked, "Do I need to pick out my crop or has that already been taken care of?"

"You'll take over Dawson's stable along with all his runners, plus pick out your share of the two-year-olds." TJ finally looked at him. "You going to stick around this time?"

Dolorez smiled softly. "I never left, princess."

TJ scoffed. "Right. You've been hovering over us in spirit form while your body tanned and exfoliated itself in the Caribbean. Forgive me for forgetting."

Dolorez chuckled, but it was mostly for TJ's benefit. Dawson's resignation had hit everyone hard, minus himself. He never really knew the man like this lot did. And yes, it was true--he had been elsewhere over the past few years since his retirement, but he hadn't lied. He had always been here for the woman he loved, always just one phone call away. But he had waited too long, hadn't wanted to hit on the boss and complicate things, and now she had Rafe and Lia and her own life that no longer included him. So he had left; bought a boat, hoisted his flag and set sail. He forgot his troubles and let the salty winds blow them away. The ocean was calming like that. He slept in late and ate gobs of food and drank shitloads of water whenever he wanted. And it was a good life. Really.

Only here he was, once again looking out over the broodmare paddocks of Black Creek Crossing Stables, his home away from home for twenty years, watching the newest generation kick and run and grow. It was the same, and yet different. So different. This time, he wasn't some skinny snot-nosed jock looking over Dark Bullet Day for the first time. He was a man now, an old man in this business, with five decades of life experience and the gray hairs to prove it. He was also the new trainer of BCC Stables, and he was scared shitless.

Name: Aisa
Barn Name: n/a
Gender: Filly
Projected Height: 16hh
Color: Smoky black
Eyes: Blue
Markings: Snip
Build: Aisa wears her El Diablo heritage like a cloak. No sign of Jacques's awkward foal years lay within her conformation. She is elegance and beauty. Long, lean limbs and muscles and a petite head give her an Arabic feel.
Breed: Thoroughbred
Bloodlines: Thatthemeweknow x Aiaru
Genes: Ee/aa/nCr
Temperament: A very quiet creature, Aisa didn't seem to inherit either of her parents' personalities. She is an intriguing horse, very genteel and submissive to both equines and humans alike.
Stable: Black Creek Crossing Stables

Art, Characters, and Story (C) Me

Next on: