Some pictures of my gallery
Listen to "The Windmills of Your Mind" by Michel Legrand:
Welcome to Waving Tree Stud!
Located in wonderful South Germany, in the nature reserve of the Donautal, our farm is full of surprises.
In olden days, our stud used to be a horse sanctuary for old, unloved horses, formerly called "Hof zu den drei Eichen".
With the success of the first rescued warmbloods, Skywalker and Blueberry, the upswing began. Now our stud lodges around 20 horses, rescued ones as well as own breedings, every single one of them a successful sport horse today.
Feel free to take a look at our stables, breathe in the fresh air, enjoy a ride around the landscape or through the Danube. You'll be immediately charmed by the magic of this little farm and its inhabitants...
WTS also proved itself as very sucessful in smaller tournaments - lodging very promising young riders and horses.
hai ♥ It's Sho, Sky, or simply Sarah, what you prefer.
I'm currently 18 years old and I live in beautiful southern Germany, where the people have got this strange dialect, you know.
Drawing is my biggest hobby, my passion, my life. I always find some time to sketch something, even in the times of stressful school days. Sometimes I don't really live in reality anymore, I'm a true dreamer, a storyteller. With drawings and stories ♥
I believe in God and Jesus Christ - HE is my saviour, and he makes my life wonderful! ♥♥
15.o9.13 - Psalm 86,11
Now have my stamp-army to describe myself:
I love Pooh ♥
tiny little piece of scrap paper / left behind / forgotten / unwanted / wonder whose it was? / where did the rest of you go? / is it in some student's folder? / is it in some fledgling artist's sketchbook? / is it a paper airplane poised for its first flight? / is it a paper boat, destined to float to a soggy, watery grave? / is it too in pieces like you, so made in a moment of frustration at an idea lost forever? / is it stuck in tiny specks to the walls of a classroom, legacy of a spitwad fight? / is it tinder for some flickering campfire? / is it shared with a friend who forgot their notebook? / is it folded into some fantastical origami creature? / is it destined to be stuck onto a paper-mache puppet? / is it bedding for some child's pet? / all i know is that the rest of this paper doesn't have this poem on it
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH A DD?!?!?!?!
I don't know what to say?!?! I'm sitting at work and can't explode with happiness right now!
Thank you so much for the suggestion and feature!
aaaah I've reached my life goal! xD
Featuring Éilias (age 7)
Late Summer, Year 749 of the New Age
Sorghum Peak, Windborne
Music: Promentory (Trevor Jones) - Last of the Mohicans Soundtrack
It was his seventh year, when Éilias made plans over plans. Plans were everywhere, occupying his mind and soul - plans what life he was planning to lead, and man, that would be a life.
The buck had grown into something extraordinarily lanky, a slim body carried by long legs; the sparse fuzz that covered his chest was just starting to grow into something more proper and manly. Though his young antlers still weren't big enough to be called "impressive", they were already a very useful tool to fight and train. Especially to train - Éilias rarely delighted in another freetime activity - but that had something to do with the mentioned plans of him.
The wiry chestnut was planning to become a guard.
His father Éamonn , being a very sucessful guard himself, had always been a enormous role model for the young stag - especially proud was he now that his body slowly grew to be as strong and tall as his father's.
He resembled his father in looks and mind. And the important value in both minds was loyalty.
Éilias had wanted to own the same respectable duty for some time already - but it was not before this one occasion that this idea began to manifest in his mind, growing and growing more with each day until it was safe and solid.
It was a beautiful late summer day. The first blue spot got visible in the sky after days of rain and storm; the Wind had raged, and nobody knew why. Éilias was spending the day with his brand new friend Artaxerxes - who'd come from Silverthorne and reached an impressive height already - sparring a little, running a little, talking a little.
Suddenly, a squeak echoed through the bushes, followed by a full-grown scream. A doe's scream. Rut was near, maybe a demanding stag had approached her prematurely - but no matter the matter, it was a doe in need, so the young friends shared a nod and dashed forward to save the damsel in distress.
It was like they had expected. A tall, but not to strong-looking (to their advantage) stag was pressing a beautiful little roan doe against a tree. He seemingly tried to convince or, better, force her to join his harem or something of the kind.
"HEY!", Éilias stepped forward and lowered his head threateningly.
The stag grunted, very displeased about the interruption, and turned around to face the two youngsters who dared to confront him. Xerxes tried to hide a tremble, but his chestnut friend was still, all four hooves firm on the ground, and met the tall stag's eye with his own.
The latter knew immediately what his opponent wanted. He snorted amusedly, assuming himself as the superior, and lowered his head to present his freshly shed antlers. "You two are funny little ones, but you have guts. Wanna fight? If you win, I leave that doe to you."
The thought "I'll win anyway" still lingered in his head when he already felt the young chestnut's head slam into his.
He didn't win, though. He had underestimated Éilias' grit and courage, and his persistance. Whenever his opponent was knocked over, he would get up again and take another run.
Just one idea occupied the chestnut's head: to help defending this doe's honor. He would protect her, even if he didn't know her name, and nothing would stop him from this duty.
Together, the two bucks would push the tall stag back until he yielded, stretching his neck where Éilias had landed a hit with his undersized antlers, and toddled off.
To but a long story short... the doe practically kissed their hooves and cried in thankfulness that those two wonderful, mighty stags had defended her. Éilias felt a little awkward at the situation, but not less proud of himself, of course. This, being such a saviour, a hero, felt good. Really good.
"At first I thought you were guards who come to my defence - but then I saw you were too young...", the doe sighed, still trembling and confused. She obviously was a little out of her mind, but Éilias suddenly took her words very seriously.
"I'm sure you will be mighty and astounding guards one day... thank you, thank you!", she blindly chattered on, not noticing that she was cut off by Éilias brisk words "Oh, of course we'll be guards one day, we're already training - and saving young does in distress is our first and foremost duty"
"Oh mate, just let's go", Xerxes said, feeling a bit uncomfortable next to his flirting friend, and tugged at the chestnuts' ear to pull him away.
The Wind was brisk and excited today, it rushed around the trees of Sorghum Peak, teared at the grass and danced around with the first fallen leaves. In the middle of it all, a young stag - climbing up the well-known path to the mountain top to enjoy the sight and feel the Wind in his hair. The familiar power all around him seemed to be as zealous as himself, throwing up the few leaves and ripped-out plants in furious happiness.
A deep red was poured out all over the sky, a colour that slowly dripped down on the forest soil, the ground of his belowed kingdom. As the red touched the ground, it transformed into a rich, cold blue, which finally summoned a thick, white mass of heavy fog.
It was a marvellous sight, and Éilias couldn help stopping dead in his tracks, only to turn around and gaze into the bright sea of light behind and in front of him. His kingdom. The kingdom that had born him, the kingdom he loved and would serve and protect forever.
Up here, the wind had strangely stopped whirling around, leaving behind a silence the young stag could now fill with his thoughts and plans. A happiness arose from somewhere deep inside his body, a bliss that burst out of him in sudden laughter.
The stag had seen and felt enough. Still laughing and woo-hooing with his adolescent voice, he turned around and ran downhill, his head and heart filled with new plans and resolutions.
art and 1035-word-story: + 3 stamina (climbing up a hill, fighting someone...)
Let me explain this shortly - Éliot and his father have so much in common, it hurts. xD They also have their differences, you'll see that soon - but the similarities are really important in their younger years.
Éilias was raised to be an absolutely loyal stag. Of course he wants to join the guard. Éliot has experienced a similar upbringing. Both look up to their fathers. Both want to step in their fathers' hoofsteps.
(okay, they have different aims with that - Eli always wants to prove something, to himself or to others, while Éilias considers his duty as his life duty. He lives for his work, while Eli still just thinks that it's his destination because... it's difficult to explain xD)
And then Sorghum Peak, where they both make important decisions. (Maybe you remember that).
The funny thing, they don't even know how much they have in common
but if Eli knew what I just wrote, he'd be the happiest little buck on the Western Isles xD
This was still drawn when I was on holidays. I just never came around to finish the crappy story. xD
and I still need to type out his POV of recent events! and I want to continue Eli's plot! D: gasp!
Art, characters (c) by me, no ref used
are created by Ehetere
follow me on tumblr to see sketches and WIPs, and other stuff ♥