The tin roof of the stable warmed the night air, still burning hot from a day of exposure to the blazing sun. The horses brayed in delight as Sandy pushed open the doors, their weathered creaks alerting the horses to her presence. Sandy walked past the chestnut mares, their soft fur coats glistening in the beams of moonlight that had broken through the shelter’s roof. She ignored the mares, instead striding with purpose toward the far end of the stables. There, nestled as far away from the female horses as possible, was the stable’s only stallion, a breeding horse named Ace.
Sandy smiled as she reached the stallion’s pen. Ace was a large, stocky horse, with a dark, ebony coat. She stood there, staring in awe at the horse’s sheer size. Sandy stood at about 5’3, short for a sixteen-year-old. She had a petite figure, her loose, blonde hair just reaching her shoulders. Her pale skin stood out against the stallion as she brushed him down. Ace towered above her, a full foot taller.