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Palaminodes Sextus was the cleverest horsecromancer of his generation. That meant he did horse necromancy or something. He was really good at it.
He was galloping around the paddock with his horse second cousin Coltmilla. They were banging horse style. This is okay in horse culture, and also it's fine for real life humans. Some of y'all need to cool it with the judgement.
Then one day some new horsies showed up at the stable. They were bone dyke horses. They came from a different paddock, but they were here now.
Harrowhorse Neighnagesimus looked haughtily at Palaminodes. Gideon Nav, whose name does not lend itself to any horse puns I know, was with her. She was a sorrel mare. Sorrel is horse for ginger.
“Neigh,” Palaminodes said. “Neigh neigh whinny.”
Harrowhorse snorted in derision.
“Whinny whinny neigh,” Harrowhorse said.
Coltmilla stomped a hoof in warning.
“Boobs,” Gideon said.
“You—do you talk?” said Isaac. He is a human stable hand in this story. Keep up.
“You'll wish she didn't,” said Coltmilla.