 01:10:14 Vecc - TBs| Glacier - it would probably end up another variant of leopard |
01:09:22 DD (#2)| Ven, It is crazy, The highest i've gotten is EWW, But this capture day i saw WWW after WWW |
01:08:43 Aki <3| Haven't caught a WWW yet, there's always next time. |
01:08:17 Aki <3| I got lucky and captured like 3 WEE's and one EWW using maps. I missed the capture party though since I was in the hospital. |
01:07:00 Ven| The idea of capturing two WWW within like an hour of each other is beyond my comprehension. I've spent 14 RL years capturing horses with every spare EB I have and I'll get a wild WWW maybe once every year or two. If I'm lucky. |
01:05:45 DD (#2)| Ven, there were so many this capture party lol |
01:05:28 Ven| Some people captured multiple |
01:04:56 Ven| I don't know the exact numbers but it looked like ~25-30 WWWs were captured this past party? |
01:04:21 Ven| I remember when one WWW KNN, period, was exciting lol |
01:04:01 (AC) Angel 🐈| Wonder what would happen if I rerolled a peacock horse |
01:01:21 DD (#2)| Kuewi, Really! that's amazing! |
12:59:45 Bazinga Force there will be 8 WWW KNN freshmen in y 187!
this is almost unbelievable |
12:56:10 Bazinga Force technically all the top rated Premiums were upgraded to Elites.
And then the top Elites were named WC
So I assume that these ratings are really close to each other |
12:52:37 Nay| So some horses then even got their P rating upgraded to an E |
12:50:17 Fawn (Mystic)| -HEE Click- To genetic test or not to genetic testÂ… I want to make sure sheÂ’s not RnRn lol |
12:49:34 Fawn (Mystic) Nay
DidnÂ’t that used to be the highest rating at one point? |
12:48:59 Fawn (Mystic) DD
For me IÂ’ve saved a lot more money just buying some mares while theyÂ’re young and breeding to top sires because brood mares that are solid are expensive whereas LB studs are typically cheaper if you have an EWE or EWW and a lot are free with WWWs so thatÂ’s how IÂ’ve saved money go for dirt cheap WW combo mares and build my way up |
than 1 day
before you can use our chatbox.
Rules Hide
You are in: Main Chat
View Sales |
| Year: 186 Season: Winter $: 0 |
Thu 01:11pm CST | | Forecast:  Sunny | |
|
Forums
→ Horse Eden is a fun game! Sign Up Now! ←
| |
|
Caden’s legs felt like lead, dragging him through each drill. His body was moving through the motions, but it wasn’t him in control—it was just automatic. The anxiety had taken root in him today, gnawing at his chest with every movement, every second that passed. His mind was foggy from skipping his meds, and the weight of it felt crushing. Coach Hopkins’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Caden! You’re moving like you’re stuck in cement. What the hell’s going on today?” Caden barely registered the words, his thoughts scattered, but he couldn’t afford to slow down. He just kept pushing, pretending that he wasn’t feeling like he was sinking with every step. His teammates ran past him, and a few glanced at him, but he didn’t dare meet their eyes. His head was already spinning too much as it was. “Caden, focus!” Coach yelled again, his voice harsh. “Stop half-assing it. You’re better than this. We need you, man.” The pressure was suffocating. Caden’s chest tightened, each breath coming a little shorter than the last. His legs felt like they were made of stone, but he forced them to keep moving. He couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when Coach’s voice was bearing down on him like that. His hands fumbled the catch. The ball slipped through his fingers, and the sound of his mistake echoed in his head louder than anything else. “What the hell was that, Ortiz?” Hopkins snapped, walking toward him. “You think you can just coast through this? No one is too good to put in the effort.” Caden’s stomach churned, but he didn’t dare let it show. He could feel his teammates watching, their eyes filled with something he didn’t want to acknowledge. The last thing he needed right now was to look weak in front of them. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “Caden,” Coach’s voice was relentless. “You don’t get to be a star without putting in the work. Don’t come here if you’re just going through the motions. You’re better than this, but not if you keep dragging your feet.” His hands shook as he lined up for the next play. He was barely holding it together, but he wouldn’t stop. Not when everyone was watching. Not when he still had something to prove. The rest of practice blurred together—each play, each drill, each reprimand from Coach—it all merged into one long, exhausting loop. Caden pushed through the motions, but the fog in his mind never lifted. His teammates’ glances never stopped. He felt like an outsider in his own body. Finally, practice ended, and the whistle blew. Caden couldn’t leave fast enough. He gathered his things, avoiding everyone’s eyes, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline. He needed to get out of there. He needed to breathe. He threw his gear into his bag, not bothering to listen to the chatter around him. His teammates were talking, laughing, but it all felt so distant. He couldn’t handle any of it right now. Not today. Not with the way his body felt like it was shutting down on him. He headed to his car, feeling the weight of the day pressing on him. The drive back was a blur, his thoughts spinning in circles, none of it making sense. The moment he walked through the door, he didn’t even think—he just went straight to the bar. The bottle of rum was the first thing his hand reached for. He didn’t care about anything else right now. He poured himself a glass, feeling the burn as it slid down his throat. It was strong, but it was a brief escape. A way to drown out the noise in his head, the relentless tension in his chest. He didn’t feel any better, but for a few seconds, the tightness in his body started to ease. He poured himself another glass. The burn was comforting, in a strange way—an anchor in the chaos. As he sat there in the silence of the house, the weight of the world still sitting heavy on his shoulders, Caden couldn’t help but wonder if it would ever stop. If the pressure, the anxiety, the constant need to keep pushing, would ever let up. He didn't know the answer. All he could do was sit there, sip the rum, and try to push everything out of his mind, just for a little while. |
|  |
| | |
|
Rose finished practice and drove home, waiting for Caden more than anything. Hey. She sent the simple text and sighed, laying down on the couch and slowly drifting off |
|  |
| | |
|
Caden saw the text and didn't respond,just kept drinking and getting cold sweats,again.His shirt clung to his back as did the sleeves,his hair damp across his forehead. |
| |
| | |
|
Rose saw the message hadn't even been on read as she sighed and put the phone aside. She closed her eyes and began to fall asleep |
| |
| | |
|
Hours later, Caden’s vision blurred, the room spinning in a way that wasn’t entirely from the alcohol. He wasn’t even sure how many glasses he'd poured. One after another, until the bottle was nearly empty, and the room around him felt soft, like the edges of reality were starting to melt. But even with the haze setting in, the familiar weight of the anxiety never fully lifted. It was still there, lurking in the background, just beneath the dull fog of alcohol. He leaned back on the couch, the fabric rough against his skin. His mind, though fogged, kept spiraling back to practice. Coach’s voice still cut through the alcohol-induced haze, sharp and accusing, the disappointment in his teammates' eyes—none of it would let him go. It felt like a constant hum in the back of his mind, one that even the rum couldn’t silence. Caden closed his eyes for a moment, hoping to find some peace, but the second his eyelids closed, the weight of everything pressed down harder. His breath caught, shallow and uneven. He could feel the anxiety creeping back in, clawing at his chest, tighter and tighter. The kind of pressure that felt like a crushing weight, squeezing the air from his lungs. He tried to take a deep breath, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped. His phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with a message. He didn’t want to look at it, didn’t want to see any reminders of the world he was trying to escape. But he couldn’t resist. His hand reached out for the device, his fingers unsteady, the cold glass slipping slightly in his grip. It was from Jesse, his teammate. “Yo, you good? Coach was on your ass today. Everyone’s talking.” Caden stared at the message, feeling a strange mix of frustration and fear. It made his throat tighten even more. He was tired of pretending. Tired of keeping up the facade. But even now, he couldn’t bring himself to tell anyone the truth. Not about how broken he felt, how the weight of expectations was suffocating him, how nothing felt right. He typed a quick reply, not really thinking about the words. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He hit send before he could overthink it. He hated himself for it. The lie felt like it was pressing down on him too, heavier than the anxiety or the alcohol. As the minutes dragged by, Caden found himself staring at the empty rum bottle. He should’ve stopped sooner. He knew that. But the dull buzz in his veins made everything feel a little more distant, a little more bearable. For now. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t a solution. It was just a temporary escape. He finally stood up, his legs unsteady. The world tilted slightly, but he managed to walk into the kitchen. He grabbed a glass of water, swallowing it down in an attempt to stop the room from spinning. When he looked in the mirror, his reflection seemed like someone else entirely—a person he didn’t recognize. His eyes were bloodshot, and his skin was pale. He saw the hollow look on his face. The exhaustion. The dread that never quite left. It didn’t matter how much he drank, how many moments he tried to forget—it was still there, lurking, waiting for him to stop running. He ran a hand through his hair, looking at himself for a long moment. The weight of everything—work, practice, expectations, the constant anxiety—was too much to hold on his own. But the thought of asking for help made his chest tighten all over again. He sighed and leaned against the counter, gripping the edge for support. He wasn’t sure what to do. He just knew he couldn’t keep doing this. But he didn’t know how to stop. And for now, all he could do was try to survive the night. |
| |
| | |
|
| | |
|
He fell into a nightmare. Caden’s body felt frozen, stiff—he couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe right. The world around him was dark, the faint sound of dripping water echoing in the distance, like a slow, steady clock ticking down. His eyes darted around, trying to make sense of his surroundings, but all he could see were walls. Grey, cold concrete walls that stretched endlessly in every direction. His hands were bound, wrists burning from the tight ropes cutting into his skin. He struggled against them, but it was useless. His legs felt like lead, too heavy to lift, and his head throbbed with a dull ache. Then, there was a sound—a door creaking open, followed by heavy footsteps approaching him from behind. His heart skipped. A figure appeared in his peripheral vision, tall and looming, but when he turned to face them, it was nothing but a blur. The voice that followed was unmistakable though. “You’ve never been enough, have you?” The voice was familiar—too familiar—cutting through the silence like a razor. It was Coach Hopkins, but his face was distorted, twisted. His features stretched, as though they were melting. His eyes bored into Caden, cold and accusing. “Why do you keep pretending you have it together when we both know the truth?” Caden’s chest tightened, the words pressing down on him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t form a response. He was paralyzed, trapped in this small, suffocating space. “I gave you everything,” Coach spat. “And you threw it all away.” |
| |
| | |
|
Rose woke up a while later. Hello? You okay? |
| |
| | |
|
Suddenly, the world shifted, and Caden found himself standing on the field. The stadium lights above were too bright, blinding him. He squinted against the harsh light, but his body felt weak—like he couldn’t stand on his own. The stands were full, but it wasn’t a crowd cheering for him. The faces in the seats weren’t smiling—they were watching him, staring, eyes full of something dark and cold. Their gazes bore into him, each person silently judging, silently demanding. A whistle blew. Caden’s heart raced as the field seemed to tilt beneath him. He was supposed to move, supposed to do something—anything—but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. His body was frozen, but the pressure of the eyes on him, the weight of their expectations, was suffocating. He could hear whispers among the crowd, the voices distorting into one collective hum. “He’s not ready,” one voice said. “He’ll fail,” another added. “He’ll never be enough,” a third chimed in. Caden wanted to scream, wanted to run, but he couldn’t. His body was too slow, too heavy. And no matter how hard he tried, the ground kept pulling him down, as though the very earth beneath him was swallowing him whole. His feet sunk into the turf, the grip tightening, until it felt like the world itself was dragging him under. |
| |
| | |
|
Rose became worried. Babe? Hello? Caden? |
| |
|
Refresh
|
