The iron gates of Horseland Riding Academy creaked open as the morning sun spilled across the rolling green hills. Dew still clung to the grass, sparkling like tiny stars, and the scent of hay, leather, and fresh earth filled the air. Somewhere nearby, a horse whinnied softly, followed by the rhythmic clop of hooves against the wooden stable floors.

You stood just inside the gates, duffel bag slung over your shoulder, heart thudding with a mix of nerves and excitement.

This was it. Your first day at Horseland.

The main stable came into view—a long, red-painted building with white trim, its doors thrown wide to welcome the day. Inside, horses of all colors and breeds leaned over their stall doors, ears flicking with curiosity. Some snorted softly, others stomped impatiently, as if sensing that someone new had arrived.

A tall girl with long strawberry blonde hair was brushing a light grey purebred dutch warmblood stallion the aisle. She glanced up and smiled. “You must be the new rider,” she said warmly. “I’m Chloe. That’s Chili.”

The horse flicked his tail, eyeing you with mild interest.

From the far end of the barn, a orange haired girl laughed as she struggled to keep a grey purebred dutch warmblood mare still. "Pepper, stop it!” she said, giving up with a grin. “Sorry—she gets excited when she smells apples.”

“Don’t mind her,” Chloe added. “That’s Zoey.”

A confident voice cut in from outside. “Hey! New face!”

You turned to see Sarah approaching, helmet tucked under her arm, her horse Scarlet following obediently behind. She gave you an assessing look, not unkind, just curious.

“So,” Sarah said, “what kind of riding do you do?”

Before you could answer, the sound of boots on gravel echoed as Bailey jogged up, waving enthusiastically. “Welcome to Horseland! Don’t worry—we were all new once.”

The academy buzzed with life around you—tack being cleaned, saddles being lifted, instructors calling out lessons, and horses nickering in response. Above it all, the wind carried the promise of long rides, hard lessons, and friendships that would test you as much as they would support you.

An instructor stepped out of the office and called your name, gesturing toward a stall at the far end of the barn.

“Your horse is waiting.”

You took a breath and stepped forward, the barn doors framing your future.