A horse trailer rumbles up the gravel drive, kicking up a cloud of dirt. It's battered, covered in dried mud from what must have been a long journey.

The trailer door swings open with a groan.

A pale horse emerges—greenish-white, with a wild, tangled mane of red and green streaked through with white. His coat is scarred in places, muscle rippling under a hide that's seen more racetracks than grooming stalls. One eye is a startling human-like green, the other a pale, unsettling blue.

He doesn't rear. Doesn't snort. Just stands there, taking in the manicured perfection of Wayne Farm with a look that borders on amusement.