Disclaimer:Wow, it's been a long timesince I've had to put a disclaimer at the beginning of my work.How do these things go again? The words sound so awkward. How about...I do not own the characters and do not intend to profit from themin any recognizable way. I mean at all! I do not intend to profit from them in any way, shape or form becausethey belong exclusively to Saban and possibly now ABC Family and/or other companies. This is purely for my own personal enjoyment.

Author's Notes: I always did love the characters a hundred times more than the actual premise of the show. This story started out trying to be an original with borrowed characters in mind, but a twist halfway through both gave it a title and brought it sharply back to the fan fiction realm. Nevertheless, it is set somewhere in the future, with lots of pets mentioned in great detail, and comparatively little tying it back to the show whose name I still can't seem to write. Anyway, I wrote the first draft in 1999-2000, put it aside, and came back to begin revising itFeb. 2006.Let's see if my writing has matured at all…

Trinity of Avians

Pale summer sun filtered through the window and onto Kim Hart's honey brown hair. The young woman lying in bed blinked sleepily and looked at the clock, grimacing at the glowing green digits spelling out 6:01. The sharp yap of her little terrier woke her further.

"All right, Wiley, I'm coming," she called to her black and white Jack Russel.

This time of morning was chilly no matter what the season, so it was with some reluctance that she shifted the duvet cover off her body. Lightly tanned calves and bare feet complemented the oversized T-shirt and cloth boxer shorts she slept in.

Reaching her bathroom, Kim splashed some cold water over her face and brushed her hair into a wispy bun at the nape of her neck. The dog whined and stood on his hind legs, waving his paws, drawing her attention away from her own reflection and back to him.

"Fine, I'll get you your food NOW, just because you know so many darn cute tricks," she smiled. Wiley perked his ears up and followed her into the kitchen. Betsy, a lanky brown hound mix stood and stretched in a bow while Jessa, her piebald rescued Greyhound, lifted her head from the floor and yawned.

Kim gave the dogs their food and began making her morning tea while they crunched noisily on the kibbles. She moved automatically through the cozy, homey kitchen, her hands lovingly tracing the ornamental woodwork on the edge of one cupboard. She had lived here only a few years, but it felt like forever. Since deciding to retire from competitive gymnastics, she had moved out here to central Minnesota, where she and her family had lived when she was little. She had purchased the small country home, too small for a proper title but nevertheless unofficially dubbed Deepdale, in order to realize her childhood dream of keeping horses again. Though a long way from the sunny states she had lived in for most of her life, it felt, oddly enough, the most like home.

The kettle's mild shriek startled her from her reverie, and she got up to finish preparations. Carrying the hot beverage in her favorite glazed-clay mug, she went to sit in the large bay window in the living room, gazing out at her land. In the uncultivated meadow on the other side of the driveway, a pair of cottontail rabbits were delicately cropping the grass, beady black eyes on constant lookout while jaws worked furiously to chew and swallow the material. A black crow cawed raucously somewhere out of sight, and a car drove past on the lonely country road.

Watching the pastoral scene, Kim felt suddenly compelled to capture the beauty in a painting. Crossing the room to her artistic corner, she pulled out her easel and watercolors. She began to dab a spread of green across the bottom – just as Ned rolled off the arm of a nearby chair and lovingly brushed against the paper.

"Ned Kelly!" she cried, plucking the longhaired black cat off her lap and depositing him onto the floor. "You've got paint all over your fur and my pants, and left cat hairs all over my paper. You do know you are an absolutely worthless creature, do you not?" Still, she smiled as she scolded. She wasn't really angry, and had to let the horses out anyway. Fully aware of this, the laid-back Ned purred as she brought him back to the kitchen for a damp towel to clean him off.

Once finished, after setting her half-empty mug on the counter, she opened the door for the dogs and let them gambol alongside her as she went around the curving path that led to the stable, the corner of which was only just visible from the house through a shield of trees. This teasing view opened up into a magnificent entrance. The barn was older than the house, which had been built within the past decade, but its rustic look only made it more impressive. It was a classic double-door red barn, complete with hayloft, and crossbar windows on the front kept scrupulously free of cobwebs. Though her usual riding area was confined to rolling fields, the barn itself was framed by a lovely stand of trees, pine and hardwoods, a picturesque path winding into them.

Inside were ten stalls, five on either side of the center aisle, with the back of the barn reserved as space for tack, brushes, and other assorted horse paraphernalia, including the plastic containers used to store grain and feed supplements. It was one of the latter that she wheeled out to the center aisle, to distribute the equine breakfasts.

Fireside Shanty, a dark bay Morgan, whinnied a greeting from the first stall on the left. She called him by name, wheeling the grain tub over the center of the aisle. Over the open door, she poured half a scoop into the dish attached to his door. He stood patiently in place, graciously waiting for her to invite him to eat. His manners were impeccable, she thought, nudging him forward. Though pedigreed and registered, a club foot had made him less desirable in the show ring, and his price had been ridiculously low. She couldn't have asked for a better first horse.

"You really are my favorite, beautiful boy, aren't you?" she crooned, stroking his glossy neck. He snorted and blew into her ear. With some reluctance, promising to come back in a bit, she moved on to the next stall and smiled fondly at the small, plump brown pony within. Buddy was so short he could only get the tip of his nose to reach the top of the Dutch door, but this never stopped him from trying to greet visitors. Pretending not to notice the gray on his face – he was older than she was – she smiled fondly at the early memories of "Butty," as he had caused her considerable amounts of grief at her first riding lesson.

Riding had gone out the door when she discovered gymnastics, and Buddy sold. During her search for Fireside, 15 years later, she had bought him back to let him retire gracefully, and never regretted it for a moment. She still blessed the streak of luck that had let her find him for sale, before he went to auction and most probably slaughter.

Her thoughts were interrupted by his impatient stomp – he might have outgrown some of his younger, wilder tendencies, but not his enormous appetite.

"Somehow, I doubt the likelihood of your starving to death," she informed him, poking his rotund sides. In response, he bobbed his head and eyed her. Laughing, she fed him too – fighting, as usual, his attempts to inhale the golden kernels as they fell like drops of water from a fountain - before continuing to the middle stall to stroke a third velvety nose. The tall red chestnut Thoroughbred gelding within snorted, eyes wide, and jerked back.

"Stop it, Flame," she said, annoyed with the youngest of her horses. Strictly speaking, he wasn't hers – he was on indefinite loan from a friend who had lost her job and thus the means to care for him, and had begged Kim to take him in for a while. Kim had agreed, despite his spooky antics, chief among them trying to batter his stall door to pieces every time he heard coyotes howling.

The two mares, palomino Lady Delilah and jet-black Darka, both began to stamp their feet impatiently. The former belonged to a college professor whose work had taken him out of the country for a six-month sabbatical, and Kim had been happy to board the lanky, long-bodied mare on her land. A slim-legged, silk-maned creature, Darka was Fireside's sister, the sight of whom had enthralled Kim at her first visit. As she was not for sale, Kim had taken the gelding, but she was unable to forget the beautiful black creature, and found an excuse to return and make an offer. She reasoned that it would be nice to have a second reliable horse for friends to ride, and after all, the two horses were remarkably close.

"I don't know how I do it every day, feeding all you greedy animals," she marveled as she tidied the shelves and swept the aisle free of spilled feed and bedding. An indignant squall at her feet interrupted her. Startled, she jumped away from the sound only to realize she had swept a pile of straw over Gibbs, her other cat, gray and white in color. Apologizing for having left the house without refilling the cat dishes, she picked him up and cuddled him.

"Soon as I turn out the horses, I'll bring you breakfast," she promised, kissing the soft forehead. Sometimes he liked to be carried around, but he also tended to be a bit moody, and today he struggled in protest until she put him down again. He shook himself and stalked back out the open door.

Ignoring his sulk, she reached for Fireside's halter and lead rope, noting that his grain had disappeared, and led him out to the large pasture, returning for each horse in kind until all were out enjoying the sunshine.

She had only just finished feeding the cats when the phone rang. Setting down the last refilled water dish, she went over to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Can I come over and ride Buddy?" a girl's voice asked. "I know it's early but I have to go to day-camp all day and I remember you saying you always got up early and…" The words tumbled out in a rush of breathless anticipation; Kim smiled at the nervousness in her tone.

The caller was Michelle Amera, the eight-year-old-girl across the road. Completely obsessed with ponies, she and her family were relatively new to the neighborhood. Her mother had called upon Kim once for a babysitting emergency, but Michelle had taken such pleasure showing off her equine collection that Kim, equally enthralled by her young charge's combination of enthusiasm and maturity, had offered to give her riding lessons, free of charge. The lessons had somewhat fallen by the wayside, but they had struck up a friendship, with the girl coming over to visit Buddy rather frequently. Mindful of his age, Kim only let her ride once or twice a week, but this bit of exercise kept him healthy and in good condition.

"Sure," she agreed. "Just let me talk to your mom for a second and we'll call it good." In her excitement the girl forgot to say goodbye, hanging up the phone with a clatter. Kim jumped a little at the harsh sound in her ear, and then headed out to meet her by the barn.