Give Me Coffee, and Ye Shall be Spared...

Wormwood has another account? Yeah, well it isn't an obsession until the psychiatrists have to be called in. Here I'm working with a number of breeds; Arabians, Clydesdales and Icelandics to name a few... although the arabs are threatening a hostile take-over lately.

Breeding

Since I'm tired of chasing down foals that have gone astray, all breedings are now private. This means you must be on my trusted breeder's list to get a breeding from or to any of my horses. All the specifications for getting onto that list can be found in my journal. Please ensure you read and meet them before Gming me. If you can't be bothered to read the guidelines, then I'm not going to be bothered responding to you.
And please, NO chatspeak.

Branding

All horses which are the result of my lines will bear an W in front of their name. I will never attempt to take credit for other's hard work by slapping my brand on a horse purchased from someone else's line, and I would appreciate it if you extended me the same courtesy. If you have a horse which was bred by me, please do not remove my brand.
You wouldn't put your name on a painting just because you bought it, would you?

Alternate Accounts

Wormwood's Shetlands - My exclusively shetland account. If you have shetlands, do the breed a favour and don't breed anymore low ranking ponies!
Goblin Gate Stable - My blue ribbon stable! A fantastic prize I won in Kelbeans' x-mas raffle.
Wormwood's Foal & Filler Repository - Just what it sounds like. I also use this account to buy/rescue and retire bad examples of my favourite breeds.

About Wormwood

There some sort of art to these things I'm sure; its just not an art I've mastered yet. If you're reading this, I shall pre-emptively apologize for the dryness.
I don't like biographies, mini or regular sized. I don't look very good fitted into two tidy little paragraphs. That said, I think I'm moving onto the third now.
At the moment I'm a freelance (ie. starving) illustrator working from home. I live with my fiance Celorn in Toronto, a city I'm dying to struggle free from. I crave the outdoors, the country, open spaces with sparse population density. Ideally I'd like to be a pseudo-hermit and live under a thatched roof in a stone cottage on Manitoulin island and be entirely self sufficient. For now, I settle for being a skinny, loud, kooky striped hyena who stashes road kill in the back yard (much to the neighbours chagrin) and makes windchimes from the bones. I exist amid a menagerie of misfit critters whom I love dearly.
I draw to excess, collect pretty stones, feathers and sticks, and make bread as often as possible. Store bread is like baked glue; bleh.