Username;; ♔Voltaire♔
Show Name: Through the Fire and Flames
Barn Name: Corr
Gender: Stallion
Age: 9
Height: 17.2hh
Halter: (#F7E7CE) with silver buckles <3
Discipline: Horseback Security
Competition:Adrenaline is a finicky thing.
It's an addictive poison, something you crave once you taste it for the first time, something you hate feeling fade. It comes in waves or hits you all at once. There are times you can feel the rush as soon as it begins, and times where you don't even realize until the excitement is over, feeling the ebb and flow of it's tides flush through your veins. It's a lovely thing, adrenaline, and even now that I am retired I feel it when I look out onto the pier at night.
My first taste of true adrenaline was getting out onto the racetrack for the first time. My first race wasn't my finest hour of course, but I was hung up on the sweet taste of blood rush that I couldn't wait to get back out there and start winning. It was the adrenaline you would get going on a rollercoaster, the sweet serendipity of surprise and anxiety to start moving, and once it's over you hear your heartbeat go at a mile a minute. All you can think of is, "Let's do it again." My racing career ended as any career does, and I was given to the military for overseas missions, and once I was overseas I was hit with a totally different feeling of adrenaline. Not knowing what was going to happen next, wondering if you'd come home alive. Adrenaline with the origin of fear. The adrenaline that was now or never and do or die. I went from wanting the rush with my whole heart to desperately clinging to it, needing it, praying for it with my entire being. Crazy how wants can become a necessity when your world falls apart around you.
I have long since retired to a cute little place called Sonata Stables, but still, I belong in the hands of the military every night. I patrol now, and my rider is a spunky little thing but he knows how to get the job done. There is no rush, no need for the excitement I crave, but I cannot help but get a bit excited when we catch a member or trespasser on base doing something suspicious or out of line. There are no high-speed chases, no worrying about racing to a finish. It's walking and listening, seeing and experiencing. It's slow and deliberate and I hate it... But then there's the pier.
The base is right across from a bustling city, the only thing separating us from the fast life being a slow lulling river. It's enthralling, the lights as they reflect on the dark water and how it distorts our reality. Every night after our shift, my rider takes me to the pier, where she cracks a cold one and looks longingly off into the tall buildings, and I cannot help but understand. I grew up in the country, where racetracks were made in our cornfields and plowed with farm equipment. Racing gave me my poison, but now? How I long for the lights of the fast life, for it's the pace and its unrelenting energy.
That's where I am now, standing along the pier with my rider, my heart calling out to the lights across the way and I cannot help but wish I could reach them.
Adrenaline. Something I cannot and will not ever be able to get enough of. Something that's a part of me, what fills me.
And at the same time it's what eats at me the most.
