There was something special about those quiet moments right before competition. A calm before the storm, it seemed.
Comfortable astride one of Amethyst Ridge's gentle giants, a massive Euphorian stallion named Sirius, Abigail surveyed the course ahead of her with a keen eye. She watched the blood bay before them taking the course head on, watching carefully as the mare almost knocked a rail on one of the many sharp turns. That would be a difficult jump, she noted; Sirius' height gave him an advantage, but it also meant tighter rotations were more difficult... She'd have to watch out for that oxer, too, as his strides here larger than that of other horses, Euphorians included. In his time, he'd been one hell of a racer, back when his coat was still a star-dappled bay, blurring the racetrack lengths ahead of even the fastest competitors. Reaching forward to stroke his neck absent-mindedly, she knew the stallion must miss those days terribly. She still let him loose every so often, just to get a taste of the adrenaline his jockey might have felt those few short years ago.
If not for the slow, steady breathing of the stallion underneath her, or the tiny shift in his stance as he watched the overo mare finish her run, Abigail might have swore she was sitting on a statue. The young woman didn't know how he stayed so still, so controlled; his confidence and calm was tangible, and even though she had ridden long before she was even able to walk, those hours leading up to a show were usually the most nerve-wracking, anxiety-ridden (pun intended) minutes of her life. Regardless of her mount's as well as her own skill and ability, competition always made her nervous, but there was something about Sirius that just put her at ease without fail. As if sensing her racing heart, Sirius looked back at her with reassuring chocolate eyes, turning his massive head back ever so slightly. Abigail looked down and smiled softly, her shoulders and posture relaxing instantly, and she let the reins rest loose. She pet his neck again, a silent thank you, as she heard the buzzer signal the end of the Euphorian mare's run. As they came off the pasture, Abigail looked up to smile at the blonde rider as they passed. "Great run," she complimented, then turned back to the open gate. Course reset, and it was their turn.
All it took was a shift of her seat for Sirius to step forward, easily moving from a walk into a floating trot, then an easy canter; even for a horse of his size, it felt like he was gliding over the ground. She fell into his rhythm easily, making a wide circle around the pasture to size up each jump. She'd already walked the course, but this was his first time seeing it all. Still, he seemed no more worried than before, and it seemed too soon that they came around to the beginning of the course. There was a soft beep, and time started to run; with no prompt other than one more shift in her position, Sirius' focus sharpened and he beelined for the first jump. Even running with such speed, there was an unshakable sense of control, and Abigail relished in it. He never felt wild or reckless, but moved with an extreme sense of urgency and purpose. It was absolutely exhilarating.
The first jump was a roller coaster, the second a simple bound; his long legs made it seem so effortless, despite the jump's height. Each leap felt like they would just simply take off into the air like one of Amethyst Ridge's winged equines, the ones she was nowhere near brave enough to ride. Another jump pulled her from her brief reverie and she leaned ever so slightly, modifying Sirius' path the tiniest bit to set up for the next jump. Everything was so minor when it came to riding him, and it brought Abigail so much joy to ride a stallion that's so easy to work with.
[ 700 words ]
