Post by creativecause on Feb 24, 2014 22:58:35 GMT -5
The Fleeting Maiden
(I know it sucks, 
school has sucked all creative juices that I have left in me and its only Monday...)
Fleeting.
A word to describe the little steel gray filly. The little one that jumped around in the early morning sun eager to start working. Little she may be, but where she lacked in size she made up in heart, a small tap of the heel and she was off.
A steady pace throughout the first few furlongs, that’s all she would need. Her small well shaped head bobbed up in down, nostrils flared, tail flowing behind her. She looked near perfect, kicking up turf behind her with her ears perked in the air listening for any possible command. She was perfectly content to be working.
She had sprinter written all over her, heck there might as well have been a sign above her as she galloped. Her muscles seemed to work together in such harmony. You would never know by looking at her that she was a maiden, she was very relaxed and looked like any well seasoned race horse.
Approaching the stretch, her exercise rider loosened the reins and the acceleration was almost instant. Bey lengthened her stride, and off she went. Like a silver bullet fired from a gun, turf flew in all directions behind her. With each stride she took she gained more ground, faster and faster all the way down to the wire.
There was no doubt in anyones mind that this mare was ready, and she was going to fight right until the end.