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Description
Extra for: Moving Forward | Zabeel Mile
Featuring: HRA Group Horse: Machiavelli

Trying to just experiment with style and working without a reference. Not sure how it worked but I'm pleased with the expressions.

Story: 678 wordsIf I’m completely honest with myself….I hate flying. I really do. It’s loud, it’s dark, it’s long, and I feel like every bump in my stall is going to lead to my death. I’m not usually such a nervous horse, I just don’t trust these metal monsters whatsoever.

What’s even worse is when the thing finally lands. All the noise and the cars and the horses and that godforsaken beeping. Have humans gone deaf, or do they just like repetitive, sharp noises so much they put it on every vehicle within the airport?

My groom takes me to the trailer, where I can at least get some peace and quiet. I am thankful for the hay, though I do not eat it. I don’t like eating while I travel. I do manage to nap, however.

That night, as I settle into my new temporary stall, I find myself excited. From what little I can see from the quarantine area, this track is outstanding. Much nicer than those I raced in America. The stalls are just as pristine. I wonder what the future has in store for me, if I am to race at this kind of track.

Now, many days after my arrival, I can finally stretch my legs. My Angel Human is on my back, and we are trotting through the grass. He just wants me to get a feel for it right now. And boy am I doing just that. The grass so squishy—soft! I will have no problems gripping it come race day.

Just then, I hear some commotion behind me. I tense, ready for something dangerous, but then I see what it is. A dark gelding is trotting past, though I wouldn’t call it trotting. More like flinging his hooves wherever and hoping they come back to the ground. He had no direction, and no cares at all what his human was asking him to do. He seemed quite proud of that fact.

He shuffled past me awkward as before. I roll my eyes. Was I to compete against this bay? Bring it on. At least I knew the importance of training. At least I had the mature to act with composure. And at least I didn’t disrespect my humans.

Amateur.

A week later, and it is time for the serious workout. I am not at all pleased to see Mr. Can’tfigureouthishooves warming up next to me. But, I have no say in the matter. If the humans think I need the practice, I will practice. But there is no way in hell I’m going to lose to him.

I start off in front, as always. I keep a close ear on the stupid bay, though, waiting for the command from My Angel Human. I soon feel the bay coming up behind me. My Angel Human still hesitates. I increase my speed slightly anyway. My Angel Human tugs harder.

Does he want me to lose? Perhaps just get a close nose in front. I didn’t like it, but I listened. I was obedient, unlike someone.

Finally, My Angel Human lets me go. I stretch my legs as far as they will go. I try not to go all out, but I do use full motion of my legs. The ground is a blur underneath me as I speed toward the finish-line. The bay is no longer getting closer. I continue the pace, crossing the finish line a good length ahead of him.

We gallop out. I slow down to a trot when I’m ready. I hear My Angel Human chuckle to himself.

“Never knew you to be so keen so early, girl,” My Angel Human said. “That was brilliant, but I hope you didn’t spend all your energy.” I snort. As if. I wouldn’t waste anything on that stupid bay, who is now huffing and puffing a few lengths in front of me.

That’s what you get for not training seriously, I think with a swish of my tail, and then I let My Angel Human trot me back in the opposite direction.

Description
Extra for: Moving Forward | Zabeel Mile
Featuring: HRA Group Horse: Machiavelli

Trying to just experiment with style and working without a reference. Not sure how it worked but I'm pleased with the expressions.

Story: 678 wordsIf I’m completely honest with myself….I hate flying. I really do. It’s loud, it’s dark, it’s long, and I feel like every bump in my stall is going to lead to my death. I’m not usually such a nervous horse, I just don’t trust these metal monsters whatsoever.

What’s even worse is when the thing finally lands. All the noise and the cars and the horses and that godforsaken beeping. Have humans gone deaf, or do they just like repetitive, sharp noises so much they put it on every vehicle within the airport?

My groom takes me to the trailer, where I can at least get some peace and quiet. I am thankful for the hay, though I do not eat it. I don’t like eating while I travel. I do manage to nap, however.

That night, as I settle into my new temporary stall, I find myself excited. From what little I can see from the quarantine area, this track is outstanding. Much nicer than those I raced in America. The stalls are just as pristine. I wonder what the future has in store for me, if I am to race at this kind of track.

Now, many days after my arrival, I can finally stretch my legs. My Angel Human is on my back, and we are trotting through the grass. He just wants me to get a feel for it right now. And boy am I doing just that. The grass so squishy—soft! I will have no problems gripping it come race day.

Just then, I hear some commotion behind me. I tense, ready for something dangerous, but then I see what it is. A dark gelding is trotting past, though I wouldn’t call it trotting. More like flinging his hooves wherever and hoping they come back to the ground. He had no direction, and no cares at all what his human was asking him to do. He seemed quite proud of that fact.

He shuffled past me awkward as before. I roll my eyes. Was I to compete against this bay? Bring it on. At least I knew the importance of training. At least I had the mature to act with composure. And at least I didn’t disrespect my humans.

Amateur.

A week later, and it is time for the serious workout. I am not at all pleased to see Mr. Can’tfigureouthishooves warming up next to me. But, I have no say in the matter. If the humans think I need the practice, I will practice. But there is no way in hell I’m going to lose to him.

I start off in front, as always. I keep a close ear on the stupid bay, though, waiting for the command from My Angel Human. I soon feel the bay coming up behind me. My Angel Human still hesitates. I increase my speed slightly anyway. My Angel Human tugs harder.

Does he want me to lose? Perhaps just get a close nose in front. I didn’t like it, but I listened. I was obedient, unlike someone.

Finally, My Angel Human lets me go. I stretch my legs as far as they will go. I try not to go all out, but I do use full motion of my legs. The ground is a blur underneath me as I speed toward the finish-line. The bay is no longer getting closer. I continue the pace, crossing the finish line a good length ahead of him.

We gallop out. I slow down to a trot when I’m ready. I hear My Angel Human chuckle to himself.

“Never knew you to be so keen so early, girl,” My Angel Human said. “That was brilliant, but I hope you didn’t spend all your energy.” I snort. As if. I wouldn’t waste anything on that stupid bay, who is now huffing and puffing a few lengths in front of me.

That’s what you get for not training seriously, I think with a swish of my tail, and then I let My Angel Human trot me back in the opposite direction.