MY ENEMIES ARE PLOTTING [part 2] IP: 22.214.171.124 Posted on May 31, 2011 at 11:30:52 PM by Otep.
At the sight of the first, lower jump in the forest, Otep picked up her pace to a brisk canter after she had gauged an estimate on the amount of strides that would allow her a safe take-off, as well as landing. About a stride from the knee-height obstacle, she pulled up her forelegs and jumped the fallen log over it's highest point with relative ease. The Mustang in her was use to rugged, wild terrain; no knee-high log was going to stop her.
After the jump, Otep took a few more strides at a canter before slowing to her trot again - moving slowly between the jumps would allow her to bolt at the obstacle when the time came with increased force and focus. Even if the Mustang in her was used to rough wilderness, only the Anglo-Arabian in her was used to jumping in such a competitive manner. So when the second fallen pine marked by Hakeem's flower came into view, Otep snorted and breathed hard, cantering at the jump. A stride away again, Otep collected herself on her hindquarters and leapt over, drawing her forehooves close to her chest. The shoulder-height obstacle was the peak of her abilities, and she landed hard with a sharp exhale. She kept up the canter though, for she noted the next fallen pine in the distance and knew it would take all of her effort.
A stride away though, the blood bay was too tired, her legs aching too much, and her will not in the action to try to take the fallen pine at it's highest point. She sidled off to the side of it, avoiding the obstacle entirely, slowing to her previous trot when she passed it. She breathed hard, shaking her head in disappointment at herself. What else was she to do, though? She knew her limits and wasn't about to test them. The mud was slipping from her fur, for new sweat was soaking her skin and cleaning the mud from it. Her mane clung wet and sticky to the crest of her neck, and her dirtied mare half-hugged her hindlegs. It had been a trying course.
The trees began to thin, and the Chamber's pine forest opened up into a vast, flat field with only the occasional low-hanging tree dotting the gopher-infested landscape. At her steady trot emerging on the scene, her dark eyes quickly searched for the areas not riddled with holes, planning out a winding path for her to take as fast as she could. This was what she had been saving her energy for - this final push, this fast gallop. She arched her neck and took one more heavy, breathy sigh before slowly picking up speed - trot turned into canter, and by the time she passed her first set of gopher holes without problem, she had opened her stride into a gallop.
The gopher-holes did not hinder her; her path had given her success, and she opened and closed her stride as nessecary to avoid those holes that she had not accounted for previous. The few trees that she also passed skimmed the curve of her neck and scratched painfully along the dip of her back, but she lowered her head and pulled it to her chest in order to protect her face from the stinging branches.
And then finally, the final flower, and the blood bay found herself back at the Falls' central watering hole. Not breaking her gallop, Otep moved straight towards the water's edge, stopping awkwardly and hastily to lower her muzzle to drink greedily of the cool water. It burned her throat, but felt good in the pit of her stomach. Between long sips, she breathed rapidly, finally dropping to her knees and curling up on the ground to let her body rest. She let out a weak nicker to signify that she had finished the course before resting her head on the ground. Rest, you earned it, she reminded herself, and didn't feel any guilt for not having done better. She gave the course her all. Replies: