Post by blythe on Jan 23, 2008 17:18:39 GMT -5
Sunlight draped over the field, blanketing the fences and footing with radiance. The lush green blades undertoe were compressed suddenly, an obsidian talon merging with the similar emerald grass. The steed above passed the point, pedestal sifting under his bay bodice framed with muscle. Chocolate pelt rolled over the strength supported by vigorous training and Holsteiner blood. His rider looked foreward, emerald chasms glinting as the sunlight drifted over her figure. The pair picked up a light, mellow trot as the rider touched her horses strong barrel with the knob of her spur, sterling silver throwing the light as it moved.
The movement was elegant, persice. The movement that came to a dressage horse. Collected, proud. The knob touched the mocha side again, reins sifted between gloved fingers, and the beast struck the earth with earthshaking force. His right fore broke the surface of the ground, spilling moist soil behind him. Opposite hind struck after, bodice spilling foreward as he moved into the next phase, opposite pairs firing him from the earth. He finished the canter stride and moved off his riders leg to the right, easily shifting his center of balance toward a low coop.
The planks were immobile, a mistake was fatal. But the large Holsteiner cleared it with ease, knees evenly pulled up and locked together, forearms tight beneath them. Hindquarters ripe with power exploded from the ground beneath, the coop passing beneath the pair. He landed with a canter, repeating the rythmic sequence of footfalls as he allowed himself to be guided to a ditch brush combo, another simple equation. Wrapping himself tightly he extended over the obstacle, uncoiling himself with ease. Atop his powerful back, Blythe dropped her arms, connecting herself to his curb with an automatic release, resulting in a sharp turn to a bench.
And so the patten continued, powerful equine allowed walk break every few jumps. Chest heaved as he gulped in breath, nape lathered in a foamy mix. So was the life of an event horse. The rigorous training a routine to him. In a few moments he would catch his breath, more than eager to throw in a few more jumps to end the day. Besides, Blythe had her eye on the corner jump, a difficult challange she was more than willing to try.