Here[WE]go.

[xx Sustain xx]

The gentle sound of boots skidding over scarce grass was ear triggering. A stallion, layered in a mass of rugs raised his head. His eyes large and round, holding a curious yet fiery emotion trapped within them. Many people described this as a flame. This was more of a spark, a swift and sudden snap that seemed to jump out at you everynow and then. Making the average horse admirer smile. His yard was rather worn, the floor of his paddock was pulled away, a dirt track lining the fence. Showing where he had been pacing. The mares a few yards away where highly tempting. His nairs flaired, a cloud of condensation pooled around him. The grass was tipped with frost, a thin layer of ice that made the pastures look like a sea of mottled white.

- - -

Shod hooves echoed over cement flooring of the stable block, untill it was suddenly soothed by the simple touch of grass. Now only the crunching of a rare leaf or small twig could heard, along with the breathing of the mighty horse pacing onwards. His strides where large, he pranced sadeways, his head held in his chest, nairs expanding then returning to their natural position. This, my dear, was a powerful thing. He had the ability to break bones, this flighty yet loveable thoroughbred. But he woulden't. No, not this boy, he accepted the company of people, infact he liked their pressence. Something to touch and get close to I suppose. Seeing he coulden't make contact with the other horses, being a stallion and all.

When he was on the track, he still kept that gentleman sense, he wasen't highly aggresive to others, but laid back, not at all worried to be in a croud. But when he ran...oh he loved it. You could just see it in the power of his strides that he was trying to make you happy. Give you all hes got. He did it for himself too, he bathed in his own glory. He had always been a hero. Well, lets see shall we? Once on the track, Nick lowered the irons as low as possible, it was hard for somebody so small to climb atop something so big. Once on the bay stallion he shifted in the jockey pad, then pulled the other iron back up. "Ready to run, Hero?" he adjusted the reins. The stallion grew anxiouse at the long stretch ahead of them. But the track wasen't daunting to him, he wanted to show it what he had.

The stallion was allowed to trot, his stride swift, bouncy. He side paced, dancing over the dirt track. Dust kicking up behind him, clouds rising around his bulky body. His muscles pulled and flexed, his forelock bouncing to one side of his eye. He wanted to go, he wanted to run. With the slightest release to the reins, Hero burst forawrds at a fast canter, but Nick held him steady, slowing him down and warming him up. Pulling a muscle was the last thing an active racer needed. The bay stallion tugged at the bit, it rattled against his teeth, he played with it more, entertaining himself, his ears flicked from side to side. Nick soon allowed him to canter at his own pace. The stallion imediantly accepted the offer and picked up speed.

It didn't take long before the seasoned stallion was galloping. His hooves drumming, a tune that raced through his jockeys ears, causing your mind to bubble in confusion, but her stomach throb with excitement. Any person that felt this knew how amazing and powerful it really was. Although at age four and coming to the end of his racing career, the stallion was no less enthusiastic as a younger horse in the start of his career. His strides where still full of energy, his eyes showed his passion his need to please, his lust to run. I cant say hes a typical thoroughbred, but hes everything a racer has to be. His stride full of impulsion, his heart longing to plesae, but the fiery and loyal spirit that most thorougthbreds obtained. He was a true thoroughbred. He was created to run. In his presence you could see it, feel it, you where simply breathing it. How much better could it get?