push it to the limit.

[azule]

push it to the limit

The two year old colt tossed his head with bright animation, his warm eyes wide as he pranced beside Logan’s small figure. This was the first time Logan had ridden the colt, as he was her newest purchase. He certainly held a lot of potential for being a serious contender in some of the New Year’s races, but she had to start somewhere. So, she'd entered Flash in the Gurren Lagann Derby - specifically, the second race on the card. Her colt would run a mile and a quarter on the dirt, so she might as well run that distance today. It felt completely different to be on a hot-tempered colt; before, her barn was filled with just Made in Manhattan and Stolen Kisses, two fillies. Although, Logan imagined with a grin, Flash was similar to Mini, as they both were fiery and always wanting to run. Brought back into reality, Logan brought Flash to a halt and spoke quietly to the colt, steadying herself before climbing aboard. Instantly, Flash jumped forward into a long, rather uncomfortable trot before his rider even had her second stirrup. Not one to become angry at the two year old, Logan drew in the reins and stroked Flash's neck easily, speaking to the solid black horse. "Whoa up now boy." Logan explained softly, pleased when Flash slowed to a high stepping walk after a few extra strides.

Flash held his head up high, eyeing the brand new scenery with a prying curiosity. Logan pushed her shoulders back and gently steered Flash toward the dirt track, which had just been harrowed earlier that morning. The colt didn’t seem too phased by the change of footing, but he arched his neck and grew heavy in Logan’s gloved hands, pulling and trying to jump forward. Logan knew that she’d have to be brief – better to get the workout done and over with without it being hazardous for the colt rather than drag it out and try to make the colt act perfect. The rider pursed her lips together and lifted the reins, setting her elbows higher so they would give less to Flash when he tried to wring his head around. A few strides later, she clucked to the colt and adjusted her body to stay with Flash when he leapt forward into a springing gait. Once he was situated, Flash was actually a pleasure to ride, but his immature mind – Logan had to laugh at that – would leave his attention to stray to something else on the track. The colt was slightly jittery, bobbing his head and snorting, mockly spooking when his gangly figure strutted over an area of track where sunlight streamed through the tree tops in the distance. He leapt into a canter, and although Logan wasn't pleased that he'd decided to run, his canter was smooth, and he'd gotten the correct lead, so she stood in her stirrups. She absorbed Flash's stride with her knees and ankles, then sat back and asked the colt to slow. He did so willingly, breaking into a trot.

After they'd made nearly half a circuit around the mile long track, Logan believed that Flash felt moderately calm. His head had stretched out and he had produced a light green foam in the corners of his mouth, so she pressed her inside leg against the colt's black barrel, her right leg swinging back to press behind the girth. This time, Flash kept up a bright trot and at Logan's request, he jumped into a relaxed canter, his inky black tail streaming out behind his warm body. Logan felt right at home on the colt, perched over his back as his strides lengthened. He covered more ground, and the rail began to bend to the left; Surprisingly, Flash seemed to realize that he needed to stay close to the rail, but didn't crowd it or run Logan's leg into it. Logan's eyes lifted to the furlong poles on the rail, quickly studying them and nodding to herself. They'd covered about six furlongs at a slow canter, so once they straightened out, she could gallop the last four furlongs. She bent her knees, falling in closer to Flash's dark withers and clucked slightly, keeping her right leg back to support the colt as they finished rounding the rail. As soon as Flash emerged from backstretch, Logan clucked to him, hands clinging to locks of his mane and giving him some slack. The colt stretched his head out, kicking out his back legs in an exubrient buck as he launched his gangly body forward. He was galloping strongly, keeping a constant tug on the reins - he wanted to go faster. But Logan gritted her teeth together slightly and she kept her grip.

The colt kept fighting her through the first furlong. He tried to wrench his head down in order to pull the reins through Logan's hand, which Logan replied to by clucking and flagging the whip in her right hand out, just to warn Flash that she had it. When he seemed to settle, the rider pressed her lips together and made a smooching noise, her hands sliding up the black horse's neck. He surged ahead, his inky locks twisting in the wind, her brunette locks whipping around in a frenzy. "Easy, easy," Logan began when Flash trailed out to the right. She switched her whip hands and tapped the whip on Flash's right shoulder, asking the horse to change to his right lead, which the colt did - it was a rather sloppy change, but he did it. She was cool aboard Flash, legs firm on his warm hide. His coat was sleek, and she could tell that he was beginning to show signs of slight fatigue. His nostrils flared out, inhaling crisp air into his lungs in order to churn out faster strides. Logan didn't push him, instead letting the colt pick his way at a brisk pace. Together, the pair calmly galloped past the wire, and Flash slowed almost instantly - Logan could hear his breathing now, but Flash still appeared to be alert, his head raised. She allowed him to canter out for a few more strides, then sat back into the saddle, stroking his neck. "There you go, good man." Lips curved in a smile, the young girl drawing in the reins and bringing her colt to a walk. As soon as he did, Logan turned him back to the outside rail, and eventually out into the stable yard, where he'd get a nice bath.

Word Count: 1,091 words!