Folksong; Leading The Parade

[Melissa]

"Ease up Song, steady." I crooned softly to the bay filly when she shifted restlessly in the starting gate stall. Thrusting her head forward the young Thoroughbred swished her tail restlessly. The dawn's first rays were sparkling off of the starting gate and it was a bit muggy with the promise of rain to come later in the day. Leaning forward slightly over her withers I took a tighter grip on Song's reins, wrapping my fingers around some of her mane as well. My gaze firmly looking between the filly's flickering ears.

The stillness of the early morning was broken by the slamming open of the starting gates. With an powerful leap forward, Song's hooves tore up the dirt track, neck stretching out ahead and then coming back in rhythm with each stride. "That's it Song, nice and easy." I murmured softly, pressing my cheek against the filly's warm neck. I closed my eyes briefly, listening inventively to the bay's sharp intakes of breath as she galloped easily, mane lashing back in my face and tail being combed by the breeze.

It was a nice morning for a quick gallop on the track and it'd been nearly two weeks since her last major work and she had a race coming up soon that she needed to be ready for. Her second start and already I was getting jitters about her second start. It would most likely be her last race until early December. She was still relatively young and I wouldn't be pushing her too hard this early. I had quite a few big plans for the bay Thoroughbred and wanted her in tip-top shape for those plans.

A quick tugging at the reins drew my attention and I snapped out of my daydream, cursing myself for not paying attention to my elegant Song. Song's right eye was rolled back, watching me as she skimmed along over the track as swiftly as I allowed her too but still portraying that natural elegance and grace she'd always had. I practically glowed everytime the thought "this filly is all mine" crossed my mind, Song was amazing in her own way. She wasn't conceited or an killer horse, she was unique in an special way. A mischevious gleam appeared in the filly's eye and I smiled lightly when Song cheekily swerved sideways, her head snapping up in an attempt to steal the bit. "Play day can come later sweetie, now's time to work." I said gently bringing down Song's head and nudging her lightly into a faster gallop to keep her from playing around.

Instantly without an sign of hesitant Song powered forward, her strides zipping us by the poles. Even under an small hold she was explosive but then again I had never seen her give that strong closing drive for another rider since I would kill anyone who dared come near her saddle. Barreling down the backstretch, the wind whistling around us and the track merely an brown flash beneath her hooves. "Sensational work Song, now lets slow it a bit." I cooed softly, hands flexing and taking control over the bay filly who fought slightly before dropping the pace as she passed by the finish wire.