Spring Festival/506-05-02 Horse Race
From Crossroads Wiki
November 11, 2008
It's Sunday, May 02, 506 A.G.
Gareth is sitting atop a tall pale stallion, 17 hands high. The stallion looks out onto the world with intelligent eyes. Silvery grey lines that look like spiderwebs lace the white coat of this magnificent animal. Silver moonlight on snow, perhaps. His neck is sloped gently, with sharp ears moving at every sound. His shoulders are well defined, his chest muscular. He is lightfooted, yet surefooted. This horse knows where it is going, and what it is doing. Definite strength and speed can be sensed from the musculature of the horse. Only the darkness of his intelligent eyes mars the white perfection. (REPOSE)
With the usual four knights with her, the Empress walks in with Princess Kali, the former dressed in quite an unusual manner for herself, out of the fancy gown of court. Really, it looks like one of her husband's outfits tailored to fit her more curvaceous form.
With some of the people arriving, the Lady Rayder Pass, Mildryth, arrives atop a brown mare that has a white star on her, looking to have been very well taken care of. For those that notice, on the saddle she rides upon is an Imperial crest as well. She has the horse at a slow walk for now, letting her graze and have a bit of relaxation until the race. As the Empress arrives, she bows low in the saddle. "Yer Majesty." She greets.
"I presume if I buy him and the virtue is service, that I will very, very much enjoy him rendering the service I ask," Kali says brightly to the Empress, twisting her parasol's handle so it turns upon her shoulder. She looks over the field with swift interest.
There's a bit of a bow from Gwyneth towards the Empress, the warrior woman with her usual axe across her back and her always revealing outfit making it clear that the heir to Tel Girade continues to grow well within her. There's a soft grunt of greeting, and then her attetnion goes to the horses and riders collecting.
Mena gives Kali a somewhat flat look though it might edged with amusement. "I think you are missing most of the point of the charity part of the auction, Highness." She looks around then, putting on a cheerful smile though she's obviously not racing herself, much to her chagrin. "Good afternoon!" she calls to those getting ready. "Good luck to all of you!"
Gareth offers a makeshift bow from atop his steed, toward the Empress. He then nudges his horse abit, looking to Briony, giving the Baroness a wink. He pats his horse on the neck, as he nudges his horse toward the starting line.
Black as midnight and sculpted of elegantly wicked lines, the tall stallion Phoenix rides dances like obsidian fire beneath the Forester's hands. Managing to hold his seat, Phoenix does not attempt to control the beast so much as sooth it with hand and murmured voice. Noble efforts that seem waste however, as the stallion's powerful neck tosses with anticipation, brilliant eye sparking with intelligence. Those thick nostrils flare, huffing at the scent of nearby mares. The pair mercifully keep some distance between themselves and the other riders.
"Whatever do you mean? I'm giving money to charity and getting something I want in turn. Isn't that the purpose?" Kali gives a wickedly merry wink toward the Empress and lowers her voice somewhat while remaining near the monarch of the realm.
Kali whispers: Which one is going to win? You should know. Do you hear them talking, the horses?
Astride a reddish brown horse, the color is singular and all-encompassing except the saddle which stands out due to its difference in color. Appearing comfortable in the saddle with a good management of the reins, Matthew glances around the area as both arrive but it's the man who offers a polite, if formal nod towards the Empress and her company in acknowledgement.
With a guard as her shadow, Helena arrives at the field under the power of her own two feet and not on horseback. She's here out of curiousity, not to participate. Those that have seen her recently might note that she's without her cane, but her guard walks with one hand half outstretched, as if expecting her to tumble at any moment. "The ground's uneven here, milady," Giles tells her with as much a scolding tone as a guard might dare with his noble charge. Helena glances up at him and gives him a brief smile and pats his arm before continuing on.
Gareth's creamy white stallion dances on its feet, snorting into the air as the horse waits the start of the race. This horse has been bred for such an event. The rider seems to be focused on the Baroness Briony, watching her closely, as he holds the reigns loosely in his hands.
At something said softly from Kali, Mena gives a careful look at each of the horses here so far. "Not exactly. It's more a feeling," she explains, though her gaze remains on the mounts more than the people. She nods first toward Briony, then toward Matthew and the arriving Iain, though still seemingly in answer to Kali more than anything else. "My best guess."
There are some folk here who have come to ride, and some folk who have only come to watch. The latter can be said of a young fellow who loiters near the front of the viewing area, hanging on the fence there. Dag's got his eyes on the horses and their riders, and a bit of change clinks as he sticks a hand into his pocket.
Although Phoenix's attention is predominantly on the stallion beneath him, he follows his mount's gaze over towards the Empress. Standing perfectly still for that moment, the stallion's ears are turned forward, his whole flesh quivering. The onyx beast has caught sight of his mistress and calls to her, his trumpet for both Empress and surrounding mares. The Forester offers his sister a nod of acknowledgement, but there is time for little else as Tinder is dancing in place again. As the stallion twirls, Phoenix turns his scarred visage towards the Baroness, dipping his chin to her respectfully.
Another has come just to watch, only sensible really at this point in her pregnancy and Gwyneth drifts over to lean on a fence as people and horses mill around, making chaos out of the beginning of the race. There's a smile as she spots both Iain and Linette, lifting a hand in a wave to whichever one might actually be paying her any bit of attetnion.
Linette Barca is very rarely _not_ on horseback when given the chance, and so even though she has a slightly preoccupied look in her eyes, as if she's listening to some distant sound, she's handling her mount with instinctive expertise. She's mounted on a slender dark mare with the Barca crest on the bridle, posture straight and carriage easy. Linette tosses a quick wave and a grin at Gwyneth and Helena as she passes each of them - and then one more to Iain when she spots him among her fellow contestants. As she circles in front of the Empress, Linette gives a deep bow from the saddle, her determinedly confident grin sobering with respect.
Giles reaches forward to grab Helena's elbow and leans over to whisper something to her. The lady's expression shifts from confusion to understanding and she gives the man a nod. "Yes, I know," she tells him, finding no reason to whisper in return. "Come," she adds and continues on, moving towards the Empress to at least greet her. "Your majesty," she says upon approach, dropping into a curtsey, one that she leans on Giles to deliver. "A lovely day for such sport," she notes as she looks over the competitors.
For someone who petitioned the throne to ride as a potential Champion, one would think Iain Arx would have more sense than to show up at the field yawning, but that's how he is when he appears -- as unconcerned about the horse between his legs as he is about the fact that he probably woke up not altogether that long ago. He holds the reins almost by token, and they never move; whatever communications he has with the gelding beneath him -- spotted white and brown, and apparently as at-ease as the man atop him -- they are all taking place between thigh, knee and calf, silent directives that serve him in good stead. He offers both Gwyneth and Linette a lazy half-smile, with a murmured, "Lass," for the latter.
Kali makes an oohing sound at Mena's statement, nodding slightly. She considers each of those who compete, and her gaze falls upon Linette. She blinks slowly and draws a long breath through her nose. "That is Asha's little sister?" she asks with surprise.
Mildryth mills about atop the brown mare amongst the other competitors, though the arrival of Linette, there is a sure grin that lifts to her lips. "Oyi, Linnie. Ye grew oop, nae?" She calls, lifting a hand in greeting.
Mena nods to Kali. "Indeed. Baroness Caerdach." She inclines her head to the approaching Helena, smiling. "Indeed. It could only be better were I riding in it myself. But alas... racing is no longer for me." At least not with people watching.
The sky is the most brilliant blue, like a robin's new egg or the heart of a rare jewel. The servants have laid out the course, which consists of a variety of strange and wonderful objects. A small crowd is gathered, with children tittering in nervous excitement and pulling on their mother's skirts and adults talking briskly and even a member of the Merchant's gild taking wagers as the contestants appear onto the meadow.
The Baroness sits atop an animal that looks spun of pure gold, with a coat a bright sunny shimmering gilt and a mane and tail of pale cream, streaming with groomed perfection. The baroness herself is dressed in a riding coat with tails that lap at the golden hide of her mount, and leather breeches and boots in the colors of Burgundy terrace. Her hair is done up in a pair of braids, and the baroness plies her mount with subtle pressure of her feet and to the reins through gloved hands.
"Welcome riders! You are here today to celebrate the bounty and creativity of Green Fields! This is an all-out race, and anything goes. Any refusals by horses or riders will signify a loss, and the riders are welcomed to attend the ale tent on my favor. Winner and the most spectacular loser will earn a special prize," she flashes a wicked grin. "I won't be riding today... just watching and picking up the bits. So.. take your marks!"
Noele strolls casually up into the pasture, a guard wandering along at her side. She squints up at the sunlight, smiling and linking her fingers in front of her. Leuvian words are spoken towards her guard, who nods in agreement to her.
Gareth is already at the starting line, watching and listening to Briony with a particular fondness in his eyes. After a moment, he nudges over toward her, mumbling something, before reclaiming his position at the starting line...
Gareth mutters to Briony, "Today, I ride... love."
Linette is too far away to catch Kali's astonished comment, but the sound of two thick Guardian accents catches her ear at once. "Good luck to you, Daisy," Linette tosses to Iain, with an impishly sparking grin. And then she turns towards the other voice - and her eyes widen when she sees who has spoken. "Mildryth? Providence, I didn't know you were here!" But then Briony speaks, and Linette falls silent at once, listening dutifully to the rules. She gives the reins a gentle nudge, guiding her mare over to the starting line. The horse is light and nimble - no sturdy warhorse to carry a fighter in armor, but perfect for agility and maneuverability, and Linette guides her with the contented ease of experience.
Briony 's mare tries to nip a hunk out of Gareth's horse. Briony laughs. "Eye on the course, sir!" She winks at him, and wheels her horse around to a more advantageous spot. She dips a bow to the Empress, though. "Your Highness... will you start us out?"
Into the fray of magnificent horses and riders, comes a familiar sight to those who participated in last year's event; Angus Maguire from Guardian and his little pony Buttercup. They had a good run last year, placing among the winners, and the victory did much to halt much of the abuse the little boy-legged man and his shaggy pony suffered. But apparently their success was not enough to silence it entirely. He is a tall skinny fellow with blazing bright blue eyes. Atop his head a white wild shock of hair is like a beacon amongst all the greenery. In his hands he's carrying a flagon of warrior's milk. In his other hand he's holding the reigns of a shaggy little Dun Artan pony which appears to be the jest of the men he's just rudely flipped off. "Don't listen to them m'love," he reassures the shaggy animal. "They ain't seen you run yet." He whoops at the Baroness, grinning widely as he waves. "Gonna get me another lass!" He calls, having stolen a wet kiss from her at the last festival.
Kali's eyes remain focused upon Linette as she lifts a hand and taps a finger against her frosted lips. "She is so young." Helena finally steals her focus, and she awards a bright grin toward the woman. "Helloooo, didn't I meet you yesterday? Lady Helena, yes?"
Angus has bow-legs, not boy-legs. Hah!
"I would be honored," Mena tells Briony with a smile, inclining her head as she steps forward to take the mark to send the riders off. "All ready then?" she asks loudly of the riders, trying not to be envious. She does cast a look to each one of her horses lined up.
Gwyneth leans on the fence and there's a laugh and a lift of her hand in support of Angus and Buttercup. There's something about a shaggy mountain pony that makes the usually rather neutral tattoo'd woman downright grin.
"I doubt there is room for one who rides sidesaddle," Helena responds with good humor as her gaze brushes again over the riders. Linette earns a brief smile and a lift of a hand in a wave before she looks back to the Empress. "And I dare say I've not the experience to compete, for I've heard this is quite the event." There's the slightest bit of wistfulness in her tone. Her gaze wanders past the Empress to Kali and there's a look of some recognition. "Ahhh," she says as she's reminded. "Briefly, yes at the auction tent," she tells Kali with a brief smile. "A pleasure to meet you properly, Princess Kali."
Iain isn't much for listening to the rules. The horse goes, and he stays on, and everyone is happy; he has the basics down and so -- like the kid at the back of the classroom who always winds up in trouble and facing the corner -- he's leaning over as Briony is explaining the rules and muttering to Linette. "Ay? Luck is it? Dinna suppose you fancy a wager on the results of the race, Baroness Lass?"
Phoenix guides Tinder over towards the starting area, the stallion chomping at the bit and eying the haunches of a nearby mare. The silent man on the stallion is still, his attention on the race an not those around him.
Mildryth moves towards the starting line along with the rest, guiding the horse with a gentle hand. Must remember, this is one of the Empress's mares, not one of your warhorses. Be nice, Mil. "Linnie, we's talk later." She offers aside to the Barca she knows, but otherwise, turns her gaze to the course. Focus. She does listen to the rules, of course, as well.
"Merry met indeed," Kali sing-songs brightly to Helena. "I hope I win you at the auction. I bid a lot on you, and each of your siblings!" She pauses in conversation to watch the race begin, both hands now wrapped around the hilt of the umbrella. A game shout of, "Leave them in your dust, Linette Barca!"
Matthew may not be excessively appearing the part of a jovial man, but that doesn't keep him from steering Flare towards the starting line with the other riders. True to what he's been told, the horse is well behaved, even for the brief time he's had to meet and greet his partner of the afternoon. Surprisingly, he does give the rules a good part of his attention. One might think he was actually taking this seriously.
Angus mounts up on Buttercup, his long skinny legs hanging low over the pony's sides. He takes a deep draught off his flagon of warrior's milk, before offering it to the pony. "Here you go love, drink up!" Twisting her head around, the pony takes the flagon in her mouth and sucks down a swallow before Angus can wrestle it back from her. The skinny man woooops! And hollers! "Dun Artan!" He shouts, twirling the flagon around over his head. Unfortunately, he forgot to put the stop back in, and there is some quantity of warrior's milk that sprinklers on everyone in the near vicinity. With a cry he gets the flagon recapped.
Noele recognizes Mena and everyone gathered around the Empress. Familiar face located, she begins to make her way over towards the group. She links her fingers loosely in front of her, eyes travelling from Mena to each of her companions, then back towards the Empress. "Good afternoon," she greets, smiling warmly.
"Oh, and what are you wagering, Daisy?" Linette tosses back to Iain. "A pretty bouquet of flowers?" The shout of her own name from the stands whips her head around, widening her eyes in surprise again. She doesn't see the source, but she gives a flip of her hand in salute, and flashes a bright grin. Even when she's not being taunted or greeted by old friends - or strangers - Linette seems to have to make a conscious effort to focus on the matter at hand. She's succeeding, at least for now - the anticipation of riding is keeping her eyes bright and holding her attention in the here and now.
Mena lifts her arm as she calls out, "Set!" And then a few moment later, the arm drops with the sign of the race's commencement, with the accompanying shout of, "Go!" And then she gets out of the way, and fast, moving back toward the group of spectators.
Helena cannot hide her surprise at that, but she's quick to cover for it. "All in the name of charity and virtue," Helena tells Kali. "It seems to be a popular event, my sister should be proud of her efforts," she adds before she looks over at the new arrival. "Good afternoon," she responds in turn, again gaining that look to suggest she's seem the woman before. "Miss Noele, yes?" The question is cut off though as the race begins and quickly her attention shifts to the racers.
With a loud cry of "DUN ARTAN!" Angus whips and spurs that little pony from the starting line. The shaggy creature is off like a rocket. Her forelock blown back by the speed of her take off. Mane and tail flying, legs pumping like a steam engine, ears flat back against her head, that little mare gives it all she's worth.
Gareth hears the shout of Go, and slaps his reigns gently, shouting "Charge!" The horse, Snow, seems to know what that means, and lunges forward into a steady pace. The horse is light on his feet, moving rapidly along the course. Gareth hunkers down next to the neck of the horse, barely watching the direction in which the horse is heading, confident in his Steed's ability to navigate properly.
Briony 's horse would love to race, but the baroness refrains. The pony and her drunken passanger are back from the spring race, and she laughs. Cantering forward towards the hay stack, Briony sorta directs the action to the next obstacle.
Mena chuckles as she rejoins the others. "If that half-breed Dun Artan pony wins again this year, I'll have to go drown myself in sorrow for the rest of the day."
Noele watches the riders take off before her attention shifts to Helena and she smiles brightly. "Oui, I am Noele du Orianne," she introduces through her Leuvian accent. She cocks her head slightly, looking at Helena curiously. "I do not believe I have had the pleasure of meeting you before."
"Suppose we could bet--" And then the Empress is shouting the start, and whatever Iain was going to suggest is (possibly mercifully) lost in the sudden flurry of activity. For all that it seems he might be too cavalier to be effectiveand for all that he's perfectly willing to spend his time at the starting line laughing and paying attention to anything but the tension that should by all rights accompany a competition, the lordling doesn't have any trouble whatsoever in abandoning his statement (with a laugh) and getting straight to business. Heels down and knees toward the wither, with a lean forward what was moments ago a man atop a horse becomes something more like a man with four legs.
There's just the fraction of a second before Linette digs her heels in,just a flicker of her eyes in that same distraction - not Iain talking, but something else that pulls her attention away. And it's enough to get her behind. Starlight doesn't have as much power as the other horses - even the Dun Artan pony passes her by, drawing a snort of frustration from Linette as she catches it, desperately trying to refocus. The young Baroness gives her head a sharp shake to clear it, bends down lower over the horse's neck and urges her on towards the first obstacle, falling into the smooth rhythm of riding, and letting the contented smile return to her face.
Kali's hand cups at the side of her mouth as she gives a fierce call of, "Crush them, Barca! Crush them! Viiictory!" She laughs brightly and greets Noele with a little finger-wriggle wave. The Empress claims her focus again and she asks, "Did it last year? You must be jesting."
Gwyneth can't help but laugh at the Empress' words. "Mountain. Ponies. Strong. Unexpected." She's pulling for the pony, even with dear friends riding real horses.
Mena shakes her head to Kali, not minding that the Princess is cheering for someone else. "I'm not kidding," she says amused. To Gwyneth, she grins and nods. "Unexpected, indeed. I was quite impressed."
From the moment that the signal is given, Matthew gives the horse sitting beneath him a firm nudge of one boot. It's enough of a signal between the two, working on a still constant learning curve. Why? It's not his normal mount but it certainly does well as a substitute as both take off from the starting line. Pressing his lips together, he leans forward against Flare's neck to keep the brisk winds from being much of a hinderance as it ruffles through his hair.
Mildryth makes a call to follow Angus's at the Dun Artan cry. "Rayder'!" Of course, in that moment, she cheers for her lands, and forgets she's riding for the Empress. Ah well. The crest on the saddle should serve well enough as proof right? As the call goes, she leans some into the horse and clicks her heels at Ember's flanks and off she goes. "Yah!" And the horse sets off in the line along with the others, though she is falling behind at first, it seems, only with Linette behind her. She sets her jaw and aims to press more into the race. "C'mon lass!"
Cantering in place up to the starting line, Phoenix's mount bites on the bit, tossing its head anxiously. Heels wedged deep into the stirrups, Phoenix holds the reigns, still whispering words to Tinder. The stallion will have none of it. It's too excited, rearing up on its hind legs in protest to standing still for even half a minute, it paws at the air. When the cry to start goes off the horse pushes off from its hind legs before coming down entirely to the ground, resulting in a momentary delay for the Forester and the Empress' horse. But once he starts running, Tinder takes his head and Phoenix can do little other than hang on.
Helena waits to see all the riders off before she turns back to Noele, looking a little apologetic. "Lady Helena Soranus," she introduces with a renewed grin. "We spoke briefly by letter last evening," she adds. "But it is a great pleasure to meet you in person. Again, my congratulations on your betrothal." But her gaze continues to turn back to the race, eyes fixing on one rider in particular.
The unlikely pair of Angus and Buttercup hit the first jump at a breakneck speed. Up and over the haystack, the little mare tucks her short legs up underneath her as she sails over the stack of hay. Angus pulls his own long chicken-legs up as well, sticking them out at the sides so as not to catch them on the straw as it passes beneath them. With a "WOOOP!" of encouragement, Angus pats the side of her neck. "That's my lassie!"
Noele returns the wiggle-finger wave to Kali, though her attention is fixed on Helena. Her eyebrows lift at the explanation and introduction, her smile widening slightly. "Ah! It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Helena. Thank you again for the congratulations. I am not sure where my betrothed is at the moment, but he is likely busy with some task."
Mena is pretty much all in with watching the race. At least, as much of it as she can see. "Look at them go," she says with affection, likely speaking of her four horses within the race. "It's like poetry in motion." To her, surely.
Gareth files into line right behind Iain, glancing over to Angus as he yells at the horse, "Hyah!" feet in the sturrips, rump off the saddle, his head close to the horses neck. He jumps the haystack easily, the horse manuevering the course like a champion, a very close second place.
The lad near the front of the viewing area gives a loud whoop as the race begins, and shouts some measure of encouragement and curses at rider and horses alike. Surely they're well-meant, though; Dag's face is split in a wide grin as he waves his hat at 'em.
Sitting a horse one isn't familiar with is something of a craps shoot at the end of the day, no matter how august the bloodline to whom the animal belongs. Resigned before ever assigned to Blaze to do whatever he might and call it an even thing so long as they finished and no one was injured, Iain is gratified to find that the spotted gelding beneath him has plenty of fire for the run despite lacking what some people might say is pertinent equipment. They clear the haystack with a well-timed approach and he has no time to spare a glance for the group behind him, silent and steady and forward-focused.
Kali grimaces as Linette falls behind a bit. "Barca! What's wrong with you? She's killing me." The last is said softer to Mena, sighing. "They are beautiful, though. You should have brought the tiny ponies out for fun."
Linette gives a flash of a grin to Mildryth, but she's learned her lesson - she doesn't take her eyes off the course, and keeps her attention there with careful resolve. Up Starlight soars, clearing the haystack, but slightly clipping the edge with her hoof. It's not the best of jumps, and it's certainly not good enough to take Linette any farther up in the race. Linette's mouth tightens with frustration as she feels the hay spray up behind her, but she lands cleanly, and spurs her horse onward with renewed determination.
Mena chuckles and shakes her head without taking her gaze off the race. "Oh, they could have gotten hurt. Not quite the right place for them."
Helena grins at Noele. "I'm sure he is. I know that my brother is often busy and cannot enjoy everything he's like to attend. But he loves his duty," she adds as she divides her attention between Noele and the racers. "I hope we might be able to have dinner together one evening. I'd love to hear more about your homeland, if you'd be willing to indulge my curiousity."
For good or ill, this is still a borrowed horse somewhere in Matthew's mind. Coming up on the hay stacks quickly, Flare may not be living up to his name just yet. Then again, there's no denying the surefootedness of the creature as it manages the leap, once, twice and onwards. But the speed does break off from what both must be considering as a temporary setback against the others already in the apparent lead.
"Of course!" Noele tells Helena cheerfully, smiling. "I would be more than happy to have dinner with you. I am attempting to meet as many people as I can, considering how public I will likely have to be." She laughs and shrugs. "Not that I am protesting."
Being in a stout forth place, but a close to third, isn't exactly her favored spot for the moment. Mildryth leans into Ember more, holding to the reigns as she rides and drives the horse as if racing through a battlefield. That is poetry to her. She balances with ease, making the move over the haystack something of elegance perhaps odd from the harsh warrioress, but nevertheless, she has a focus on that ranger just in front of her. Her jaw is set, eyes hard as she focuses on the competition. "C'mon Ember! Do yer lady proud."
"Did you name them already?" Kali asks the Empress without turning her eyes from the race. "I was thinking of naming them something to do with conquest, but I rather thought you might decide to rename them anyway."
Given his head, Tinder closes the distance on the open stretch between the other horses. Rising up slightly from the saddle, Phoenix leans forward, resting his hands on the massive stallion's neck. The pair flow together like liquid shadow across the race course, the thunder of hooves reverberating through the pasture. Passing one pair, and then a second, the stallion's stride eats up the earth beneath them. Ears pointed forward, Tinder takes stock of the hale bales. Just before leaping, his ears lay flat back as if in defiance of the hay for being placed here. Stretching long and lean, his body an arc of motion, he clears the jump, leaving a good two feet of air space between. Turning his head, Phoenix looks beyond this first jump to locate the second obstacle, tilting his body slightly to guide Tinder towards the river crossing. The distance between the first three leaders shortening.
Lily walks up into the busy field with Zane at her side and a bag held over one shoulder. The very pregnant girl blinks as she sees the races have already begun and she hms softly, looking up at Zane. "I need to find some place to settle so I can patch people up if they get hurt."
Briony directs her horse to the difficult river crossing next. It is down a steep ravine, where a small brook lays nestled between two hills. Horses can crash down the whole way, or attempt to cross a greater distance higher on the hills and cut time.
Zane nods to Lily, "I'll 'scort you over, then go keep th' Empress company; ain't many folk who can talk horse sense with her, I 'magine who ain't already racin'."
"As will I," Helena says to Noele after some of the horses make the jump. The lady had held her breath, releasing it finally and turning back to Noele. "But that is one of the joys of life, it is never static and we never know what is around the next corner." She smiles broadly at that, as if amused by that thought. "Perhaps we should visit the Ocean View one evening. Perhaps after the festival though, this week is quite busy enough as it is."
Lily smiles at Zane and leans in to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Thanks." She allows the Lord to escort her to a relatively open area, and sets her bag down, wincing a bit when she realizes she's going to have to sit on the ground. "Crap. Should've grabbed that page that Bella hired."
As it is not really proper etiquette to should, the Empress doesn't shout at the racers. This is taking her some effort. Obviously.
Approaching the water obstacle, Buttercup slows slightly. It looks like she's going to hesitate. That ravine is pretty steep, and there's no way those little legs of hers would clear the entirely obstacle. "Come on lassie!" Angus shouts encouragingly at her. "You can do it! It's just a wee puddle!" It's clear the pony doesn't not want to be first. There might be /things/ in that water waiting to get her! She hesitates long enough to allow Gareth to gain the lead. It isn't until Buttercup sees the larger horse pass her that she resolves to follow. If anything horrible happens, the larger horse will be the first victim. Once the other horse is running interference to whatever might be hiding in the depth of the river crossing, the pony races down the side, hops into the water, then runs up the other side. Angus hollering and wopping the entire way.
Kali doesn't seem as concerned with this 'proper etiquette' business as the Empress she stands next to, giving a frustrated sound. "I'll have to cheer for someone else." She looks over the pack and then decides, "Like your brother, Empress. Go Forester! Move your ass!"
Gareth jerks the reigns of the horse, heading down the ravine with ease, across the stream, and back up the ravine on the other side. This is what this beautiful white stallion is made for. He nudges his horse onward as he keeps his body square and straight with the horses back, riding with expertise. He comes out of the obstacle in first place, with several riders nipping closely at his heels. The horse shows no sign of fatigue. Gareth has a wide grin on his face as he passes the hesitating buttercup and her rider.
Noele looks at Helena curiously, one hand lifting to rest gently on her arm as the Lady holds her breath. "No, things are constantly changing. I did not expect that I would be coming to Gateway, and yet I am going to be wedding Baron Landry," she notes with a grin. "Change is not a bad thing. After the festival is likely the best time. It is rather busy, oui."
Mena sucks her lips in between her teeth as Kali tells Phoenix to move his ass.
The timing that so fortuitously set Iain and the gelding up to clear the hay bales proves to be off by half of a horselength in the attempt to clear the trench, too much speed going into the obstacle resulting in a jarring landing on the opposite side of the incline that requires both horse and rider to spend a heartbeat of time recovering from. The air rushes out of his lungs as the gentle rise of the saddle finds a sudden home against his sternum, eyes tightened, and with an indrawn breath and setting of his jaw he's giving the gelding a kick at the flanks, the pair climbing out and onto the flat again alongside several others, all just a hair behind the leader.
It's finesse, not power, that gets Linette and Starlight down the ravine. The black mare picks her way delicately down the steep bank, with Linette's hands steady on the reins and her mouth set firm in a tight line of concentration. She leaps lightly over the brook, taking it with ease, and actually landing a little ways up the other side. Linette is still at the rear of the pack when she emerges on flat ground once more - but only barely, closing swiftly in on Matthew.
Slow and steady may ensure a safe trip anywhere else but it doesn't ensure winning a race built on speed. Something that Matthew's learning fast, setting his jaw into a firm line as the pair approach the ravine. Whatever speed that they wanted to make up doesn't appear to happen as the reddish brown horse enters with one hoof and then the other almost considers what would be best way across - without consulting the rider. It's at least not the shortcut to cost them injury. It's also enough time for him to see the form of another horse closing in from behind, this one being Linette's.
"Yes, but a good kind of busy," Helena tells Noele as she glances sideways towards Kali, dividing her attention now between two women and the racers. The poor lady might just go dizzy soon if she's given something else to look at. Her pale gaze slips from Kali and pauses briefly on the Empress before giving it back to Noele. "A time of celebration, after all. I, for one, am pleased to see the end of the winter months."
As they approach the river obstacle, Mildryth bares into Ember going for the jump. She rides down to the ravene and starts the jump, but for whatever reason, they don't clear it entirely and end up in a nice big splash of the water, getting the rider wet as much as the horse. A growl and grit of teeth as she presses onward. "C'mon, girl." She heads onward in the lines, she ends up in third, but that doesn't mean much, since there are three going for second!
Unlike the smaller pony, Tinder has no such hesitations about ravines or water. The massive stallion forgoes the small hills entirely, cross the greater distance between the two and skipping the water entirely. Phoenix flattens himself against the brute's neck, the two clearing the obstacle while gaining on several other riders.
Briony moves from the ravine as the riders emerge the treacherous obstacle. She moves her horse towards the chicken coops, where the feathered prisoners beginning to cluck nervously, a din that rises with the approach of thundering hooves.
Noele nods in agreement. "Oui. Busy is not bad either. It gives people something to think about other than their problems," she notes, grinning as she watches Helena's attention shifting rapidly from one thing to another. "If I am distracting you, I can speak with you at another time."
From the direction of the food tents, carrying a confection of colorful, crystallized sugar in one hand and a cup of something sweet and hot in the other, Vesper is a dull gleam of pale green silk on the periphery of the activity. She skirts about the crowd at a slight distance, trailed by her ever-present guardian and pushes up onto her toes in an attempt to get a look at the race, though for the moment seems to be content with remaining outside of the crush of noise and excited bodies.
The lad up front doesn't seem to be cheering on any particular rider; or, if he is, the string of cheers and epithets flows so quickly that it's hard to tell just who he's aiming them at.
"There, that's more like it. Speed and conquest, Forester! Speed and conquest!" Kali's shout of encouragement rings through the air and is chased by a bright laugh. "This is ever so much better. I like cheering for the victor."
Mena does take her gaze off of the race to look at Kali directly. "There is still a lot of race left, you know."
"What?" Helena blinks and looks back from the racers to Noele. "No no, I'm sorry," she apologizes, looking a little embarrassed. "I'm enjoying your company, there's just so much to ..." Helena pauses, watching the Forester and horse leap over the ravine, again holding her breath. "So much to watch," Helena finishes, once again looking to Noele with a nervous grin. "Are you cheering on any rider in particular?"
Noele doesn't look offended. If anything, she looks amused, smiling at Helena. "Oui, there is much to watch," she agrees. "I do not have any particular rider that I am cheering for. I simply came to watch and meet with people. There are many that I have not met."
Chickens?? Buttercup /hates/ chickens. The pony pulls up short, her hooves digging into the ground as though she is about to come to a screeching halt at the chicken coops. She takes a wild turn away from the obstacle; her ears pointed ahead, the whites of her eyes visible. She has a mind to head to the drinking tend. "They's only cluckers lassie!" Angus can be heard shouting above the dim of chickens and hooves. Yanking on the reigns, he gives the mare a hard turn back around towards the cages. "Close your eyes!" Setting her up towards the jump again, Angus spurs her forward, kicking her side with his boots. If the mare won't close her eyes, Angus will lean forward and try to cover them with his hand. But Buttercup is having none of it. She tosses her head at those chickens and starts to bucking. The race might be over at this point for the pony, if Angus didn't manage to hang on (arms and legs flapping in all directions), and if there weren't a whole field of other riders coming up on them. Caught between c
Chickens and thundering hooves, Buttercup runs around the jump, missing it entirely, and keeps going.
Something about the poultry spooks Gareth's seemingly otherwise flawless stallion. The horse plants his front two legs into the ground, sending Gareth off the saddle and into the dirt with a loud *thump* as dust rises violently about his body. He groans loudly, coming to his feet quickly. He is bleeding mildly from the side of his head, but doesn't seem to notice. He has a look of determination in his eyes as he hops quickly back into the saddle, kicking his horse back into a frenzied gallup. The odds of winning are very low at this point, but he has a determined man. Somehow, in the midst of all that, he winds up in fifth place, with two riders still trailing behind.
That's a tall obstacle, and the poor luck of the two riders in front of him gives Iain plenty of cause for concern. With a lowering of the head and a nothing-for-it-but-forward expression firmly on his face, he gives the spotted gelding its head. After casting a white-limned glance at the bucking Buttercup, Blaze's liquid eyes seem to refocus in time to carry the pair of them over the noisy tiers of cages, down feathers spraying like fake snow out of the wired construction. It'd be comedic if it hadn't cost two people their positions, and it's probably only for that reason that Iain doesn't smirk.
The feathery chaos doesn't seem to faze Linette or Starlight at all. Up and over they go, clearing the chicken coops in a graceful arc of a jump, and Linette lets out a bright laugh at the top - at the amusement of the chickens below, and at the sheer joy of flying so fast and high. She's pounding faster now, pulling right alongside Matthew - and even though Linette's laugh cuts off into a sharp grimace of sympathy as she sees Gareth's fall, she still spurs Starlight on faster.
Was the good money on the Dun Artan pony? Perhaps it was: Dag flings his hat to the ground and curses at it loudest of all when it refuses to face the chickens. Only after a thorough chewing-out -- one a bit more shrill than the boy intends -- does he collect his hat, dust it off, and skulk away from the race.
Sometime's it's just pure luck that wins out. Or.. it doesn't. First the ravine and now... birds. Feathered chickens, the sound of which could almost echo the unspoken thought in Matthew's mind. We're having to jump THAT? Where one might be dubious, the horse is the one who takes the lead but not with the man following suit with a quick readjustment of the reins in both hands. This may be a rocky series of leaps but there seem to be no chickens fairly harmed in the passing of the two. Up. Over. Up. Over until they head towards the next obstacle in determination, with a brief glance towards the two who had a not so small tumble. And clear notice of Linette still close by. It might be amusing if they weren't competing.
Despite the good training of the horse Mildryth rides at the Empress's hand and her trainers, Ember doesn't seem very happy about the chickens upcoming. Or perhaps she's not happy about being wet from the river. Either way, Mildryth comes up for the jump, and Ember makes a protest of snorting and slowing down, so that when they jump the back hooves catching a couple of the chicken coops knocking them over, which slows them down more for a good moment. She leans into the horse's neck and snaps the reigns, pressing onward. As others fall back, she grunts as she finds herself now tieing for third, pressing hard to try and catch up to second.
The squeak Vesper manages not to let loose when a pony gets to bucking and a gentleman falls from his mount can't be kept quiet in the wake of Dag's furious tirade. The courtesan squeaks and then dissolves into a helpless fit of what she would vehemently deny are giggles, having enough wherewithall to at least lift one hand and conceal the lash-narrowed amusement over that string of choice words. The crowd, apparently, is almost as interesting as the race itself to someone who spends all of her time out of the public view.
Sprinting through a snow of feathers, Tinder will not be deterred. The Forester holds on, allowing Tinder his head to guide himself through the chaos of riders and chickens. Switching gaits, the stallion dances from right to left, catching up with the other horses. Phoenix keeps his seat, riding the transitions smoothly up and over the coops. On the other side, the stallion plunges ahead, the lead now in the race.
"Well I do hope you make a bid or two in the virtues charity," Helena tells Noele. "That will certainly give you the chance to meet new people," she continues with a grin. "We've been blessed with a large number of people willing to give of themselves for charity, a beautiful thing, indeed." As the noise from the chickens growns louder Helena turns back to the event and once again her breath is held, but not before she claps her hands at Linette's wonderful jump. "She's going to marry my cousin in a few months," she tells Noele, pointing out the Guardians Baroness with an outstretched hand. As Phoenix takes the lead she grins and claps her hands again, but refrains from actually raising a shout. "Oh, well done!"
Kali applauds lightly with her hand against her thigh, breathlessly telling Mena, "There may be a lot of the race left, but look at your brother ride. Splendid." She chases her soft commentary to the Empress with another vociferous call of encouragement. "Domination and fear, Forester! Victory! Victory!"
"That's my Tinder," Mena tells Kali without taking her gaze from the race. "He's got spirit, that one. But I had a talk with him this morning. Last race, he came in almost last."
Although they were avoid, the chicken coops are not forgotten. A few of the feathers are stuck now to Buttercup and her charge. At least the pony has quit bucking and Angus has managed to stay on her back, though he looks worse for the attempt. It's difficult to tell where his white hair ends and feathers begin. The duo hit the log jump, pulling equal with the Empress' Ember. They clear the jump, the little pony tossing her head as they land on the other side. Gesturing with his flagon of warrior's milk towards Mildryth, Angus shouts "DUN ARTAN!" Still in motion, he takes a long swig from the flagon. They may not be in the lead, but they're still in the race.
He's late. He knows he's late. He seems aware enough of his tardiness, in fact, that Leon approaches the field at a jog just shy of a run, pulling up short just behind the gathering crowd and craning his head to see how the face is going. He catches sight, too, of a familiar face in that crowd, and begins to edge his way through toward his cousin. "Helena!" he calls, "How's she -- how're they -- how's it -- how's the race?"
"I have been giving that some thought," Noele nods to Helena. "There is a rather extensive list, including my betrothed." She grins and looks over at the horses, eyes focusing on Linette. "Ah! I will have to meet her as well, then. There are a large number of people that I ought to meet."
Both Helena and her guard turn at the shout of her name and it is the former that looks shocked to see Leon moving towards her. "Cousin! Aren't you supposed to be in the infirmary?" She looks a little annoyed, actually.
Gareth give a wild "Hyah!" to his horse as he gets away from the chickens. The horse seems the more determined after the spill as well. Snow and Gareth moves past Mildryrh and Angus easily enough as the pair near the log jump. The horse hops over the logs with ease, and they set their sight on Pheonix and Iain, who seem to have taken a rather large lead after the spill. The Tyrean pair are not ready to give up, as of yet.
Noele turns to look at Leon as well when Helena does, looking at the young man curiously. She refrains from commenting for the moment, simply listening to the pair converse.
The pair have had only minor setbacks at all. Rhythms, weights and instincts fairly well-aligned, the young lord of Soaring Skies is making the most of the consistency offered him by the fleet-footed, agile beast beneath him. What daunting height the logs display proves to be little more than a momentary consideration for Blaze, who gathers himself before the logs, bunches his hindquarters and sends the pair of them over with room to spare, drawing up a horse length behind the Forester -- close enough that Iain can angle a mottled blue glance at the man's back as they dash toward the next challenge.
Mena is still intently watching those horses run, even as a messenger comes up and slips in the square of knights around her. It takes the lad a moment to actually gain the Empress's attention. She gives him a quick and distracted thanks as she accepts the note and opens it to give it a brief glance. "Of course, now," she complains quietly with a sigh, looking longingly toward the race once more. "Something has come up. I must away."
Kali glances sidelong at the Empress. "You're going to leave in the middle of this? Are you crazy? Let whomever just wait. You are the Empress, it's your privilege to do so," she says, the light words teasing.
Linette pounds on ahead towards the next jump, rounding the outside of the chicken coops and coming close to the edge of the ring,packed with people. And then her eyes flutter and her head cocks sharply, as if she had just heard something - and Starlight balks before the jump, her mistress's attention gone. By the time Linette drags her focus back to the course with a squeeze of her eyes and a sharp shake of her head, the rest of the horses have moved on, leaving her behind once more. Her face crumples in furious frustration, and for a brief second, there's a flash of real fear in her eyes at what has just happened. But she has no time to think about that - she's lost enough time already. Linette gathers the reins up and spurs Starlight on ahead, clearing the logs easily in another graceful jump, and pounds ahead, desperate now to cover the distance between herself and the rest of the pack.
"Master Iorwerth let me out," is Leon's near-breathless answer as he catches up with his cousin, a grin snaking its way across his features, and he offers Noele a polite nod for the interruption. He seems to note then, too, the Empress's departing presence, and to her a bow--
--one from which he rises just in time to see Linette falter. He winces, and murmurs, "Oh, Starlight!"
At Kali's words, the Empress does hesitate, though there is some uncertainty in her features in doing so. She's quite used to jumping when the Empire's business says jump. "I suppose....," she says, trailing off as her attention once more is grabbed by the running of the race.
Recovering from the near disaster that were the chicken boxes and already feeling the dampness from the earlier ravine crossing, Flare and Matthew might have some sense of hope in closing the distance - even if the others are growing further away with each hoofbeat. But in the lapse Starlight has in following.. whatever caught her attention, isn't passed along to this particular horse. Not intentionally. Even if the logs are leapt with all the grace of a pick eater. This one? No. This one. Or was it the other. Once through the obstacle, it's forward to play catch up.
With the Fielder Ranger in the lead, Mildryth has a hard set to her face as she moves onward. The log jump ahead brings forth a loss in position for the Guardian Lady, it seems. Ember runs for the logs and makes a near-clean jump, clipping the back hooves some on the logs just barely before she lands a bit hard. Further they go, however, onward and chasing after the others, landing her in a tie for Fourth, her focus now on Gareth to which she trails just by a little. She also manages to spit out a feather with a scowl of taste before she hollers out a war cry. The warrior's milk is missed, as well, as her focus is elsewhere than on Angus.
Pulling ahead into the lead, Tinder passes his barn-mate Blaze as they race across the pasture. Standing crouched in his stirrups Phoenix follows the rhythm of the stallion's gallop, his lean body moving smoothly, hands following the pump of that massive neck. He's curled his gloves into Tinder's long mane, reigns loose, horse navigated now by slight press of leg and subtle shift of weight. The log jump passes beneath them. For a moment they are airborne, and it seems that the midnight stallion might quit the earth entirely with the height and distance of the jump. There is no expression of joy or determination on the Forester's features. It is only his quicksilver eyes that burn with some wild unnamed emotion, the stallion racing like a spring-loaded hurricane beneath him.
Helena looks away from Leon a moment as the Empress makes mention of leaving. "I hope it is nothing serious, your Majesty," she tells Mena with a hopeful smile to her lips, though there is a look of disappointment that the Empress is going to miss the end of the race. With a look back to Leon and nods and gives him a long look, searching for any hints of his earlier illness. "Well I'm glad to see you're well. Leon, this is Baroness Consort Landry, Noele du Orianne. Baroness Consort, this is my cousin, Baron Consort Caerdach, Leon Maritus. He's the one marrying Baroness Linette," she explains, with another gesture to where the woman is, in the field. "Look Leon, Lord Forester is in the lead," she tells Leon as she slips her arm through his uninjured one.
Briony 's horse rears up a little, spinning on her hooves as the Baroness turns to approach the Woolseller's jump. This pen of brightly colored sheep looks like the byproduct of a Draughtean's finest herb. The object is to make it through the pen without calamity happening to rider and horse. Mud, blood and feathers trail in the wake of riders, spattering horse and clothing alike. "Yeehaw!"
Noele smiles warmly at Leon as he's introduced, bowing her head politely to him. "A pleasure to meet you," she tells him before glancing to Mena, waving to her as she departs before returning her attention to Leon and Helena. The races get a glance from her whenever the crowd starts to grow more tense.
Kali places a hand on Mena's arm as the triple-jump is faced, her breath caught for a moment with the mounting tension. "By the Cliffs, this is amazing to watch. Phoenix Forester, you keep the lead! I'm not cheering for someone who isn't going to win! May you wash in the tears of your crushed opponents!"
"Hm?" Leon answers his cousin, his eyes still on the race for a moment before he draws them back at her introduction. "Oh. Oh, pleasure -- pleasure's mine, Baroness -- ah, Consort," he offers a short bow to Noele, and a smile. "Pleasure, entirely. And well done, Lord Phoenix!" he calls as well -- obviously, before the jump.
Psychedelic sheep do not seem as much a concern for the Buttercup as the mundane chickens did. One! Two! Three! Look at that shaggy little pony go! Buttercup is eating up that triple combination. Those sheep don't bother her one bit. She barely looks twice at them. The duo have regained ground. They may not be winning, but Angus does not seem to mind. On Buttercup's back he whoops loudly with every jump. "Go lassie! Go! Dun Artan!" He cackles loudly, twisting in his saddle to wave his flagon at the other riders. "By my grannie's saggy tits! Run ya bastards! Run!" His white shock of hair flying in the breeze like a dandelion puff.
Mena isn't departing just yet. Although she is still gripping that missive that is calling her away, she is warring with leaving the race so close between the riders. She even pays no mind to Kali's hand on her arm as she watches so intently and with some held breath as the riders go over the triple jump. This is a passion of the Empress. It would only be better if it were her butt in one of those saddles.
Noele quirks an eyebrow at the distracted Leon, but a smile is on her lips regardless. She is not insulted. Instead, she too turns her gaze over to the riders, linking her fingers in front of her and standing quietly for the moment.
Helena gives an odd look over at Kali at her choice of cheers. WIth a shake of her head she looks back to her cousin and Noele, her smile returning. Noting Leon's distraction she laughs a little and leans towards Noele. "He's quite taken with her, you see," she tells the other woman as her gaze picks out Linette on the field.
Gareth closes the gap between himself and the leaders, and as they head into the jumps, he is nipping at their heels. Over the first one the Tyrean pair goes with ease, finding himself tied for second, then over the second jump he goes easily, but on the third, the horse boggles just abit, putting him in a tie for third place yet again. He comes out of the last jump in a full sprint, his body rising with each gallop of the horse, then settling. He whispers to his horse inaudibly.
It's difficult to describe how it is that Iain and Blaze manage to take the lead given how uncertain their entry into the sheep pen actually is. It's not executed well; both horse and rider overcompensate for the approach in length of stride and wind up having to make up the balance in the actual jump. As though startled by the near disaster clearing the first fence, Blaze barrels through the rest of the pen with another dance around the blazing blue of an electric-hued sheep and clears the second one as though his tail was on fire, rocketing them forward over the distance they might've lost to somehow land them in the lead...much to Iain's surprise, and possibly also the gelding's.
Linette plunges towards the pens, confidence rising back up after the beautiful jump that she had finally managed over the logs. But her drive to make up lost ground has made Linette reckless, and that careful focus she had worked so hard to regain wavers again. One jump cleared - and then a second, a little less clean than the first - and then there's that same flicker of Linette's eyes. She lets out a bewildered gasp, shaking her head as she and Starlight fall still again amid the crowd of milling brightly-colored sheep. Starlight whickers uncomfortably and tosses her head, too - and when Linette has pulled her attention back to reality, she has fallen even farther behind. "Curse it twelve ways to the Abyss!" she cries, and pushes ahead with desperate speed. Is there any way to catch up? Perhaps not. But Linette is still trying.
Kali's jaw drops at the shifting of positions, and she gives a little hmf sound. She mutters to Empress Mena, "... know, that's... I've... cheering for the wrong... I... magic... cheating?... did not... a wager."
Approaching the sheep pen, Matthew gives the grasp held on the reins a bit of slacking to allow the creature some freedom in movement. It, unlike him, has a greater feel for the course and what's demanded of both. As Flare enters the pens, the multicolored wool do cause something of an 'issue' with the four legged member of this team. With a turn of his head from one side to the other, it only takes another forceable nudge and readjustment on the man's part to start the process of leaping over the various wooly, colorful and some may say tie-dyed sheep. They're not the normal hues. Maybe not as quick as the others, but the lead doesn't become worse. Does it become better? That's yet to be seen as the speed is increased as they exit the corral.
As the triple jump comes in, Mildryth goes into the run smoothly. The entry is as smooth as could be, another war cry given "Ieeyee, Rayder!" She bellows and over the jump they go. The jump itself couldn't be even more flawless and smooth but the exit as it were, is a bit shoddy. The landing is taken hard, but she pushes onward towards the stretch towards the next run, but, all in all, she lands in a smooth second place. And now she bares down trying to catch up to Iain, and get the fielder and Tyrean off her tail.
Mena lets out a laugh and shakes her head to Kali's comment, though still her gaze remains on the race. "Don't you dare even think it. Whichever horse wins deserves it today."
Helena could speak no truer words: though he gives the Forester lord a cheer, Leon's eyes are for the Barca baroness and he punches the air in front of him with his good arm when the jump sets her back so much the farther. He has the manners, at least, not to curse, though a dark one dies on the tip of his tongue. It's only then he glances back at his cousin and Noele. "Huh?"
Bouncing at a high-stepped trot around the sheep pen, Briony watches the action and holds her horse back to let the leaders take the course. She canters along, the horse swinging her head with want to compete with these imposters! The next jump is a mixed contraption that looks somewhat like a still....
Stride lengthened to impossible proportions, Tinder attempts the first two obstacles of the triple combination as one. Although the brute manages not to break his neck, the landing is a hard one with Phoenix losing his stirrup. A cotton-candy pink sheep bolts across the third pen, sending Tinder to jigging when he should have jagged. The sudden shift beneath him nearly costs the Forester his seat atop the stallion. He does not waste precious time attempting to find the stirrup with his boot and goes over the third jump without it. On the other side, Tinder recomposes himself, stretching long and low in an attempt to make up lost ground.
"I do understand being rather infatuated," Noele tells Helena with a nod, grinning at Leon as he looks back towards them. "Nothing." She looks back towards Helena and laughs quietly, shaking her head. "I believe I would be just as distracted if Baron Landry was racing. I do not blame either of you."
Helena grins at her cousin. "I was just telling the Baroness Consort that you and the Baroness..." She pauses though as she watches the race, even wincing as the Forester looks like he might lose his seat. Her arm tightens on Leon's momentarily but relief comes soon and she can resume her conversation. She looks to Noele and for a moment her expression changes, but the meaning of it is difficult to read. "I'm sure you would be," she finally says with a nod before turning back to the race.
Notice that the Empress is still here? There is some tension that is palpable as her brother looses the stirrup and almost looses his seat over that last jump, though relaxes slightly when he does come through it safely. "This is fantastic," she breathes, mostly to herself.
Kali gives a swift nod of agreement with Mena's statement, patting her arm before Kali's returns to her own side. "I will add some gift to the victor, but next time I will have to pick better."
Angus and Buttercup nearly wipe out at the next obstacle. There is nothing graceful about the dramatic standstill the little mare comes to at the bubbling still. It is as though she recognizes the contraption and the scent of alcohol. "No lassie! You gotta jump! This ain't no time for drinking!" Angus tries to encourage her forward with legs, crop and flagon, but instead of going over the jump, Buttercup circles it, heedless of the thundering horses around her. "Over it! Over it lassie! We'll drink after! Come on my lassie!" Angus ducks as one of the other horses sails by. When the coast is clear, he steers her towards the obstacle a third time. Eventually, he's able to sweet-talk her up and over, but just barely. One of her ears twitches backwards towards the still as it retreats in the distance.
Gareth moves down the stretch toward the still with lightning speed, his horse keeping a rapid pace as it navigates the course. Snow jumps over the still with ease, allowing him to pass Mildryth, with Phoenix right beside him and his Tyrean horse. He looks over to Phoenix as the two are seemingly setting their pace together in second place. He nods toward the Forester with a fierce look of determination in his eyes, then back to the course his gaze returns, as Iain seems to be spreading the gap between first and second. He nudges his horse onward!
Noele tilts her head curiously at the expression on Helena's face. "Is there something wrong?" she asks, her forehead creasing slightly. "I am unsure if I have said something inappropriate." She gives some thought to her previous statements, starting to run through various translations in her mind.
In the letter in which he requested that he be considered to sit one of the Empress' horses for the race, Iain made mention of the fact that his father would probably break his legs if he didn't enter to represent his equestrian bloodline, quite apart from the opportunity to be noted by the Imperial seat. It's probably safe to say that his performance -- even if it ends badly at any moment, because it well could -- thus far has probably spared him the necessity of worrying about whether or not he's going to be kneecapped by an irate Bane Arx. He's indivisible from the brown-spattered white of the creature beneath him, caught up in cadences of hammering hooves and the hard blowing of Blaze's lungs through wide nostrils. Foam lathers flanks and bit, sun struck off of bits of steel. What force they've gathered since their faltering at the sheep pen they carry with them over the low end of the angled bar at the still, choosing to play it safe rather than press their luck with a more impressive, higher jump.
Linette's mouth is set in a tight line, and her eyes are desperately fixed on the course ahead of her as she pounds towards the last few jumps. The gap between her and the other horses has grown - she is riding pretty much on her own now, trailing Matthew by several lengths - but Linette is _not_ letting herself be out of this race. She sails over the whirring gears of the still, back to her usual clean, graceful jumps - and even though it isn't spectacular enough to bring her much farther forward in the standings, or even to bring much of a smile back to her face, she lands steadily, and pounds onwards.
One of the knights with the Empress clears his throat loudly, getting the woman's attention. "Oh, alright," she does finally relent. "This is killing me, though," she says, then looks at Kali. "And you're going to die, too. I will not suffer alone. I invoke the right of friendship to tear you away from something when I need it. You there... boy," she calls toward one of the other young spectators. "Five silver to you to run to the castle with the results for me as soon as the race ends, yes?"
"Oh," answers Leon, grin finding his features at least a little in the wake of that, and a hint of pink rising in his ears. "Well, I -- she -- she -- after the tournament, I'd hoped she'd come out well in this -- in this one." Helena's grip on his arm sends his eyes briefly seeking another rider, but they're not long away from the tail end of the rider at the back.
Kali's mouth makes a little O of shock at the words of the Empress. "Oh, you did not just say that to me. You bitch!" she declares to Mena, her voice rich with appreciation. "After all I've done for you. The ponies!" She places the back of one hand against her forehead in a dramatic gesture, then slants a look sidelong toward Mena. "Is this working?"
"No," Mena says plainly with a shake of her head, reaching for Kali's arm to drag her along as she starts back toward the road mournfully. "But I probably do deserve that name for it." She doesn't bother with any goodbyes as she takes her leave with the Princess. She figures everyone is intent on that race anyway. She would be, were she able to stay.
Helena seems not to have realized her expression changed and she's quick to calm the woman's fears. "No, nothing at all. I ... I must be distracted," she tells Noele, but her gaze is on the riders. Her mouth opens to say something else, but Kali's shouts silence her completely and she looks over in shock. When her mouth opens again, it is not to say anything, but only to complete the stunned look.
With the distance between himself and Linette widening, Matthew doesn't dare to hope that any other increases are likely. But there is the tale-tale mount belonging to Argus not too far ahead. The one with the interest in drinking rather than racing. Still, the pair are up and over the still by the the time Flare makes his leap determinedly. If there's any hope, it's still there for this particular horse as the landing is slightly unsteady. Enough to give the man a moment to hunker down after a look towards the main pack.
As they come up towards the next obstacle, Ember makes the jump grandly, only to land harder that anticipated, which throws Mildryth nearly off the horse entirely. The jar makes both of her feet slip out of the stirrups, and her body to slide to the right side as she urges the horse onward. One hand on the reigns, her body going almost horizontal with the ground, she manages to get a toe in the one she's closest to (at a very odd bent angle, I might add), one hand losing the reigns in favor of taking hold of the saddle to pull herself up. A grunt and the other foot slides home, and she presses onward, only to see the ties for third, become the ties for second. At least she didn't lose too much space, there. That was a close one. "I's ain' dun yet, lass. C'mon, lets go!" She urges. Those who watch her face might be able to see lines of pain that she fights through. That damn near fall must've hurt somewhere.
Kali sighs as Mena claims her arm. "Fine, fine. Friendship rights it is." She gives a merry wave with her other hand. "Farewell all! And, who is that winning now? An Arx? ARX! May your boots crush the memory of you into the skulls of your enemis! You, at least, better win!" She tells Mena primly, "Third time's the charm, after all," as she heads off with the Empress.
Empress Mena looks over her shoulder one last time as her and her entourage take their leave of the race. Stupid duty.
