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Old 04-21-2006, 04:48 PM   #255
Firefoot
Illusionary Holbytla
 
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Join Date: Dec 2003
Posts: 7,646
Firefoot has been trapped in the Barrow!
Léof had found a place where he could settle in to watch without bothering anyone and without being unduly noticeable. Mostly he watched the races, studying them to see if he might pick up any tips. He had begun to feel slightly out of his league; these horses were much finer and this was a much larger affair than any small-time races he had watched in his town. Perhaps he did not have a chance at all, and any hope he had of winning was naught but a fool’s hope. He turned his gaze to Æthel, off of whom he had dismounted – no point in putting extra stress on her when they would only be standing here for the time being – and saw an alert but not unnerved horse, expressing her quiet confidence in him. He knew his horse; let that be his trump card.

In between races, he paid more attention to the crowd, and he began to figure out the sorts of people – which ones were simply watching, then moving on; those who seemed interested in buying or selling; those who seemed to be there for the betting – when not watching a race, these often milled around the horses themselves, many of which were kept off to Léof’s left. A few cast glances Léof’s way, but mostly he was ignored as a bystander. In appearance, the pair truly was not particularly remarkable, especially not with Léof standing on the ground, his weight shifted almost wholly onto his good foot.

As the race immediately preceding his ended, Léof mounted up once more, feeling nervous twinges in his stomach. He didn’t really know what he was doing! But he nudged Æthel forward towards the paddock where he had seen all the other horses go before the races, both to warm up and to allow spectators a chance to see the horses. He told the man at the gate who he was and he allowed him through. Now was the most tenuous part of his plan; anyone from the Mead Hall who happened to be watching the races would see him now, might try to stop him. But slowly these aggravations died away as the calming effects of riding took over. He let his instincts and habits guide him as he rode around, watching the other riders and horses, trying to figure out which ones would be the real competitors, which ones seemed in tune with the jockey and which ones fought it. And suddenly, he smiled slightly. This was all racing, even racing at this level, was: an application of all the things he knew already. He nudged Æthel into a trot, feeling her respond to all his little signals and reading her like a book. He was ready for this, and what was more, so was she. Soon, very soon now. Let’s do this.
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