A Good Soldier is a Practiced One {o}

[Windsor]

Windsor

It doesn't hurt me.
You wanna know how it feels?
You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?

The mare tossed her head slightly, snorting as she jogged slowly to her usual starting point. She loved these fields, they were open, empty, and green as far as the eye could see. She smiled to herself. It was a beautiful day, though the air was bitingly cold, the seventeen hand Warmblood mare was willing to tough it out. She had a long warm up; it was quite a distance from here to the heart of the equine territory, and she had trotted and cantered almost the entire way. In her mind, the best soldier was the fittest and the most practiced. It was her job to defend this territory, and damn her if she was going to die after a year in the gig. So, she trained. She ran and jumped, and did anything she could to prepare herself for the battlefield. Because when Windsor went up against that cat or dog, she needed to be ready.

Deeming herself ready, the mare's eyes snapped up, and she drove her hind hooves into the ground with tremendous force, launching herself forward into a dead sprint. She was fairly light for her breed, almost Thoroughbred type, but with the big bones of the Warmblood. Eating up the earth with her huge stride, she counted 30...31....32 in her mind, making her way up to fifty. When she hit the decisive number, she slammed her hind end into the ground, spinning on her haunches and took off the opposite direction. Her spinning was not as defined as the thick haunched Quarter Horse, but with lots of practice, it was good enough to take any pursuer by surprise.

She did four repetitions of this, finally taking a canter around the field, and let off a few good bucks to loosen up, finally slowing to a walk. She was breathing steadily, and she felt a small amount of sweat on her neck and face, but she had cut her workout short enough so that it would not affect her health in the wintery conditions. Deciding that what she could really use was a good rub against the castle walls back home, she turned and started to head back, her mind wandering slightly.

And if Only I could.
Make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places....
Be running up that road
Be running up that hill
Be running up that building.

She had joined the kingdom army because she wanted to defend her homeland. She had been unable to defend her friend, and so she defended her country. The felines were the ones she hated above all others, as it had been one of their rotten slaves to take down her friend. They were also quite powerful, being large foes and good with claws and teeth. But there was disunity in the feline ranks. Cats could never agree on anything, let alone get along with each other.

There was less to be feared from the Canines, as Windsor always got the impression that they kept to themselves, and she would just let them be that way. Though they were very structured, and populous, though canines were small. One good kick could lay them dead on the ground, but in numbers they were dangerous. Windsor thought that her kingdom needed a more structured military system, as they had the advantage of size and strength per individual. Most of the army was made up of zebras, who were fun to hang around with and were actually really great friends. Windsor liked zebras almost better than horses, even though they barely scraped pony status while Windsor was over seventeen hands. That was another reason Windsor worked so hard - she stuck out like a sore thumb in a herd of black and white.

As she made her way home, she began humming softly to herself, lost in thought as she walked, her large stride making the journey go by quickly as she wandered towards home. Stretching her head towards the ground, she relished the wonderful, relieving pull on her back and withers, soothing her mildly stiff back from all the hard work she had been doing. She allowed her nose to brush across the small, stubby grass of the winter frost, allowing the wet, frosty goodness to melt on her muzzle, before she raised her head again. She couldn't wait to get a good roll in the second she got home; working always made her back itch.

Be running up that hill.
Be running up that hill.
If I only could, be running up that hill.

words; 713
muse; great!
notes; longer than I expected for a first post, but there you go, open to all - equines, canines, felines, and nagetier!

[Tarot]

-butts in- SO I HEARD YOU LIKED ZEHBRUHS.
Sorry this is so short e.e

Tarot picked up a light canter, his nostrils flairing softly as he snorted evenly with each stride. The sun pushed down on his irregular hide, feeling more like a hot pressue than just sunny weather. But it was a good burn, and it invigorated him, feuling him forward.

Forward, forward, forward...

His short, previously-roached mane flopped with each short, stacatto stride, bouncing softly on his crest. Despite being lightly dusted in sweat, his eyes glared brightly, screaming of his rock-solid work ethic and determination. He had been running on and off most of the morning, causing his limbs to burn. But again, it was such a rush, there was no pain accompanying the pounding, hot blood through his stout, toned muscles. What he really needed to do was start running in armor. Now he had a solid endurance built up, he needed to work on carrying the damn plates. Oh well. He'd get there soon enough.

Stride... stride... stride... stride...

[Windsor]

Windsor

It doesn't hurt me.
You wanna know how it feels?
You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?

Windsor was lost in thought when she heard the hoofbeats. She looked up and around to see a zebra striding some distance away. He seemed pretty distracted, and Windsor wasn't sure if he even noticed her. She was walking briskly, and the zebra was working just like her. She squinted, trying to figure out if she knew him or not. It was hard to tell with zebras, but Windsor had a knack for knowing them. After a minute, she finally had it worked out. She believed it was a young zebra by the name of Tarot. A pleasant fellow if she remembered correctly. Desiring a little company, and deciding that she had rested enough to join him, she picked up a swift canter and changed course.

She let out a whinny of greeting as she made her way over to him, and as she drew up next to him, their strides fell in rhythm with each other, until Windsor's large stride made the two uneven. Ears pricked she looked where she was going but cast a glance at the zebra beside her. He had obviously been working hard, good for him. He was another soldier like herself. So many of the horses here believed that life was all about being happy, peaceful and relaxed, to be carefree, was to live. Not in Windsor's books. There were enemies out there, and they would just love the extra food, workforce, and land. A horse is any slave driver's dream, if it can be caught.

And if Only I could.
Make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places....
Be running up that road
Be running up that hill
Be running up that building.

"Hello Tarot," she said between strides. However, for the time being, that was all she could say. Tarot was a tall zebra, maybe fifteen hands, but still a good foot shorter than herself. He was well muscled and strong; the sort of guy a big mare like herself enjoys hanging out with. Feeling a sudden burst of energy, Windsor tossed her head slightly, taking a particularly large, bounding stride of a good sixteen feet for a moment there. Then, she settled back into her fourteen foot swift canter stride.

Though the air bit at her hide, it still felt good to sweat. She had been trying to be careful, but she figured that it was fairly easy to get dried off these days, and she wouldn't get sick and die. She was a tough horse. "How long have you been out? Fancy galloping back? It's a good, mile or two work out from here," she said loftily. She hoped he'd say yes, it was a lot of fun galloping back with a partner; and for some reason, it always turned into a race.

Be running up that hill.
Be running up that hill.
If I only could, be running up that hill.

words; 460
muse; good
notes; :D yay

[Tarot]

Tarot's wide ears swiveled as he was pulled from his straightforward thoughts by a second stride of hoofbeats beside him. Nickering softly in greeting, he recognized the massive equine as Windsor, a tall female. He had a healthy dose of respect for her and her ethics, since she seemed to have the same mindset as he towards working hard for a goal; that was how wars were won, of course.

"Windsor... Fancy seeing you here..." He snorted, his strides loosening some. But he didn't slow by any means; This creature beside him had quite the stride, and it took him extending his limbs and reaching for a larger hoof-full of land to match her. A gallop, she said? Brilliant, actually. "I should probably head in... a gallop sounds delicious." He concluded, raising his voice a little over the pounding of eight hooves. Slowing, he planted his hindquarters into the earth, rounding out his rear and halting his movements. Pivoting, he spun back around, briefly shaking out his mane and snorting heavily to clear his nose. Directing himself towards the castle, he nickered once more at the horse, throwing a tiny buck, before lunging in the new direction, his eyes gleaming. He had sortof given himself a head start, but he had no doubt the long-legged female would swiftly match him. He did, however, have an adantage in stamina and he had a higher concentration of muscle than the horse. Nonetheless, her raw speed would probably even them out.

[Windsor]

Windsor

It doesn't hurt me.
You wanna know how it feels?
You wanna know, know that it doesn't hurt me?

Windsor grinned as Tarot greeted her. He was the royal guard, which was an honorable position for any soldier, and Windsor had a great deal of respect for him; she also knew that he enjoyed a good gallop. She loved his word choice; delicious, well, galloping certainly could be described as that. Just, maybe not literally. As he slowed down, Windsor brought her pace down to a spirited trot, raising her legs high and elegant with each step, her neck arched, tail raised; she probably looked remarkably like an Arabian, but she didn't care. Tarot spun around in a way that only a zebra could, and with a nose clearing snort and a toss of his head, he rocketed off towards the castle. He was never much one for warnings, but since when did anybody give warnings in war?

Windsor turned with much more elegance; she had done her fair amount of spinning, and wanted to be able to say that she had at least looked good turning around. She picked up a brisk trot to start, snapping her legs out in front of her with glorious hang-time that would make the Royalty jealous. She broke into a canter, and went one stride before driving her hind legs into the ground with terrific force, rearing slightly as she launched herself into a gallop, allowing her long stride to eat up the ground between her and the zebra rather than wearing her muscles out. Everybody knew that a zebra could beat an Arabian in a long distance race, but if Windsor was careful, and with her massive stride she was able to balance it out until they got back.

And if Only I could.
Make a deal with God,
And get him to swap our places....
Be running up that road
Be running up that hill
Be running up that building.

After a little while, she pulled up next to him, and though she was focused and driving for the castle, she glanced quickly at her zebra companion, and said with a smirk, "I believe that is called cheating!" she said loudly over the sound of thundering hooves. She meant this jokingly, as she really couldn't have cared less. The pair of equines must have made an impressive sight as they thundered towards the castle. Neither equine was pushing themselves to the max, as they both knew the value of keeping their muscles in tact, and not straining them, but Windsor decided it would be harmless to push the pace. She lengthened her stride, and drove her hind legs into the ground a little harder, pulling ahead of the zebra until she was about half a horse length in front of him, stopping there.

The cold wind whipping at her mane, her eyes gleaming with joy, her hears pricked, tail streaming out behind her and the sound of her hooves smashing into the ground was the most wonderful thing a horse could experience. "AH!" she bellowed joyfully. Then, she found herself almost laughing. "Absolutely delicious!"

Be running up that hill.
Be running up that hill.
If I only could, be running up that hill.

words; 480
muse; good
notes; she's having an awfully good time! xD