Heart Of A Champion

[°∞ßlûē•ßãbÿ•Døll∞°]

More than 3 thousand years ago, a man named Jobe. Complained to God about his all troubles, and the bribe tells us that God answered.. " Do you give the horse his strength. Or cloth his neck with a flowing mane. Do you make him leap like a lociest; striking terror with his proud smarting. He paws feriously. Reguicing in his strength. Then charges into the fray. He laughs at fear, affraid of nothing. He does not shy away from the sword. The quiver raddles against his side, along with the flashing spear and glance. In a frency excitement, he eats up the ground. He can not stand still.. When the trumpit sounds. "

Sounds of hooves echoed in the tunnel as he was lead down onto the racetrack. Black Reaper trotted slowly out into the field, the jokey on his back; Roney lead him into the fray shortly after very one else was. They locked the gate behind Black. " There at the post. Black Reaper rose his head just a bit." the announcer called. Roney gripped tightly on the reins. As the bell rang, Black Reaper breaks last from the pack. Sham in the lead. as he was moving at the turn, Sham was working into strong postion. Black still at the end of the pack. Black Reaper lacking in the back, " I'm sick of this dirt. Lets give them what they're waiting for." Roney said into Blacks ear. Black Reaper began to gain speed, he passed up the horses. Neck to neck with Sham. Black Reaper on the outside, he gains speed. As he passed the finish line, Black staggered to stop. He snorted. Sham stopped by his side, looking over at him. " You did good. But next race, your gonna eat my dust." Black snarled, " Bring it." Sham grunted and trotted forward. Black Reaper turned and went was lead into his stall.

[Man O' War Lover]

Would you like me to take a whack at it? I'm a sucker for horse racing. If so I just wanted to know if you wanted it to be in the pov of a horse?

[°∞ßlûē•ßãbÿ•Døll∞°]

Surez

[Man O' War Lover]

Shy was my name, I was a dark bay filly with a course black main and tail. Though I was no beauty queen I had talent. Early speed and late endurance. I was told I had a pretty head though and large light dark eyes reflecting my spirit. I had a record of four starts and three wins, and one second. I had come from a small farm in Florida and started making my way from there. Racing was my job and it was what I was born to do. My full brother Saber was my shadow, every where I went every one said there goes Saber's sister, only because they knew of Saber. Saber was a black stallion and a champion I was an outcast and nerve racking. I hated starting gates but loved the crowed. I didn't dance before races and didn't pull off any crazy stunts. I was a neat little race horse who loved clean fair races. I didn't toy with competition like my brother did. At the moment I was boarded at Churchill Downs waiting for my next race to come around. That morning I was making may way to the main track preparing for a training session. I had no training buddies today and didn't need to use the gate. My trainer just wanted a slow galloped out of me for a mile. It was an odd workout request but I walked slowly onto the track my rider relaxed in the saddle. I looked in all directions searching for stable companions that I recognized or knew. As my rider signaled me into a trot we made out way over to the first quarter pole. Coming to a stop I was turned around to face the direction we had come from. Waiting...

I hope thats good)

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