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SwiftAway

The talk among the crowds was loud and sometimes containing hoots and hollers for their favorites. Four horses were inching their way along the track at a walk, or what was supposed to be a walk. Most were prancing, hips swinging and heads jerking at each little clang of a stirup or shift in the winds. A typical racing day to most, but for the little town of SwiftAway a day to remember. The first race ever since the comings of all the hyper-active racers and their owners. And as the first horse loaded, the crowds seemed to hush and eyes turn to the first horse. Fate having said so, Driven to Insanity had drawn the first slot. She was being ridden by a new jockey, unnamed and only to be in town for a few days anyhow, and it was obvious he was losing the battle. Throwing her hooves out, a neigh exploded from her as she saw another horse in the distance, as if calling for them to save her. This was the mare's first race, so she knew little of much. Rearing and pulling at the bit violently, she began to run in a tight circle even before her front hooves hit the ground, attempting to confuse the rider so he'd maybe just give an inch of rein and let her gallop away. Her black mane and tail flew about, and her bay pelt shimmered in the rising sun. Hopes were falling low, and finally a man in a suit looking rather disgruntled walked out, and clipping a shiny metal chain to her, he gave a guick snap of the lead rope and she soon easily followed. A stud chain may have seemed a bad thing to use, but tension was mounting and her antics were just making the others act up more. The gate swinging shut behind her, the next horse was immediatly led up. The mare Vindicated Memory, her own buckskin pelt bedazzling the crowd as she moved her hindquarters about in a long circle, eager to run yet not so much to load into the starting gate. A tug on her lead rope moved her foward a step, but when she realized what that step meant, the whites of her eyes showed and she pulled up into a half-rear, annoying the starters and not to mention give rope burns on all of their hands. She made many frights and spooks, and only after fourteen minutes of rearing and kicking and squealing had they gotten her into the gate. In the gate, she kicked and tossed her head and foamed at the mouth, though managed not to hurt herself as much as she could have. The third horse, Blinding Blur, moved along with a sort of knowing look. Giving only a single buck and a nip at the nearest handler to show he was still the boss, he loaded into the gates easily. Last to load, Miss Topanga. She went in nicely with only a slight pause in her prance upon sighting the gate, but soon she was in. The starters waited in a deafening silence for all horses to be still, and once they were the bell clanged and the track was laid out open and untamed before them...

They're off!