Catherine was being swallowed by Bluma's excitement. Even though the young mare had been born inside the tribe's bran and raised as an obedient tamed horse, it still had an spirit as wild as of those giant newly-tamed brutes and their young riders. She was the only woman there, but she never felt it as a bad thing. Males, mostly the youngers, had that need for speed, and it sure would be pulling them forward. Bluma always was obedient when it was just them two... or four, counting Saw and Seymour. But, when in a group like that, she would have this dominant wave, and she would do whatever it took to be in the front line. Not everything was lost there. Even though Bluma wasn't a very big thread, being mostly the smaller around there, she still had much of stamina. She would sure be the last to start sweating, even more in such a sunny day. Chances were at their side, or at least some.
Seymour and Saw were at home, in the AniWayan lands. Forced to, of course. But if needed, she was sure Saw would pop out of nowhere to stands besides her.
Her attention was called for the pack's leader, denominated as a king. She knew it was an important, imponent name, but still overranked Dawali for her. Politeness, though, would come first, and she kept quiet, listening carefully. When it ended, she heard a female's voice call out a "Good luck", and she knew they all would need. Even thought the grayish female wasn't that familiar with human history, she knew that those races were dangerous, in the professonal level. And those would rise in an amateur case, like that one.
In the end, a booming familiar voice called out, and she smiled when noticing Dawali's greeting. Well, that race would make the bond she started get more prominient, that was for sure. When it end, she would be sure to me diplomatic in greeting the other pack's members. Nothing less than expected.
Her eyes searched, and she found another familiar face. Hemming. The grayish male was there too, holding hands together. Claps? Well, if the others started, she would follow. The odd-colored female wasn't sure how to behave in that situation, and she could understand what the tribe fellow would be feeling.
Scratching the mare's mane, with it's pigtales, feathers and ornaments, she lowered her head to whisper in the animal's ear. Let's do it clear, right? No biting, no quicking, or that sort of thing, 'kay? She warned, knowing the mare would get moody with so many studs around. Even more if those studs would get in her way. The rgwon female whinned and digged the ground with one chocolate hoof, willing. The stripped woman took that as a "yes", and got in position. Lifting herself from the horse's back, bending herself forward, holding the briddle with both hands. The standart position for a speed race. In her mind, she thanked God for finding those books rather intact.
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