Genevieve Mckay

“energy.” Reluctantly, I shifted my seat bone back a hair and Folly rewarded me with a large buck and a leap to the right that nearly tore my arms from their sockets, before surging into a canter. Even though it was terrifying and pretty much out of control, for a moment, I could feel why everyone thought Folly was a great horse. She propelled us forward across the area like a Pegasus, all power and wind and terrifying speed. If she hadn’t also been trying to kill me, it would have been amazing. Cole shouted some things I couldn’t hear, and I just concentrated on staying upright and keeping Folly turning in smaller figure eight circles in the hopes that she’d eventually tire herself out and stop. Every time we switched directions, she surged forward with her ears pinned into what was either a buck or a lead change, I couldn’t quite tell. All I knew was that when she eventually slowed to a jarring trot of her own accord, we were both covered in sweat and exhausted. Folly’s ears sagged to the sides and there were big strands of sweaty foam lathering her neck.”
― Genevieve Mckay, Defining Gravity