Arrow guided her little chestnut pony toward the marked starting line. At the gravel, all four hooves planted firmly. Arrow gripped the reins and whispered, “We can take one step.” The challenge bell rang—cling!—and loose pebbles crunched beneath them.
Arrow loosened the reins and patted the pony’s warm neck. She placed one careful foot ahead. The pony followed with a tiny scrape of hoof. Beyond them, the green paddock fence waited in the sunlight.
A sneeze exploded beside Arrow. “HACHOO!” A nearby bucket rattled against the fence, and Arrow blinked twice before laughing. The pony shook its mane, then carried them toward the first marker.
Arrow climbed into the saddle and asked the pony to walk between two bright cones. The pony veered toward a thick patch of clover. Arrow guided gently back, while leather creaked and grass brushed the pony’s knees.
They reached the second marker one hoofbeat at a time. Arrow kept the reins soft and watched the path ahead. Clop, clop. The pony’s ears pointed forward as the cones slipped behind them.
A low wooden pole waited across the path. The pony stumbled, and Arrow slipped sideways in the saddle. She grabbed the mane, landed safely in soft grass, and stared as dust puffed around her boots. “Oh,” she said.
Arrow stood, brushed grass from her boots, and reached for the reins. She reset the pole across its supports. The pony watched quietly, one hoof lifted beside the rail. Arrow thought, “We can try again.”
Arrow remounted and faced the pole. Together, they stepped over—awkwardly, slowly, with one enormous funny hop. The bell rang! Hooves pattered across the gravel, and Arrow raised the reins, ready for the next challenge.
