Fernando grips the leather reins, his knuckles white against the dark horse’s neck as they approach the first wooden tire obstacle. The coarse bristles of the saddle prick his palms, grounding him in the moment before he leans forward. He urges the horse onward, eyes locked on the path ahead.
The horse’s hooves clatter over the dirt track, kicking up a cloud of fine, dry dust that coats Fernando’s cheeks. He holds his breath, feeling the rhythmic bounce of the ride beneath him. He whispers a steady command to keep the animal focused on the jump.
They clear the first tire with a soft thud, then immediately face a steeper incline lined with loose stones. Fernando shifts his weight, feeling the rough texture of the stirrup irons under his boots. He takes a deep breath, smelling the pine needles in the air, and prepares for the next challenge.
At the final loop, the horse hesitates, ears pinned back at a sudden rustle in the bushes. Fernando doesn't pull back; instead, he pats the horse’s sweaty neck gently. A small squirrel darts across their path, causing the horse to snort and leap cleanly over the last obstacle.
Fernando slows the horse to a walk, the cool breeze drying the sweat on his forehead. He looks around at the quiet woods, smiling as he strokes the horse’s mane. This is the place where everything feels right.