Sweet Poetry //OPEN\\

[lovefjords3]

007; Britain's finest secret agent, licensed to kill.
Mixing business with girls and thrills.

I've a license, I've a license, I've a license to Thrill...

After placing Rocky, Valen and Kem out in the fields, he had saddled up Poet for some practise on the track. The fiery thoroughbred hadn't been out for over six months, and hadn't been ridden for a week. The bay mare eagerly strained against his grip on the reins as she was led toward the track by him. Luke gently halted her and pulled down the stirrups, before grasping her mane and swinging lithely onto her back. He groaned softly as he landed and she immediately began to trot off.

Lucas sharply pulled her to a halt again, adjusted the stirrups to the perfect length and tightened her girth. Once he was all settled, the bay mare took the slight squeeze as her que to move and set off at an energetic walk. He quickly warmed her up with two laps of the circuit and as he rounded the corner for the final time, he lightened his seat and closed his heels to her sides. The thoroughbred mare took off like a bullet from a gun and the older brunette man on her back half-halted her slightly, not wanting her to over-run herself.

Poet flicked her ears back as he did and slowed slightly but stuck to the inner rail as they lapped the ring. Lucas slowly half-halted her down to a rocking canter before slowing her down to a walk. Poet huffed some breaths and stretched out her neck as her jockey relaxed. Lucas' mind wandered slightly as they walked the track, but was suddenly brought back to earth as the bay mare leaped forward into a gallop and then slowed to let out a volley of bucks. The older mane hung on to her as she repeatedly tried to throw him off, "OI!" He growled, snagging the reins next to her bit as she bucked again, flinging him onto her neck.

Lucas grasped them harshly under her chin and pulled her up. Poet shot him a glare that he returned before grasping the reins properly and resuming his seat. Swinging her round on a slightly tighter rein, he looked around to see what had gotten her so bunched up when a horse and rider sped past them making Poet bunch up again and let loose another buck. "Oi!" He warned her again, pulling her up and sitting in the saddle deeply. The bay mare sighed and shook her head before following his directions and turned, trotting after the horse and rider.

Hello Mr Bond, I've been expecting you.
Martini in your hand, and that eyebrow that you move.

I've a license, I've a license, I've a license to Kill

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