Winning Prompt​

How does she feel about water?

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Wraith adores water. I found that out the hard way.

"She's a great all-rounder," They said, "With those long legs, she'd be a fantastic cross country prospect," they said.
So, I had no issues with tacking her up, taking her out to the course. My only other Cross Country competitors were stallions - I'd love to add a mare into the mix. She took to the course like... well, like a duck to water, taking off across the soft, spring grass with a springing gallop, full of the vigour of life. After a few bucks and tugging of reins, she settled right into her stride, flying across the flat section of the course.
And, when I turned her to a jump, she cleared it without so much of a blink, and any worry I had about her spooking at the unusual jumps melted away into excitement. She slid over the tree trunks like there were nothing but a twig upon the ground, bouncing over tires and bush fences like they were nothing but a crosspole in an arena.
My enthusiasm was soaring as we thundered towards the second half of the course, scrambling down a bank with barely a slow of speed. She jumped over a wide ditch with barely any effort, and I don't think I could have stopped her in that moment. Not that I had any desire to. I loved the thrill of cross country, but this was something different. This was like magic.
Bounding over an angle jump, I turned her towards the water, a short jump down, one jump inside and one jump out constituting the water area. To my surprise, she slid to a stop before the jump down, ears pricked to show me that she was studying the area before her. Dropping the reins to allow her to use her nose to explore the jump, I was shot backwards in the saddle like a ragdoll as she took off, plunging over the fence and into the water. As she landed, I jarred down into the saddle, with a guttural noise, losing both of my stirrups in the process. Clinging to the saddle desperately, Wraith tilted, shifting her weight and tossing me into the cold, crisp water. A gasp drew air into my lungs as I clambered to stand, to get myself out of the water. Thoughts of Wraith only crossed my mind when I was standing, my riding clothes dripping with water that only seemed to get colder by the second.
I turned to the cremello mare, only to drop my head into my hands.
She was laying down in the water, shaking her nose to create waves and splashes. She was clearly getting as much enjoyment out of this as she had the journey here, except now, my clothes and her tack were ruined. I walked over dejectedly, taking the reins in my hands, but she refused to budge, shooting me a saddened look when I tried to get her to stand. Begging, I tugged again, and she stood, dejectedly, pawing with the water before following me to the stables.
Water troughs, buckets, puddles, hoses.
Nothing is safe when Wraith is around. She'll find her way to get as much of herself as she can inside, and if she can't get in, she'll find a way to get the water out. It's impossible to keep her clean... ever, because her pelt is constantly either mud-stained or damp.
Show jumping was a much drier career option.