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The First Flight — Description

Little Library Tour 2.0!!! This was such a fun entry to do, it has been so long since I have done a full picture in black and white, and oh my lord it was difficult trying to make everything stand out! (Why didn't I bring a grey horse ;D). But this was excellent fun, shout out to every brick in the wall and the funky dragon in the clouds.
-Show: The Little Library Tour
-Horse name and reference: Master of Tides
-Rider: Tristan Ennerstone
-Class: 2nd Leg, Showjumping
-Stable: Western RidgeRunner
-Extra image: N/A
-Placing: 4th
-Story:
The Bridgerton oriented show had been an absolute success, even Tristan had to admit it. Tide’s first major show outside of his training work, and the stallion had absolutely lapped up the attentions of the audience. His temperament had been absolutely ideal, and Tristan could not have been more thrilled. Of course, he was absolutely aware that said show was one of a series of four - the next was a showjumping competition based around a book called Fourth Wing? Tristan wasn’t much for reading, but a brief investigation of the wiki page informed him that it had something to do with dragons.
As far as he was concerned, it was another opportunity to have the black stallion go out into the world and continue with the development of his burgeoning career. He was, by all means, a canny showjumper and cross country horse, that was why he had chosen Tide in the first place…
Fog smothered the deep green grass, laden with the moist dew that had not cleared from the morning, just as the sun had not burned through the heavy grey cloud cover which roiled and rolled over the distant dark mountains, a constant, certain threat of rain. Thick pine trees swayed with a faint breeze that explored the leaves and winding paths of the nearby forest. Jump poles lightly rocking in their cups. The parapet stood tall. Imposing. A huge grey wall that posed a staggering challenge to any pair who dared to make it their adversary.
The shining black stallion stood at the entrance, muscles trembling as he blew out air in a great huff, eyeing the sight before him, the bit clinking quietly in his mouth as he surveyed the trial set out in front of him. His rider was experienced, and the horse felt a gentle pressure against his sides, encouraging him into a loping canter as he moved sleekly between the fences, arching his neck over as the fog swirled between his legs. As the bell rung - a shrill, clamorous sound to the stallion, he glanced over, before feeling the bit jog gently in his mouth to regain his attention.
As they turned, the parapet approached, the stallion’s ears flicking forward and backward, uncertain of the enormous grey wall. The pressure returned to his sides. A breath of warm air that turned to white steam in the cold. Three strides. Two strides. One stride. The rippling of muscle as the black steed launched himself to the sky, with the fog clinging to his legs like spider webs.