Veins run through her arched neck. Light refracts off athletic sheen. Tall and slender, she would have been a former, local runway model.
High strung, she is already a nervous mare. Her owner slaps her mouth frequently which makes her even jumpier, especially around people she doesn’t know. Slow movements, no quick raised hands.
On cross ties, she tosses her head and sways, agitated about being exposed out in the aisle with the chance of being hit.
I approach slowly from the side and pause so she sees me. I place fingers on her lightly, briefly.
A voltaged shiver.