“You were the first guy to go onto the fully slick combination. How much of a risk was that early on?”
“Was a little bit difficult, especially on the take the decision. Because was coming some rain from the sea, and you can see no - that was coming some heavy rain. But I say okay I take the risk, because the track was completely dry.”
Loggerheads get their name from their relatively large heads, which support powerful jaws and enable them to feed on hard-shelled prey. From hatching to adulthood, a loggerhead increases its weight more than 6,000 times! Marine debris, fishing gear, and development near their nesting areas remain major issues for loggerheads, but by working together we can help reduce these threats.
The Scorpio Races Festival 2016 - Rider Leah Carsson
Rider Challenge #1: Your Capaill Uisce
It’s midnight when I first see his head emerging from the sea. His fierce, clever eyes focusing on me while his strong, sleek body is cutting soundless through the waves as he rises from the shore. I don’t dare to move. I know any move could be my last.
Never have I been closer to an capall uisce, the deadly water horses of Thisby. Growing up on the small island I should know the risk of the silent october nights. Yet, I am still standing here on the beach with my hands shaking. I can’t remember whether it is because of cold or fear and in this moment I couldn’t care less about that.
The capall is setting confident steps on the smooth sand. His ears pricked back he seems to listen to the sea before I hear him crying out a wail. I can feel it creeping through my bones as I try slowly back away from the tall figure. This is too dangerous to stay any longer. My whole body is screaming to run but I freeze as he turns his head at me. Suddenly, he’s jolting forward, coming right at me. I close my eyes. I am so dead.
When I feel nothing tearing my limbs of my body or digging its teeth into my neck, I sigh out in relieve. Opening my eyes again, I see the capall standing right in front of me. His hot breath is meeting my cold skin. My fingers reach out to touch the small white dot between his brows. He leans into my touch, allowing my hand to slide down on his head. I greet him with a light smile as I say “Welcome back, my friend”.
At the age of ten I saw him the first time in the Killians cove. I was watching him from our house at the cliffs, the rain pouring heavily against the glass of my bedroom window. A young black water horse snaking around on the beach, running his legs out and testing his limits. His dark, short fur clung tight to his muscled frame. His mind, bold and brave, reminds me of a raging storm on high seas. I name him Azzur.
As the years pass by his appearance becomes kind of a ritual. He would rise from the dark ocean to become one with the salty wind on the beach. And every time, I would be watching him. At some nights I could have sworn he sensed my presence, looking up to me crouching on a stone ledge high above him on the cliffs. I know it should have scared me, should have made run and hide under my blankets, but instead the capall stallion sparked something inside of me. A desire I didn’t know before. It lures me to trust him.
I was 13 when I first touched his skin and resisted his siren song to follow him into the depths of the sea.
I was 16 when I rode him on the beach for the first time after he tried to drown us in the waves.
Now, I am 17 and this year I will ride the Scorpio Races for the first time, on a capall uisce I shouldn’t trust and with a wish in my heart that will most likely kill me.
- A/N: This is the first time I participated at The Scorpio Races Festival and also the first time I am writing a story in english, so please be kind with me!
@hereismywriting thank you for creating such art with my words!!! Always an honor to see things like this. Be sure and tag me in your art so I can share it!! Love and light to you and yours🙏💫🙌
My second book, “A Journal From The Sea” is now available to purchase!! Link is in my bio
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