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IP2012 Barrel Weave


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"Well, well, well, you sound confident. Line up and when I blow the whistle, go."

"Yeah, yeah..." Gilda said dismissively as she shook her head. As if that wasn't obvious. This was far from her first time in a competition. Griffons were generally a physical bunch, much more so than ponies at least. Challenges of speed, agility, strength and grace were held regularly in Aquelia. They had events similar in concept to this, just usually on wing rather than foot. Gilda had been in a few and did pretty good before. Considering how desperately she wanted this, she was pretty sure this event was hers to claim.

She kicked her back feet in the dirt as she waited for the whistle. When the screech of the whistle finally did come, she pushed herself powerfully ahead into a powerful run toward the first of the ten colorful barrels. She rushed toward it at an angle, going around it smoothly and altering her direction without losing a second's speed. The first weave was easy as the barrels were quite far apart. Before she even knew it, she was around the second barrel and turning smoothly to face the third.

The third barrel was closer, but as far as Gilda was concerned it was still kiddy stuff. She was sure of her steps and not afraid to cut things a little close to save a little time if need be. She wasn't afraid of this game. It wasn't going to beat her. There was far too much pride on the line. She had come all the way to this town she so despised and it was all to prove that she was unquestionably the best. As she passed the third barrel by, only an inch separating it and her, she felt she was living up to just that. None of these lame ponies or their silly Iron Pony events could hold her back now.

Gilda made her turn quickly and started running toward the fourth barrel. She had expected something of a reprieve after the third, but no, this was even tighter and Gilda needed some fancy footwork to save her from colliding with the bright red barrel. She just barely managed to shift the weight of her body at the right time to avoid the collision, but for the first real time in the race, she had lost her momentum and more importantly, some valuable time. Luckily, the fifth barrel was another fairly simple one. Gilda had plenty of space to regain her steady pace swerve around it and turn toward the sixth.

Unfortunately for her, the sixth was downright cruel. Gilda was suddenly reminded of a very important fact of life and nature that she had somehow overlooked. In addition to being stronger, fiercer, swifter, smarter, cooler and just all around better than ponies, griffons were also bigger. Being this event was obviously designed for ponies, it went without saying that as difficult as these turns were on their own, for her they were even more difficult. The distance between the fifth and sixth barrels wasn't even greater in length than Gilda was from head to tail. To make such a break-neck turn, Gilda had to kill her momentum almost entirely and then start again.

The griffon cursed as she made it around the barrel. She hadn't hit anything yet as far as she was aware, but she was losing serious time with some of these barrels and there were still four left to pass. The seventh kinda sucked, but compared to what came before it, it was actually kind of a reprieve. Gilda wasn't going fast enough for the turn to be so difficult, so she made it and rushed ahead past the barrel, building speed. She continued toward the eighth barrel with a smirk on her face. This one was another easy one. In fact, there was more distance between the seventh and eighth than any that came before.

Gilda was tempted to launch into her full speed to pass it, but she was pretty sure this was a trick. In an event like this they were obviously going to save the hardest stuff for the very end. She ran ahead swiftly, but watching herself. As she passed the barrel, she smiled, pleased to see she was right. The ninth barrel was closer than any that came before it. Gilda was ready for it though, and even though there was hardly room for her to even run between the two barrels, she swerved artfully through them, confident she hadn't touched either.

All that was left was the last barrel, and while one might expect this to be the most difficult, after the rest, it was pretty easy. The gap was small, but the griffon powered through, shifting herself just right to avoid grazing this final green barrel. She had come so far on her determination. Failure this late in the game wasn't an option. Emerging past the final barrel, she turned one last time and made the final swift and desperate dash toward the finish, bounding ahead as she crossed.

Coming to a stop, she collected her breath and raised a talons to wipe the sweat out of her feathery crest. The event had been more difficult than she had anticipated, but in its wake, she felt pretty good about her run. There had been a few difficult spots, but that was the point of the game, wasn't it? Smirking confidently, she glanced toward the crowd and gave a cocky nod before extending her wings fully and giving a sharp victorious roar.

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Mojo

FIRST POST

"I'm normally not a competitive pony, but this race looks groovy! I'll give it a go!" the Paint stallion with the peace sign cutie mark said as he approached the Start Line. "Some of me other pals are havin' a jolly good time with Iron Pony. I'm gettin' some good vibes from this Barrel Weave course. Winnin' this event might even get me some more business for me peddler's wagon! Bet I could sell some nice laval lamps, mood bracelets and pop art to this gallery of spectators if I do well on the course."

Mojo began to limber up. The hippie brony's always been in good shape from years of working on the family farm. He started his warm up by stretching out his hind leg hamstrings, then his forelegs in similar fashion. This he quickly followed up by trotting in place for a few moments.

Now Mojo was ready, ready to give it his all on the Barrel Weave course.

All he needed was the signal to begin.

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*First post for judging*

Harrington Sleuth approached the entrance to the contest area, where the rules were posted plain as day. Shouldn't be too hard, he thought even though he also went into other contests with the same motivation.

He started working out how he would approach the course. He could try to zip through it as fast as he could and hope he didn't hit anything, but his frame posed a problem with the speed-weaving approach. Five seconds sounded like a lot of time when it wouldn't take him near that long to pass through and move on, especially considering those penalties stacked. Also, tripping would incur five seconds plus lost time from recovery. He figured he wouldn't take it quite as fast as he could go once he weighed the disadvantages of barreling through. He planned to focus on maintaining an efficient, safe line while keeping a decent pace.

He stepped up to submit himself to the nearest available official. It took him a moment for him to get his mind off of daydreams depicting him standing atop the podium after the event as the same official he faced christened his neck with the award.

"I would like to participate in this race as well," he said, laughing a little bit. Hope I can still keep a hold on my wings until after the finish.

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"You hit a barrel too, didn't you? Without that you'd have come in just a hair faster than me. But yeah, it wasn't that bad of an event."

Douglas looked over at the Pegasus and joined him in his laugh. "Sure as shoot, lucky I didn't plow it right over!" he said, bringing a calm smile to his face. "The Name's Douglas Trotter, by the way. Nice to meet you!" Douglas introduced himself, figuring it better than leaving them to read it off the board. "Ah must say, this is my first Iron Pony competition. Shoot, last time ah was even 'in' Ponyville was durin' Nightmare Night last year. Ah certainly didn't expect to find 'this' when ah showed up today."

Douglas turned his gaze to the course as he watched the Griffon more or less charge through the event. 'I jus' know I'll remember 'er the moment I leave town...' he thought as she finished the race. He slowly turned his view toward the attendant who he realized he didn't get the name of yet. 'I can't wait to see what kind of time she had.'

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Light cringed when he heard the judge call him "squirt." He wasn't that tiny. Infact he was one of the taller ponies in his school. This competition was more than getting awards, it was a chance to prove to himself that he could be seen a strong pony.

He lined up and awaited for Hinds to blow the whistle.

At it's soun, the unicorn charged forward as he rounded the first barrel. He knew that with each weave he'd be losing speed, so it was nesceeary to gofast from one barrel to the next abnd then be careful when weaving. The first one, although rough, did go pretty easy and he was able to weave between the first and the second without losing much time.

The third barrel Light noticed was closer then the first two, yet it wasn't too hard to negotiate. He was doing pretty well with conering almost a third of the course. Suddenly the fourth barrel came up suddenly. Light had to break and turn so that he didn't crash into the barrel. Doing so made him lose his balance, but thankfully he did not fall as he righted himself and procceeded towards the fifth. Thankfully the fifth was an easy reprieve for the unicorn as he weaved around it.

The area between the fifth and sixth was another small space. To an adult pony, this would provve hard, but to Light the size was perfect and he was able to scoot through without losing his momentum. As he reached the seventh, he was pleased that although it wasn't the easiest one, it was still better than the nasty ones like the fourth or the sixth. He smiled as the eighth was farther away allowing him to keep galloping and fly around the barrel.

The ninth was another one that creeped up on him... if he hadn't predicted that this course was going to have at least one more surprise to throw at him. He did lose some speed , but then regained it when he saw the tenth was a surprisingly easy shot. He used the last of his energy to go around the tenth and final barrel. Exiting the weave, he straightened out and ran as fast as he could to the finish line. Coming to a stop, the unicorn colt stood, panting yet satisfied at his accomplishment.

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"Mhm." Flying Brick just nodded at Wind Rider's assessment. That might explain her odd performance spread, actually; she took all her unfamiliar events first. The later events, which she was technically better at, had to deal with all that built-up fatigue that she hadn't rested out.

Well, she had to learn that lesson sometime. "Thanks. Hoofington, eh? I'm from Stalliongrad, if the accent did not tell you. I'm here mostly to, well, see if if I can get by as an independent acrobat. Acrobats don't get far in my hometown if they're not connected to the official system." She spoke the words with a grimace, as if the concept left a sour taste in her mouth. "I'm more used to city venues, in any case. I may end up on the streets of your city eventually; hopefully as a touring performer, and not a tramp." She would have moved in closer to talk to the pegasus, but she felt just a little too tired and sore to get up yet.

Thus it was that Douglas returned. She acknowledged him with a nod, not trusting herself to speak yet. Also, she was currently distracted in watching the performance of the Griffon, which was quite frankly impressive. Flying Brick did muster the energy to beat her hooves against the earth a few times in applause, but the effort shortly petered out. "That's Gilda." She told the two by her. "She's going to be quite cocky after that, I'm afraid." She sighed and looked down at herself. "Perhaps I better go, she's not the sort to be kind to losers."

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Electric nodded, and she walked up to her position. Taking a deep breath, she crouched into a starting position, feeling ready to run. She was still a bit nervous after watching the competition, but she had to do this. She continued to breathe steadily as she heard the countdown to begin the event. Her eyes gazed intently at the upcoming barrels, feeling more confident with every second.

At the sound of the whistle being blown, Electric took off at a trot, focused completely on the barrels in front of her. Her legs moved at a rapid pace as she neared the first barrel in line. With her front hooves, she curved her torso, placing her at the side of the barrel, and wove quickly in between the first and second barrels. She quickly glanced at the third as soon as she was out from the first weave.

Happy at being able to pass the first weave, Electric frowned again. It was only the first weave and she still had more weaving to do, so she stayed alert, approaching the next weave. She quickly leaned to the left as she approached the incoming barrel from the right, and she accidentally took a step too far, her coat centimeters from making contact with the barrel. Electric hissed slightly, but she knew that getting stressed would only hinder her chances at winning. She quickly made her way out of the second weave, approaching the next barrel from the opposite side, on the left.

Electric gritted her teeth as she realized that the weave were getting noticeably harder with each completed weave. She glared at the incoming weave, as it was a tighter fit than the last two. She rushed a bit further away from the barrels as she got closer, and made a sharp turn, digging her right hoof into the ground and swiveling into place between the barrels. She inhaled deeply and ran directly to the other side of the barrels, right through the tight space, and to the right of the line of barrels.

The pegasus gave a sigh of relief as the upcoming weave was wider, and seemed quite easy compared to the last one, and she gave a quick sprint through the two barrels. However, her eyes widened at the sight of the next weave. It was even tighter than the third weave, and Electric knew she would have to slip through this if she was to have a chance, yet the sight of this challenge made her wonder how much harder the next few weaves would be. She stepped with her two front hooves and slid carefully into the gap. As soon as she was sure that she wouldn’t be able to touch the barrels, she made a break for it and ran out of there. It certainly wasn’t as fast as the other weaves, but at least she avoided contact with the barrels.

The next one was a complete breeze, and she zipped through with ease, giving her some time to relax after that deathly close gap. She then approached the eighth and ninth barrels. Electric sighed, as she was nearing the end, and trotted safely through the gap, which wasn’t too close, but wasn’t too wide, and she soon came across the hardest one yet, which almost made her stop in her tracks. It seemed only a few centimeters wider than the width of her torso. Electric huffed a bit in agitation, and she quickly stepped into the gap without running. Then she stepped out of the gap, as if she was stepping from one room to the other.

She then made a wild dash towards the finish line, and sat down onto the ground as soon as she made it out. She felt more stressed than fatigued after those sharp turns and tight gaps. She waited for the results patiently, hoping that the amount of stress she caused herself wasn’t for nothing.

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Hind was pleased to see such enormous success from a wide array of talent, and this griffon had not let him down in the slightest. She was, in a single phrase, wicked cool. He wrote down her wicked time and nodded, pleased.

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The little squirt had tried his darnedest, and for his part hadn't done too poorly. His small legs didn't give him the same speed or agility, but his size allowed him to do very well for one his age. Hind wrote the time down with a smile, happy that he didn't have to deal with a crying colt worried over a splinter in a barrel.

Hind didn't really like his nephew.

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Earth ponies sometimes were rightfully accused of delighting in the misfortune of their more gifted brothers and sisters who with such ease could fly or cast spells. Sometimes, even Hind could be guilty of this crime. Even if he was in the mood, however, Electric had given him nothing to gloat about. She had made an excellent run and he begrudgingly wrote her time down.

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Finished, he started to walk over to the scoreboard to place them when he noticed a few more contestants making their way up to the stage. Fresh meat for the slaughter, eh? That Griffon would certainly have loved the phrase.

"You two ready to run?" He motioned to Mojo and Harrington Sleuth before tossing his head to the start of the finish line. "When I blow this whistle, you run. Got it?" Hind said, his voice losing some of its previous luster as he trotted back up to his position. When the duo were ready to run, he wasted no time.

"Get ready! Get set!"

He blew the whistle.

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Electric Vibe sighed, and she waited patiently for the results. That barrel weave wasn't very easy at all. Although it didn't take as much energy out of competitors than some of the other competitions did, it took quite a bit of quick thinking and precision. It was quite stressful for her when she came across the tighter gaps, and she nearly had a heart attack at the shock she took in, but luckily, she had managed to make it through without touching a barrel. Though what she worried about most was her time. It took her a little bit of time to squeeze through those tight weaves, and Electric frowned as she realized that she could've taken much less time doing that. But then again, doing that could've very much cost her a penalty for touching a barrel, or she could've even knocked over a barrel! She would much rather have gotten a longer time than a disqualification, and she was glad for the decision she made.

"Ah, now I just have to worry about my results..."

Electric then took the time to think about the other competitors. The griffon who went at the same times as her seemed like she did pretty well. However, she sounded a bit cocky as well, but that didn't really bother Electric. She would often act somewhat like that too occasionally. She winced as she realized that she could've been beaten pretty bad b the griffon, judging from the looks of other ponies, but Electric wasn't too much of an athlete as the griffon seemed to be. Sure, she would work out every so often (Often to get rid of added on weight from eating too many sweets), and she trained up quite a bit, but athletics weren't really her strongest suit.

The young colt seemed not too shabby as well. He seemed like he did rather well too, judging from the proud look he gave once he finished.

She then turned her attention to the other two competitors who had just lined up, and she was curious as to how well they would do. She might even decide to stay, just to see how they matched up with the other scores.

Electric then turned her attention back to where the scores would be posted, and her heart thumped quite rapidly. She looked confident on the outside, looking completely calm, but on the inside, she was shaking, a bit scared to see the results. She struggled to pull herself together, and she resorted to taking deep breaths. How did I do? Ugh...what if I did the worst out of the three? This is killing me!

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Hind smiled as he put up both scores. Very, very nice.

1- Gilda, 25.1 seconds.

2- Electric Vibe, 26.2 seconds.

3- Douglas Trotter, 28.34 seconds

4- Wind Runner, 29.01 seconds

5- Flying Brick, 31.90 seconds- Disqualified

"Best runs so far!"

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After giving her roar, Gilda laughed and turned around. She felt victorious, but it was just a feeling until she knew the facts. She had moved fast, but she did still have to take some barrels slower than she would have liked. She was very curious to see how it was scored. Hopefully the pony judging this one wasn't as lame as certain unicorns judging other events. It all depended on his eyes and his clock, after all.

As she moved back toward the official, she glanced toward the two who had run at the same time as her. One was a unicorn colt who didn't look like the sort of prime physical specimen one would expect in this kind of event, but looked like he had at least given it his all. The other was a white pegasus who seemed rather pleased with her run as well. Compared to the two, Gilda was pretty confident she had had the best run.

Returning to the starting line, Gilda nodded to the official. "So, what's the time?" she asked.

"Best runs so far!"

The pony said with some enthusiasm Gilda was a little unsure, afraid one of the other two might have beaten her. As she was showed her time, however, a smile appeared. Not only had she beaten those two, but she was currently top of the pack. She smirked, confident in herself and nothing but pleased with her accomplishment.

Unfortunately, it came with a rather unfortunate realization. The list so far was rather short. There was no telling who might still compete in the event. Pathfinder, Rainbow Dash... any number of other qualified and capable rivals could still compete and excel. Her run was finished and recorded. All the power was out of her talons now, and while she had done well, the possibility of someone coming along who was just a little better was very real.

Still this was a good moment; one for her to be happy with. Nodding she gave a laugh. "Ha! That's right. Gilda's at the top! As if it could be any other way!" the griffon said with an enthusiastic pump of her talon. "Future Iron Griffon, standing right here!"

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"That's Gilda. She's going to be quite cocky after that, I'm afraid. Perhaps I better go, she's not the sort to be kind to losers."

That's when realization finally hit Douglas like a brick. 'That's where I remember her!' he thought. His eyes opened wide as it came to him. 'That' Griffon. "Yeah, ah raced against her last year. The first Griffon to ever enter the Running of the Leaves! She was an absolute beast there too." Douglas said, figuring it polite not to mention her less than honorable moments from that day. Now remembering the Griffon, there was no questioning why she dominated the charts. Although Douglas had a little smile in knowing he'd have edged her out if he didn't touch that one barrel.

That's when the mare suggested that she had better go. He quickly glanced at the board to get her name before voicing his opinion. "Ah don't think that's necessary Miss... Brick. Although if you feel comfortable with it, maybe the three of us could continue this little chatter someplace else." Douglas suggested.

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SECOND POST TO JUDGE

Mojo stood at the Start Line giving the barrel weave course one last look. Ten barrels of various colors all equally distant apart, stood in the Paint stallion's way. He knew he had to be fast to best the scores of the swifter contestants who had gone before him, but he also realized the importance of running the course CORRECTLY. Having the fastest time means nothing if penalties take him out of the running for a medal. Mojo could hear the excitement of the crowd, the cheering of the auidence gathered around but he tried to filter all of that out to remain focused on his goal of running a swift, clean barrel weave. All these thoughts raced through the hippie brony's mind as Hind blew the whistle to start the race.

Off Mojo galloped with the first barrel in his sights. Gritting his teeth and with a determined look on his face, the Paint stallion successfully ran past Barrel number one.

"One down, nine to go," he thought as he trotted towards the next barrel. Leaning in as he made his turn around it, Mojo noticed with great alarm that his head came within inches of touching it as he passed.

"Not cool, that turn was too ruddy tight! Gotta watch that if I wanna clean score," the galloping stallion thought as he neared the third barrel, this time, making a slightly wider turn to avoid it. Mojo negotiated the third and fourth barrel with ease before reaching the fifth barrel. As he had with the second barrel, the hippie brony came dangerously close to touching it, so close that drops of sweat flying off the panting pony's head landed on the brightly colored barrel.

"Dash it all! That was too close for comfort," Mojo said to himself while running at full gallop to Barrel number six. As cheers arose from the crowd, the determined Paint stallion rounded the turn to pass the sixth obstacle with relative ease. Four more barrels! The race was over half way done!

Kicking up a small cloud of dust as he ran, the Pony of Peace managed to round the seventh barrel with room to spare.

"Oh rubbish! That turn was too wide! Losing seconds, gotta do better on these last ones!" he thought as he came in a bit tighter while passing Barrel number eight. Now the adrenalin was taking over! Mojo could almost SMELL that Finish Line up ahead! This made the Paint stallion gallop that much faster as he approached the next to last barrel. His swift pace was taking its toll on the Earth Pony's body, his panting became more labored as he passed the ninth barrel.

"That's the barrel I'm lookin' for up ahead!" Mojo almost said outloud as the hard charging brony spotted that last barrel on the course. The Paint stallion's ears filtered out the ever louder roar coming from the audience as he started to make his final turn. Those vital seconds seemed like an eternity to him. He could hear each pounding sound his hooves made, see the wood grain of the painted barrel he was trotting around. As if in slow motion, Mojo gasped as he felt several strands of his brown mane gently brush the top of the barrel as he passed it. Barely noticable to the cheering crowd or race judges, but not to the Pony of Peace who was happy the barrel didn't budge or topple. Giving one last burst of speed, the hippie brony let out a shout as his front hooves touched the white Finish Line. THERE! The race was done! A good, clean run!

Mojo slowed his pace to a gentle stop, panting hard as he stood triumphant. He had no idea what his time was. All he knew is, he gave it his all.

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(Third Post)

Guiding Light was happy that he was able to catch his breath after the event. It was challenging for a unicorn to participate in a competition like that, especially since he was just a colt. But for better or for worse, he completed it. Now all he had to do was wait for the results.

:I wonder where I'm going to be on the chart," he said as he looked at the rankings that was growing with each new particpant. In reality he was happy he was able to finish it. His rank would be just icing on the cake, especially if it was in the top three. There was a good chance that it was as he didn't fall or hit a barrel and he did not use magic. The only thing against him would be his speed or lack there of.

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Hind had no hesitation as he placed Guiding Light's time on the scoreboard. It was a good time for a colt, and even better time for a unicorn.

1- Gilda, 25.1 seconds.

2- Electric Vibe, 26.2 seconds.

3- Douglas Trotter, 28.34 seconds

4- Wind Runner, 29.01 seconds

5- Guiding Light, 29.80 seconds

6- Flying Brick, 31.90 seconds- Disqualified

"Who knows, maybe when you're older you could even win this thing."

-------

Hind had watched Mojo's run with keen interest, ready to see an Earth pony show everyone else whatfor. What followed was a solid run without any extreme error that did the job while also making Hind worried. He looked down at the time and then back at Mojo, nodding slowly.

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THIRD POST

Mojo had given it his all. The Paint stallion was panting hard, his multi-colored coat wringing with sweat as he stood on his four wobbly feet. Spotting a bucket of water nearby, the hippie brony dashed over to dunk his head in it before taking a few quick sips.

"Groovy! That really hit the spot, it did!" Mojo neighed in his slight British accent. Picking up the bucket with his mouth, the tired Earth Pony heaved it upward slightly to splash more of the cool, sparkling water over his head and onto his back. OH did that feel SO GOOD! For the first time, he allowed himself to listen to the cheering crowd. The Paint stallion's head turned slowly as he gazed upward into the stands and spotted row after row of happy, cheering ponies. Ponies of all ages, types and coat colors, Earth ponies, Unicorns and Pegasi, all shouting with glee and stomping their front hooves in applause. Mojo knew they weren't just cheering for him but for all of the competitors in the race, but soon the hippie brony felt compelled to respond in kind. Stomping his tired front hooves and cheering with the throng, Mojo wanted to show HIS appreciation for them as well.

"Jolly good show! HOORAY for the Iron Pony Barrel Weavers! THANKS EVERY PONY! LOVE YA ALL!" the Paint stallion happily shouted out. When the cheering died down, Mojo turned and looked up towards the event Leader Board, patiently waiting for his time to be posted. It was then he saw that the top time so far belonged to Gilda, the griffin.

"Whoa! That babe sure had a fast time! Hope mine was better!"

His eyes were now fixed on the Leader Board as he nervously waited for the results of his own run to be posted.

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*Second post for judging*

"You two ready to run?" Harrington nodded and approached the starting line, hunching into position. "When I blow this whistle, you run. Got it?" Harrington again confirmed his understanding and was anxious as he waited for the starting whistle.

Just keep your wits about you...keep track of the line...don't hit anything, barrel or otherwise...decent pace, don't panic if you seem slower...

The whistle blared into his ear, and he launched himself out of the starting gate and toward the first barrel. He sprinted for the first stretch since there were no adjustments to worry about for the short piece of obstacle-free territory. When he reached the first barrel, he slowed down a little, moved outside to set up and, when the space was clear for him to see how well he could make it, darted straight through the gap and to the other side to set up for the next turn. "Easy enough. Just don't mess up and everything should be alright."

The second barrel was set up away from the third barrel similar in distance to the length between the first and the second. He took about the same turn as the first time, though his heart rate spiked as he realized how close he was to touching the barrel. He slowed down a little more to set up better for the next gap. He glimpsed down at the rest of the course to plan his line for the rest of the race as he continued to the third barrel. "How to do this, how to do this," he said as he entered the next gap.

He weaved past the third barrel much safer than the last time, but it was at this point he noticed the pattern in the arrangement as he checked again to see if and how his line needed to change. "No wonder ponies were having a tough time dodging these barrels; each gap is narrower than the last one!" he noted aloud. The differences weren't very significant through the first three barrels, but as he went around the fourth, he cut it close again and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest again. "Should I run faster? I wonder how the other pony is doing..."

I have to stay on with my course. I might panic and slip up if I check on his progress.

Harrington ran on around the fifth barrel and sped up a slight bit just in case for the second half. He widened his turns a little as well to adjust to his faster rate to play it safe, though he began worrying about his time at this point. Even if it was a clean run so far, the griffon atop the standings didn't incur any penalties, either. "No, I already decided I would do what it takes to make a clean run, even if it means sacrificing a little speed. It shouldn't take a total of five seconds more to mind the gaps than to rush through them." He maintained a fair pace without going into a full sprint to give himself time to see the gap coming.

He dodged the sixth, seventh and eighth barrels with apparent ease, though he felt like only molecules of air separated himself and the ninth barrel as he had his closest encounter of the race. He focused harder on swerving around the final barrel with as much ease and speed as possible to keep his mind off of what nearly happened. He curved around the tenth barrel, minding the gap even though it wasn't as tight as the middle section, and powered through to the finish line.

"I hope I barreled through there with a fast enough time...there were some close shaves, but I don't think I had any time added from penalties..." He breathed a sigh of relief that he stuck out his plan. He watched the leaderboard once he caught his breath from the run, anticipating his time. It might have seemed like time slowed down in there, but his mind might have just been doing that to him and it really wasn't quite that long.

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Hind placed Mojo's time on the board with a slight degree of disgust.

1- Gilda, 25.1 seconds.

2- Electric Vibe, 26.2 seconds.

3- Douglas Trotter, 28.34 seconds

4- Mojo, 28.95 seconds

5- Wind Runner, 29.01 seconds

6- Guiding Light, 29.80 seconds

7- Flying Brick, 31.90 seconds- Disqualified

"An Earth Pony should be middlin' about, Mojo. Good run, though," Hind spoke witha certain air of frustration as he also took note of Harrington's cautious run. It was indeed a good one, thoughit left Hind with some reservations. Then again, Harrington seemed to operate on reservations.

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*Third post for judging*

Before he waited some more for his final time, Harrington moved on from the end of the course. Along his way to a nearby trough for some water, he looked up at the crowd, stomping in applause for him and the pony he raced alongside. He smiled sheepishly at the crowd, not acting with the same boldness and confidence as his earth pony opponent.

"Thank you...though I'll just wait and see how it turns out. Thank you all." He walked away from the finish area, panting as he dropped his head into the trough, sucking water through his mouth and down his throat for about 10 seconds before he got up, sighed and walked back while the crowd's cheers continued. He waved back at them, triggering a few louder whoops and hollers before he proceeded through to the other side of the finish area, past Mojo. He put his flat cap back on and sat down in a side section of the stands.

He raised his hoof for a tasty apple fritter and caught one tossed his way, then passed two bits back toward the bleacher proprietor. He chomped into the sweet, sweet pastry, a satisfying taste after the race. He thanked ponies who complimented him on his run, nodding as he did. "Though I do think that griffon who was here earlier really dominated the course...not surprised she's got the time to beat. But who knows? I'm just glad I got my run over with. I haven't felt that relieved to be done with a race since flight camp. Or as anxious about my result in this event since...I started my run."

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Gilda's display was indeed full of bragging and bravado, but not as mean-spirited as Flying Brick had feared. She thought about actually going over to her, but as she started to get to her hooves, she felt the sharp pricks of pain from the splinters she got from the barrel. "We can talk on the way to infirmary; I should get this seen to."

Whatever right the judge may have thought she'd earned, the mare was not leaving the field with her head held high.

(Exit Flying Brick; we can continue in the Free RP board if you like)

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(First Prep Post)

Hoss and Shanna once again divided their events according to the build of their bodies.

Shanna as a pegasus mare was a bit lighter than her brother, so she would be doing the Barrel Weave race. Meanwhile her brother with a more typical male build would take on the obstacle course.

The bay mare watched for a few rounds to see how it was run before daring to step on up into line. Surely she could get a better score here than she had in Cloud Diving.

She waited patiently in line, watching the line move forward in groups of three, and keeping an eye on how everypony else was doing as they ran.

Finally it was her turn to stand at the starting line and listen to the official ask her name and restate the rules to be sure she understood them.

She took a deep breath to focus and nod to him. "I am Shanna Skybright, and I do, sir. I am ready."

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Hind tossed Harrington's time on the board without hesitation:

1- Gilda, 25.1 seconds.

2- Electric Vibe, 26.2 seconds.

3- Harrington Sleuth, 27.5 seconds

4- Douglas Trotter, 28.34 seconds

5- Mojo, 28.95 seconds

6- Wind Runner, 29.01 seconds

7- Guiding Light, 29.80 seconds

8- Flying Brick, 31.90 seconds- Disqualified

"If ya hadn't been so cautious, you'd probably have pushed Gilda," Hind nodded with approval as he turned to another freakin' Pegasus that entered the area. He sighed; it was a nearly neverending stream of these types! Hind looked over to the start of the line and then back to Shanna.

"Get to the line. When I blow this whistle, run." he said before moving back to his own position.

"Get ready, get set-"

He blew the whistle.

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[snip]

[snip]

Wind Rider nodded. He had recognized the accent, but had learned never to assume where a pony was from. For instance, he'd known ponies native to Hoofington that still had their accents from the North, just from family alone. "Well, I wish you good luck on your goal. I'm sure you can make it." he assured Flying Brick with a smile. "And hey, if I see you around Hoofington, you'd better hope it's when I'm off-duty. I don't want to have to be saving you." he said with a laugh.

He watched the other events while Douglas and Flying discussed the griffon. He'd seen them compete before, and was watching Gilda's run. Typically he wasn't a fan of people who loudly boasted, but in a rare case, Gilda had the skill to back up her boasts.

At the mention of changing locations the pegasus nodded. "Been a tough run. We could head out to the training ring, get some water or something and find a patch of grass to relax on." he offered.

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(Second post to Judge)

Shanna ulped as the race offical turned to see her and sighed in obvious disappointment.

Her mind raced and thought silently to herself "Is it me? Does he disapprove of my being the daughter of the Astronomer Royal participating in such a thing? -Or do I look too weak?"

Shanna took a deep breath to focus on the stallion and the race itself, moving to the starting line as he directed.

The mare firmly dug her hooves in like the others had, her wings held tight to her body.

Sweat sprang out on her forehead in her tension and anticipation.

"Get ready, get set-"

He blew the whistle.

Shanna exploded from the line into a gallop, heading for the first set of barrels. The pegasus mare fought to concentrate on what she had seen before, watching from the sidelines. She leaned into the first turn around a barrel. Easy enough.

Her bay hide was itching under her black-banded wings as she was working up a sweat already.

Shanna glanced ahead and noted that her guess from watching from the sidelines was correct; the pattern of barrels was progressively tighter, with smaller gaps between barrels.

A raven black tail streamed behind her like a flag as she raced to the second barrel.

She leaned with the turn, banking around the barrel and made for the third.

Her hooves were slipping a little in the churned-up turf around the barrels as she banked around the barrel and headed for the fourth. "That was close, watch where you put your hooves!"

After her mundane showing compared to THE Rainbow Dash in the Cloud Dive, she could not let herself knock over a barrel or fall. "Take your time in a hurry..." as they say."

Soon, she found herself having to swing her hips and bend her body in tighter and tighter turns, and nearly lost her focus when she felt her tail slap the eighth barrel.

"It's just like a cloud slalom! Keep your eye on the next barrel!"

The pegasus groaned as her legs were burning already.

Shanna arched her body around the Ninth barrel, fighting and praying not to slip as she aimed for the last barrel.

She could hear the roar of the blood pulsing through her ears as time seemed to slow down. Shanna fought to put each step precisely, hoping to impress the strange stallion who seemed to disapprove of her. Yet, the space was so tight now, she felt her flank graze the last barrel ever so lightly.

Frantically, she dug in her hooves and bolted for the finish, her hooves flashing and skidding down to a walk after she passed the line.

Shanna nervously glanced to the leader board in anticipation...

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