[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/A50Plxd.png[/img]

[color=gray][sub]Mention:[/sub][/color] 「 [@Ambra] 」[/center]
[hr]
[indent][indent]
[color=gray]Radio head was a breed built for not just endurance, but for racing as well. Hitting his prime in four short years of age, there were very few horses at the race who could only hope to hold a handle to the bucking bronco. Confident he didn’t need to expel too much of Radio head energy or reveal any of his tricks in hand, Joseppi instead simply kept patting the horse and whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Whatever he was whispering seemed to be working, radio head’s hooves stomped into the ground so furiously it appeared as though the earth was experiencing major upheavals. The marks in the ground were severely cracked with marks of Radio heads distinct horseshow pattern. A dozen or so small stars coated the entire rim of the horseshoe, similar to the purple star birthmark etched on the flesh of his neck. 

Cutting through the rest of the competition he had finally made it out just a few meters behind the girl with a plume of feathers. Utilizing aerodynamics, Joseppi began to draft behind her using the slipstream created by her horse to close the gap between them. About to slip from out of her stream in order to overtake her he noticed she turned around to face him. Unintentional to him the image she caught was a menacing one. Both horse and rider had a look of animalistic determination obscured in shadow only revealing the light glowing from their eyes. Her horse slowed allowing from him to ride up alongside her, her glare and sight of pure annoyance was like a stab to his heart. Once side by side Joseppi’s demonic figured faded in an instant as if he were molting old skin. 

Now all that was left was a huge smile and an air of radiant positivity. He leaned back and blindly reached into his bag knocking trinkets and papers together until he was finally able to get ahold of his gift. Undoing the button, he retrieved and revealed a beautiful wildflower harvested from the nearby Death Valley. The sun only served to enhance the golden color it was coated in which he could only hope to field a positive response from her. [color=gray]“I don’t think we met yet, but I couldn’t help notice your beauty from all the way across the starting line. For you”[/color] he said tucking one arm under his chest and bowing in respect. Unfortunately, while he was rummaging through his bag, he had undone the strap holding it close. Her wanted poster slipped out once more almost if the girl was attracting it to her like a magnet. 

Before she could even warrant a reply, the paper flew out and slapped itself against the face of Jules. Once she would pull it from her face she would be greeted by a mirror image, but with a slight addition of the words Wanted and Dead or Alive. 
[/color]
[/indent][/indent]