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[center][color=#837E7C][b]MENTIONS:[/b][/color][/center]

[color=#837E7C]When she looked behind her, Jules couldn't see any sign of the black horse and its rider. Good-- the very least she asked for was to be able to focus on this damned stretch of the race. There were still a cluster of horses in front of her, but some slowed down in the proximity of the slope. Ah, yes. She knew this much about horses; if she were to rush down the hill at top speed, that would tucker out poor old Greasy Sand. Yet... there were so many people ahead of her. If she slowed down, that meant that she would permit the others to rush ahead. With that mentality, she wouldn't be able to be in the top ten of the first stage.

Her mind raced. What could she do? It wasn't like she could push Greasy Sand further. The poor thing already huffed and puffed. Jules glanced around. She caught sight of that kid again to her far left, but a piece of paper was tucked underneath his scarf. She eyed him. That couldn't be... no. It wasn't the poster. She shook her head again, mumbling a curse. She had to focus. Just focus. Nothing else. There was no one to her left or to her right, and even if there were people, they were all garbage anyway. All that mattered were those in front of her-- and the hill, of course. Already, she was coming up with a plan. 

She crested the hill and headed downward. Horses rushed ahead of her as she decided to slow down just a little, but she knew she had to be quick. Jules' hand went to her hip, her fingers brushing against the smooth metal of her weaponry. The horses were rushing, yes. There was a lot of flying dirt and dust, though she could still [i]see[/i]. She couldn't say the same for the others. Were they blind? Were they paying attention? Honestly, she didn't care. All that mattered was pulling off this distraction and trying her damned hardest not to get caught in the mess she was about to create. 

Jules gripped one of her metallic spheres, holding it within her palm for a fraction of an instant before she tossed out in front of her. The ball moved in the shape of an arc, like a boomerang, though at an incredible amount of speed. It arched towards one of the horses in front of her, dipping low towards its galloping feet, and clipped  its left ankle. The horse yipped in surprise and tripped over itself, falling neck-first against the ground. Its rider screamed as he was flung from his saddle, he too toppling to the ground. The other racers that tailed him cried out in shock as they tried to move out of the way, but it was of no use. Two horses fell. Then two more. Then three more. The fallen horses and riders careened down the hill in a tangle of broken limbs and limp bodies. 

Ten racers had fallen in total. Jules would have been caught in the crash if she hadn't moved out of the way. Greasy Sand whimpered in complaint as they served to the side, her rider's hand coming up to catch the ball that arced back towards her. Quickly, she tucked the ball back into its holster and streaked the rest of the way down the hill. The church and town were ahead of her. It was the final stretch.  [/color]