One, two. One, two, three! The counting is rhythmic in her head as she counts her strides, eyeing every gap between the clouds and making a precise jump over every clump, the world around but a void encompassing her path. She was in the sky after all. There could be no mistakes and there was no chance to admire the lead she was slowly assuming on the others, gaining even on the Queen of the Edge as she counted again and again. When at last solid ground came into her sight and she made the last measured leap onto its soil, the sigh of relief that shot from her maw was so liberating and wholehearted Leeka could have sworn her very soul fluttered in place with glee. There was nothing like the firmness of soil under ones feet and the certainly one would not fall to an abrupt and brutal end should they misstep, at least in normal circumstances. On land there was nothing for her to fear that she could not conquer. As sad as it could be sometimes, she was a being of earth, through and through.

With that said, there was a race to get back to.

Flying into a buck to tie up her victory over the skyland, Leeka checks into a new gear, elated at the feeling of her haunches bunching and propelling her forward on familiar turf with the last of the golden rings locked in her sights. Looking up the young mare is surprised to only see Kahlua, of all horses, parading ahead of her. Where was everyone else? Confused, the pintaloosa mare turned her head just enough to look over her shoulder, her green eyes widening with shock and excitement as she discovers her notable lead from the pack and that she is in fact only second from first.

She had a chance to win.

A cheeky grin raises on her face at the realization, especially when she notices the silver grulla trailing behind, but surging forward in a last ditch effort to gain a better position even she peered upon him, just as everyone was. You won't pass me, I promise you that, she swore inwardly, her eyes harding with conviction. Earlier in the race she had made him her rival, a target to surpass, and being in the position she was she wasn't going to let it change without a fight. The same went for anyone in the race. Plus, she was still miffed by his not-so-little root trick beforehand. No one got away with tricks on her...

...Except the turtle, of course.

Again the omniscient voice of their prankster host boomed overhead and mental alerts flared in her mind in return, connecting its voice to be the precursor of some sudden change even. She only had that split second of worry before a headwind struck her face, stinging her eyes enough that she blinked and when she opened them again there was only the devilish hue of pink petals to be seen. What the-?! Caught unawares, the poor mare gagged, faltering in her steps some at the innate shock as she inhaled a few of the cherry blossoms through her flared nostrils, the pedals crowding the air so effectively it was near impossible to breath without them included. Thankfully, the foreign matter was expelled as soon as she had inhaled it, the mare defensibly lowering her chin to her chest in attempt to conceal it from the pink malice and tries to find Kahlua and trail behind the paint mare, hoping to use her body as a windbreaker while searching hungrily for the glint of gold ahead.

Petals stick to her sweat slick hide like leeches and her lungs are beginning to crave more air then she can breath in the near clusterphobic embrace of the cherry blossoms but Leeka is far from finished. Clouded as her vision is the terrain is turf and straight, her haven ground, and the mare has faith in her feet. This is where she excels. She may not be the speediest of breeds but she has endurance and will and the youth of her blood rages against the thought of defeat. It was just too thrilling to ease up now, even if it was the Queen she was going head-to-head with. That just made it all the better. Besides, if that turtle thought she'd go through freak'in clouds and kamikaze petals and not give it her all...oh no, she had a bone to pick.

Catching a glimpse of gold ahead, Leeka pitching for it, lengthening her stride as far as it could go and as fast as she could muster. Hidalgo himself may even have been proud at the mare's effort at the last stretch, beating her dainty feet into the earth in such a flurry it'd leave a snare drummer wondering just how many eighth notes were hammered into one measure. Eorolee, aid me. Her only hope was that she could last long enough to the end, and if she could, if she won...what a story that'd be.