Neck still damp after the last gallop, wild-eyed and ears pointing forwards, it walks, nostrils flaring and chest heaving, towards the stables. I brush my hand along its mane, along its shoulder. It is hot and bold. Touching my nose, its ethereal and suave looks conceal the grace and gentleness within.
Delicate yet fiery, abstract yet dazzling, the scent of the animal skin is enveloping. It is the smell of a stallion after its gallop, of its hot, animal sweat to be tamed before it soak sup. A wild, natural perfume.