[Prompt] Fallen logs

The sun had started its descent when Floyd and Banshee strode through the forest. With nothing but a neck rope the two ventured the pathways that snaked through acres of vast land. Pinetrees lined the well-used horse trail and ripe blueberry bushes colored the sides of the path. Banshee's stride was an active trot, ears forward in an attentive gesture and eyes scanning the ground for obstacles such as branches and gaps. Floyd balanced himself when Banshee hopped around a puddle. No wet feet today sir.

As they progressed the trail, pine trees made way for lighter green oak trees that rustled their leaves in the wind. The afternoon sun peeped through the forest roof, speckling the ground with sunrays.

“Let's go our usual route here,” Floyd spoke to Banshee. The stallion turned left in response, knowing already which path of the two-way fork they take 9 out of 10 times. A slow canter replaced their trot, Banshee sensing they got to their canter road. But Floyd stops the Loshenka before they go further. There, down the road that's usually free of any obstacles, are now multiple low tree logs that have fallen over the path. 

Banshee lets out a breath of air in protest, wanting to go despite the trees. Floyd chuckles, “alright bud, go then,” and grabs a hold of his neck as they approach the first log. With an elegant bow Banshee clears the tree and sets a target on the next. They climb a little, jump the log and descend again toward the third.

“Must've been last week's storm, no one cleared it yet.”

But for Banshee it was no hard labor, in fact he enjoyed it a little too much and threw in a buck or two. Floyd gripped his legs around the barrel of his horse, widening his eyes in surprise to the mischief.

“I'd like to stay on please-!” 

The rest of the path was clear to go and Floyd let Banshee go his usual speed down this trail. The loshenka lengthened his strides and sped down the pathway, Floyd holding on as the stallion went up and down the slight hills and left to right through the bends. The wind whipped around them, Floyd's hair bun holding on tighter than he himself. When the road sign showed, Floyd slowed them down again, as another two way fork was coming up again in the road.

“Let's head homeward, right.”