Writing Practice - Race Preparations
#1 of Writing Scraps
Hey there.
I'm new around these parts but this looks like a great place to interact with some writers. I myself, I wouldn't count as being one but that's not to say I wouldn't like to change that some day. For now I take enjoyment in putting together little scenes which are mainly just there as a canvas to practice technique but I would be appreciative of any feedback or tips you might have.
Thanks for reading.
By this point, the dazzling sunlight was becoming a problem.
With a hand shielding his squinting eyes Tails continued to determinedly wipe the white cloth over the mirrored green surface he'd polished fourteen times already, reflecting the sun and the hard-working fox with a glint of the metal collar he wore.
Race days were always the most demanding, and he'd learnt that fact early on. Jet...his Master...required everything about his precious Extreme Gear to be in spectacular condition, not just in look, but also down to the smallest functional detail. The dints from the race before, had those been worked out from the base? The scuff mark in the left corner, had that been eradicated? What about the gravity controllers? "Fix them, puppy. I felt a centimetre drop on the right when cornering..."
It wasn't just the board which the fox attended to; the required pre-start kiss, the lewd massaging and release of pre-race jitters were all things Tails was expected to handle and remedy to ensure the hawk's unequivocal standing as the best racer on Mobius. In the early days the fox had neglected these duties as he struggled to adjust to his new life as personal mechanic and 'toy' to the bird. He soon learned though; laziness brought with it just as much punishment as resisting and the hawk wasn't one to suffer anything but perfection. Jet's attention to detail was as sharp as his piercing hawk eyes and they scrutinised absolutely everything; be it a situation, his own body, his gear, and of course all 'property' he owned, including the fox.
Tails' sensitive nose twitched. The potent smell of cleaning treatment products wafted around the vulpine, mixing with the bird scent that lingered deep in his fur. Using a clean gloved hand he drew it across the curved glossy front of the board, concentrating on trying to feel for any imperfections in the surface.
There didn't seem to be any. Or at least, he certainly hoped not.
The bird had been more than firm on that point, leaving the fox with a knot in his stomach and no uncertain terms that he wanted his board to be "so sharp and smooth it slices the very air." That was the standard Tails had to work to and while it might have sounded unrealistic, the fox conceded, you probably don't get the name 'Legendary Wind Master' for being anything but deft in harnessing the wild power of the wind. And harness it Jet certainly could.
He placed the board down carefully and stood up, admiring it's sleek perfected form with a deep reverence, not daring to touch it any further. This was a precious device, this was important. It was the difference between a content hawk or an angry one, and the latter was to be avoided at all costs if Tails could help it.
So engrossed was Tails, the fox didn't feel the hot breath on the back of his neck.
"That's enough on the board, puppy. You know what I need now..."
Tails' ears flattened in instant submission at that familiar commanding voice, letting the tug at his collar pull him away, onto the remainder of the birds 'preparations'.