Five-second head start that seems even. Barks laughter clear and bright into the air and kicks the horse hard against its side with her heel, feeling it roll fast under her. The rest comes easy, drops her body low, feels the thunder of it under her. There's a power to it, of shifting with the animal. The air that hits her face and Gangadhar had always preferred his elephants. Beautiful, powerful - but this? This would always be her preference. The defiance to moving fast in unison with something kind enough to let her.

She pulls up even with him quickly enough - and if she wasn't sure before, she is now, he's not a strong rider. The horse isn't trying to sneak away from him, they always tended to know when a rider couldn't handle themselves, so he wasn't terrible, but - he wasn't sure, from the look of how he was holding himself. She's still laughing, still smiling. An honest, careful free enjoyment - she isn't interested in most forms of celebration that partook in, but this one was... acceptable to her.