Adela's Point of View
In the theater of fate's design, as intricately orchestrated, Grant and I stepped into the arena, poised for a duel. Yet, the adversary assigned to Grant failed to exude the thrill of a true competition, and thus, I emerged victorious without summoning my trusty steed, Black, into action.
Since my tender years, I had been sculpted in the gentle art of horse mastery, a discipline that has remained a steadfast companion throughout my life's journey.
Post our contest, the spotlight shifted to Wendy and Grant, their clash unfurling as anticipated. Grant succumbed to the impending defeat, a fact that I seized upon to indulge in playful jests, a good-natured ribbing that he bore with admirable grace.
Grant's disposition isn't inherently touchy; he merely embraces fleeting moments when the allure of participating in our banter proves irresistible.
