The wound was neither big nor small, inflicted by a thin blade. The sharp blade was still lodged in the flesh, constantly seeping blood. So, that's how it was. Eleanor slightly tightened her grip. Someone had intentionally used a blade to hurt this young horse, causing it to panic and bolt off the track. No wonder it suddenly cried out in pain and lost its senses.
That brings up the question: who is this person who intentionally wounded her horse, preventing her from continuing the race? Eleanor had a rough hunch. This person was likely the same one who had purposely sabotaged her crossbow. Eleanor's brow furrowed as a deep chill surfaced in her eyes. It seemed that she was being targeted.
Eleanor gripped the reins tighter, patted the horse's neck, and suddenly chuckled, "Little horse, we need to return. Can we run a bit faster?" As if understanding Eleanor's words, the horse beneath her suddenly dashed off in the direction of the track, ready to return the way it came.