February Workouts: Scroll For Individuals
Whipped Cream& The Rising. Feline Frenzy& Flawed Princess. Alucard& The Devil's Hourglass.
GS Royal Crown& Cross My Heart.
Wish Upon A Star& Indian Darling. Hokum& Bella Luna. Mastermind& Van Guard.
GS Royal Crown& Cross My Heart.
Wish Upon A Star& Indian Darling. Hokum& Bella Luna. Mastermind& Van Guard.
February Week One
whip it up
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
Laura ran a hand over the near black rump as she moved from one side of the stall to the other. She moved with quiet intentions and soft eyes, her hands were gentle as she cruised a soft cloth over the twitchy skin. The horse's hind off was cocked in utter relaxation and her head hung low. Not the usual picture of a racehorse that the public mainly got to see on the track. And definitely not the picture that the public would get of this certain horse. Rea, or Whipped Cream, daughter of Whippet and Warm Wishes, was a biker chick cloaked in black. Maybe a sleepy one at the moment, but come race day there would be no fiercer race horse. And Laura would be on the power house in the race. It burned in her veins. The electricity that normally ran rampant between the horse and young woman was a muted glow at the moment. However, when the pressure was on, few would defy the connection that bloomed. At least that was what Laura hoped would happen. No one knew until those gates broke open.
Maggie pulled the black mane belonging to The Rising, watching his neck fight her hand and help to break the pieces of hair. His eyes were kind and confident. He was relaxed between the cross-ties and his ears were tuned to her. Every time she moved the stallion would turn to watch. He had a gentle nature, a rock solid one that was dependable and would need an earthquake to break it. It was odd to feel such a connection with so mellow a horse, but it was there. Not ground breaking exactly, but Maggie could not deny the pull she felt for the Hall of Fame son of The Natural and brother to two Hall of Fame mares. Ri nickered gently as she slipped the bit between his teeth, completing the look of battle-tested racehorse. He was actually fairly lightly raced in comparison to some horses. His longest year had been his three year old year and he had a good foundation for what Maggie hoped would prove that The Natural could produce a top-level colt in addition to his fillies. We've got something to prove. You and I both, Ri. Let's school Rea. The stallion rubbed his forehead against her chest as she pulled her helmet on.
Laura led Whipped Cream out of her stall, admiring her brutally thick body. Whipped Cream was not a feather weight. She pinned her ears in the direction of The Rising, but touched noses softly with beloved stablemate Fiery Touch. Ri snorted at her, but Rea ignored him. Laura petted the mare's shimmering neck and grinned. Typical female. The women led their horses out of the barn, each quiet and thinking. Their first race was coming up. Whipped Cream's this week and The Rising's next week. Both horses were as prepared as possible and their muscles were as finely developed now as Frozen Motion's or Fiery Touch's. Both were ready for their next challenge. The women mounted quietly, settling with sighs onto the thin strip of leather.
We'll see what they have for us today. I don't want to go too stiff with them right away. We'll ease 'em into racing. No record breaking performances necessary just yet. Laura nodded in muted agreement with Maggie. Witch Creek never expected much for their first time starters. Especially horses that would need a start or two to get the hang of things. Laura patted Rea's bulging neck, grinning as muscles shifted beneath her hide with the irritation that Rea was now exuding.
The pair picked up a long-striding gallop, moving in tandem with one another. Rea's head was cranked a little. Ri ran out, his stride smooth and natural. He was the perfectly conformed stallion and perfectly willing to do as she pleased. Maggie's hands were light on the reins, gently shifting the aluminum bit in order to straighten him out. Rea ran sideways at first, forelegs in one direction, hind in the other. She was not a fancy mare and was downright tomboyish, but Laura loved her. She was unique and a horse a lot of bi-polar women would relate to. It certainly worked for her.
The gallop was stiff and strong over the turf hills leading toward the broodmare barn at Witch Creek. Mares and foals played in the paddocks running alongside the turf course as the older horses whipped across the grass. Rea and Ri were focused as they galloped, ears pricked, hooves pounding with focus into the ground. They'd gotten over their jitters of moving to Witch Creek and adored their riders. An exchange of experience and personality had occurred over the last month and a half. Whipped Cream and The Rising were now true blue Witch Creek thoroughbreds.
Up and over hill after hill, the horses remained strong and steady. They course gallops and workouts had done a world of good. Neither horse breathed heavily as they flew down the hillside. Their ears began to slant back as they thought about the oncoming run. A tension flickered through one equine and then the other. Ri lowered himself, leveled out and prepared for the rush that would come with Maggie's command. The blond woman leaned close as they throttled down the hillside before the three furlong stretch. Speed was not the focus here at Witch Creek because most of the horses were trained on the turf now rather than the dirt. Speed would come later on. However, it didn't mean that they didn't revel in the speed when it was called upon.
Whipped Cream was the first to gun it. Her knees lifted on command, fiercely and sharply. Laura leaned close, red hair mingling with black, as the mare went from sure to wild in about five seconds. Her bullish body cut through the air as she lowered out and became more aerodynamic.She got the jump on Ri briefly, her quick burst of speed took her to a length and a half lead. Maggie shook the reins, grinning at Laura's quick moves. Ri came to life with a dramatic explosion. His turn of foot so impressive that Maggie was nearly launched to the back of the saddle. The horses flew over the grass in tandem now with snorts becoming the norm of this pair. They exchanged grunts and vocalizations as they surged through the three furlongs, insisting that they sprint up the hill despite their riders' objections. Maggie and Laura leaned close as they flew. They were ready. The fire was burning inside them again. It was time to enter that first ring of fire and produce a challenge.
Maggie pulled the black mane belonging to The Rising, watching his neck fight her hand and help to break the pieces of hair. His eyes were kind and confident. He was relaxed between the cross-ties and his ears were tuned to her. Every time she moved the stallion would turn to watch. He had a gentle nature, a rock solid one that was dependable and would need an earthquake to break it. It was odd to feel such a connection with so mellow a horse, but it was there. Not ground breaking exactly, but Maggie could not deny the pull she felt for the Hall of Fame son of The Natural and brother to two Hall of Fame mares. Ri nickered gently as she slipped the bit between his teeth, completing the look of battle-tested racehorse. He was actually fairly lightly raced in comparison to some horses. His longest year had been his three year old year and he had a good foundation for what Maggie hoped would prove that The Natural could produce a top-level colt in addition to his fillies. We've got something to prove. You and I both, Ri. Let's school Rea. The stallion rubbed his forehead against her chest as she pulled her helmet on.
Laura led Whipped Cream out of her stall, admiring her brutally thick body. Whipped Cream was not a feather weight. She pinned her ears in the direction of The Rising, but touched noses softly with beloved stablemate Fiery Touch. Ri snorted at her, but Rea ignored him. Laura petted the mare's shimmering neck and grinned. Typical female. The women led their horses out of the barn, each quiet and thinking. Their first race was coming up. Whipped Cream's this week and The Rising's next week. Both horses were as prepared as possible and their muscles were as finely developed now as Frozen Motion's or Fiery Touch's. Both were ready for their next challenge. The women mounted quietly, settling with sighs onto the thin strip of leather.
We'll see what they have for us today. I don't want to go too stiff with them right away. We'll ease 'em into racing. No record breaking performances necessary just yet. Laura nodded in muted agreement with Maggie. Witch Creek never expected much for their first time starters. Especially horses that would need a start or two to get the hang of things. Laura patted Rea's bulging neck, grinning as muscles shifted beneath her hide with the irritation that Rea was now exuding.
The pair picked up a long-striding gallop, moving in tandem with one another. Rea's head was cranked a little. Ri ran out, his stride smooth and natural. He was the perfectly conformed stallion and perfectly willing to do as she pleased. Maggie's hands were light on the reins, gently shifting the aluminum bit in order to straighten him out. Rea ran sideways at first, forelegs in one direction, hind in the other. She was not a fancy mare and was downright tomboyish, but Laura loved her. She was unique and a horse a lot of bi-polar women would relate to. It certainly worked for her.
The gallop was stiff and strong over the turf hills leading toward the broodmare barn at Witch Creek. Mares and foals played in the paddocks running alongside the turf course as the older horses whipped across the grass. Rea and Ri were focused as they galloped, ears pricked, hooves pounding with focus into the ground. They'd gotten over their jitters of moving to Witch Creek and adored their riders. An exchange of experience and personality had occurred over the last month and a half. Whipped Cream and The Rising were now true blue Witch Creek thoroughbreds.
Up and over hill after hill, the horses remained strong and steady. They course gallops and workouts had done a world of good. Neither horse breathed heavily as they flew down the hillside. Their ears began to slant back as they thought about the oncoming run. A tension flickered through one equine and then the other. Ri lowered himself, leveled out and prepared for the rush that would come with Maggie's command. The blond woman leaned close as they throttled down the hillside before the three furlong stretch. Speed was not the focus here at Witch Creek because most of the horses were trained on the turf now rather than the dirt. Speed would come later on. However, it didn't mean that they didn't revel in the speed when it was called upon.
Whipped Cream was the first to gun it. Her knees lifted on command, fiercely and sharply. Laura leaned close, red hair mingling with black, as the mare went from sure to wild in about five seconds. Her bullish body cut through the air as she lowered out and became more aerodynamic.She got the jump on Ri briefly, her quick burst of speed took her to a length and a half lead. Maggie shook the reins, grinning at Laura's quick moves. Ri came to life with a dramatic explosion. His turn of foot so impressive that Maggie was nearly launched to the back of the saddle. The horses flew over the grass in tandem now with snorts becoming the norm of this pair. They exchanged grunts and vocalizations as they surged through the three furlongs, insisting that they sprint up the hill despite their riders' objections. Maggie and Laura leaned close as they flew. They were ready. The fire was burning inside them again. It was time to enter that first ring of fire and produce a challenge.
hear me roar
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
It's like the Princess and the Frog... Laura grumbled as she took in the two mares before her. Feline Frenzy was the plain brown wrapper or the frog. Her taller counterpart with the splashy white-marked face and burnished bay body, Flawed Princess, clearly was the princess. Fee was the little try-hard, die-hard mare and Amira was the effortless queen of the castle. Laura pressed a finger to the camera button, capturing their faces for eternity. They were both coming off of two stirring victories. Stirring and shocking if you were Feline Frenzy. Laura had not expected the immediate success with Fee that she was receiving, but both races had been blood-blistering. Feline Frenzy had a knack for racing and when she got on the front lead it took the jaws of life to give it up. The four year old had a world of speed. Three more wins and she would be a grade three and would stake a claim to fill an empty hole in the older horse ranks at Witch Creek. Witch Creek lacked powerful sprinters, but Fee was their typical horse. The unknown with solid, but stunning performances running to face down the top-dog. A smirk settled on Laura's pink lips. She'd love to shock the top-dog herself. Over and over and over again.
Maggie cocked a hip as she stepped from the tack room, pulling a helmet down over her head. Laura's angular face was lit up with all sorts excitement. It was strange seeing her niece in such a happy state. But when you had success, it tended to brighten your day up. The blonde stepped up beside her niece, ran a hand down the gentle face that plunged forward for attention. Amira's dark eyes were bright with eagerness, the bit rolling over her tongue in excitement. She had been stunning in her last two victories. She'd handed the powerful Nightshade her head in the first race for both at the season and then conquered Georgie's Girl and Blazing Kiss in the Leo Stakes. She was nearly paralleling Screaming Mimi and Maggie hoped beyond hope that Amira would help to fulfill that missing slot. She patted the mare's neck, eager to get a move on. Ready? Laura nodded curtly and guided Fee out of the stall. The little bay bobbed her head, whuffling her lips over Laura's fingers.
The women mounted up outside of the barn, blue and green eyes sweeping over the territory in tandem. There was love in one's eyes and an uneasiness in the others. Laura was beginning to fall in love with the place her aunt called home. It was not something she'd wanted, but here she was. She patted Fee's shoulder, grabbed the reins and leaped aboard the 15.2 hand fun-sized mare. Fee began to dance, twisting her common, but not unpretty head about. She glared at Amira briefly, firing up when Laura least expected it. This was her little monster mare. Maybe a future champion. Laura was on her way to finding herself and helping the horses to find their inner champion. Maggie guided Amira down the path that would wind to the dirt track. Amira walked along with her neck bowed, legs stretching out in a dressage demonstration. Amira was the ultimate show-off. She stretched and preened, relished in every pat that Maggie gave her. She was such a difference from the others. And she knew it too.
The flashy bay tossed her head back playfully when Fee demonstrated her intense passion to be alone. There was humor in the movement and no insult. Another difference. GS Royal Crown likely would have punished the mare for such a demonstration. Not Amira. Relaxed and easy-going until she got running. Then she turned into a work of art. Consistent, push button, brave, determined and poetry in motion were all superlatives that had been applied to Flawed Princess in her last start. The now grade two mare was finally getting the attention she deserved. Maggie stroked her neck, fingering the strands of black mane that needed to be pulled. A pretty mare needed a special day of grooming. It was not all fun and games.
Feline Frenzy was the first to break into a gallop. Laura immediately stood in the stirrups, crouching over the lithe mare. Her green eyes flickered with brilliant intensity as Fee went from trot to gallop with unbelievable smoothness. The plain brown wrapper had some moves. Laura leaned close, stroking the mare kindly, letting her go at her own pace. Fee was listening to Amira as she dashed for the first hill as nimble as a deer. Laura could hear the long strides of the elder mare, but worried little. Fee was gaining confidence and her last two races indicated that running her more was the way to go.
Maggie admired Fee's beautiful butt for a moment before sending Flawed Princess after her. The flashy mare went from an easy gallop to a quick one, swallowing the ground between them with rolling strides. She was at Fee's left flank before Maggie knew it and easily relented, settling there. Fee pinned her black-tipped ears into her mane, eyes rolling in annoyance. Laura kept her quiet, spoke to her with kind words as they flashed up and over the hills. Amira was now glued to their flank. Where Amira was bred for talent, Fee was made up of raw-determination and will. She flexed it a little, but streaking down the hillside. The move had worked on Mastermind and now it also worked on Amira. Amira flung her head up nearly bopping Maggie's crouched figure. She was insulted when the little brown thing spirited away. Maggie laughed as the indignation soared through Amira without abandon.
The second she hit the flat, the blaze-faced six year old leaped into action. Fee was prepared this time and swiftly outfooted her to the next hill. Amira lengthened herself, leveled out and down. Maggie felt as if she were on a transforming vehicle. From truck to compact to sports car was a good way to describe Amira. She flashed through all these transformations smoothly and without effort. She hauled her larger frame up the hill after Fee, burying her annoyance into her run. The crest was there and then she bobbed her head, noting Fee's form up ahead.
A peal of laughter escaped from Laura's mouth as Fee skidded her rump on the hillside and then pushed off to charge over the grass track. She had a great engine for such a slim mare. She gauged Amira's position with a quick glance under her armpit. The big mare was two lengths back when just five seconds ago, she'd been six lengths back. Laura put Fee into a drive, pumping her arms dramatically to get the most from her mount. Fee took off like a jet, black mane and tail whipping back even as Amira commenced her bid for the lead and the win. Maggie leaned close, blue eyes flashing. Amira's muscled body whipped over the course, gaining momentum with every grandly fluid stride. The pair soared over the course, past the imaginary wire and up the hillside. The winner could not be determined, but neither woman minded. Their victory could come now or the next race. It didn't matter. The mares were winners already.
Maggie cocked a hip as she stepped from the tack room, pulling a helmet down over her head. Laura's angular face was lit up with all sorts excitement. It was strange seeing her niece in such a happy state. But when you had success, it tended to brighten your day up. The blonde stepped up beside her niece, ran a hand down the gentle face that plunged forward for attention. Amira's dark eyes were bright with eagerness, the bit rolling over her tongue in excitement. She had been stunning in her last two victories. She'd handed the powerful Nightshade her head in the first race for both at the season and then conquered Georgie's Girl and Blazing Kiss in the Leo Stakes. She was nearly paralleling Screaming Mimi and Maggie hoped beyond hope that Amira would help to fulfill that missing slot. She patted the mare's neck, eager to get a move on. Ready? Laura nodded curtly and guided Fee out of the stall. The little bay bobbed her head, whuffling her lips over Laura's fingers.
The women mounted up outside of the barn, blue and green eyes sweeping over the territory in tandem. There was love in one's eyes and an uneasiness in the others. Laura was beginning to fall in love with the place her aunt called home. It was not something she'd wanted, but here she was. She patted Fee's shoulder, grabbed the reins and leaped aboard the 15.2 hand fun-sized mare. Fee began to dance, twisting her common, but not unpretty head about. She glared at Amira briefly, firing up when Laura least expected it. This was her little monster mare. Maybe a future champion. Laura was on her way to finding herself and helping the horses to find their inner champion. Maggie guided Amira down the path that would wind to the dirt track. Amira walked along with her neck bowed, legs stretching out in a dressage demonstration. Amira was the ultimate show-off. She stretched and preened, relished in every pat that Maggie gave her. She was such a difference from the others. And she knew it too.
The flashy bay tossed her head back playfully when Fee demonstrated her intense passion to be alone. There was humor in the movement and no insult. Another difference. GS Royal Crown likely would have punished the mare for such a demonstration. Not Amira. Relaxed and easy-going until she got running. Then she turned into a work of art. Consistent, push button, brave, determined and poetry in motion were all superlatives that had been applied to Flawed Princess in her last start. The now grade two mare was finally getting the attention she deserved. Maggie stroked her neck, fingering the strands of black mane that needed to be pulled. A pretty mare needed a special day of grooming. It was not all fun and games.
Feline Frenzy was the first to break into a gallop. Laura immediately stood in the stirrups, crouching over the lithe mare. Her green eyes flickered with brilliant intensity as Fee went from trot to gallop with unbelievable smoothness. The plain brown wrapper had some moves. Laura leaned close, stroking the mare kindly, letting her go at her own pace. Fee was listening to Amira as she dashed for the first hill as nimble as a deer. Laura could hear the long strides of the elder mare, but worried little. Fee was gaining confidence and her last two races indicated that running her more was the way to go.
Maggie admired Fee's beautiful butt for a moment before sending Flawed Princess after her. The flashy mare went from an easy gallop to a quick one, swallowing the ground between them with rolling strides. She was at Fee's left flank before Maggie knew it and easily relented, settling there. Fee pinned her black-tipped ears into her mane, eyes rolling in annoyance. Laura kept her quiet, spoke to her with kind words as they flashed up and over the hills. Amira was now glued to their flank. Where Amira was bred for talent, Fee was made up of raw-determination and will. She flexed it a little, but streaking down the hillside. The move had worked on Mastermind and now it also worked on Amira. Amira flung her head up nearly bopping Maggie's crouched figure. She was insulted when the little brown thing spirited away. Maggie laughed as the indignation soared through Amira without abandon.
The second she hit the flat, the blaze-faced six year old leaped into action. Fee was prepared this time and swiftly outfooted her to the next hill. Amira lengthened herself, leveled out and down. Maggie felt as if she were on a transforming vehicle. From truck to compact to sports car was a good way to describe Amira. She flashed through all these transformations smoothly and without effort. She hauled her larger frame up the hill after Fee, burying her annoyance into her run. The crest was there and then she bobbed her head, noting Fee's form up ahead.
A peal of laughter escaped from Laura's mouth as Fee skidded her rump on the hillside and then pushed off to charge over the grass track. She had a great engine for such a slim mare. She gauged Amira's position with a quick glance under her armpit. The big mare was two lengths back when just five seconds ago, she'd been six lengths back. Laura put Fee into a drive, pumping her arms dramatically to get the most from her mount. Fee took off like a jet, black mane and tail whipping back even as Amira commenced her bid for the lead and the win. Maggie leaned close, blue eyes flashing. Amira's muscled body whipped over the course, gaining momentum with every grandly fluid stride. The pair soared over the course, past the imaginary wire and up the hillside. The winner could not be determined, but neither woman minded. Their victory could come now or the next race. It didn't matter. The mares were winners already.
pull it together
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
Ripley ran her hands through her hair, green eyes flashing like a cats. I don't know Maggie... I can't come up with a reason why he lost. He's one of the toughest colts I've run into. And he has the talent. I'm tossing out that fourth place finish. His run against Acantha was going to be tough. That filly's a freak and we both know it. Maggie sighed looking at the powerful colt that stood between cross-ties. The 16.3 hand colt stared imperiously at Ripley, his gaze icy and bright. This was a colt with attitude and with the eyes of a champion. Maggie stared into the blank eyes, feeling the cold flow into her. He was going to be a champion if they got the partnership right. She stepped up to him, patted his thick shoulder. You're probably right. They can't all be precocious.
Maggie pursed her lips, turned to eye Ripley. Hourglass served up notice in her last race though. She looked great and it's nice to see her put it all together. But... they both could use a fiery workout... and a possible leak to the press that they mean notice. Ripley smirked, slung an arm over her friend's shoulders. Just my kind of girl. If you were a man Maggiletti Reynold, I'd marry you. The blonde chuckled, glad to see Ripley's guard come down for a moment. Their friendship was blooming again and it was amazing. So... Ripley how interested are you in maintaining the primary rider position of Indian Darling? Ripley cocked an eyebrow as she led the muscled Hourglass out of her stall, noting the powerful dog shake. Depends on who is looking to ride. Maggie pursed her lips. Laura? Ripley thought about it, ran her hands down the savage face that belonged to the daughter of her best ride. I'll have to think about it Maggie. I'm searching for answers and I want results for Darla. She deserves it... Let me sleep on it. Maggie nodded, happy with the response. She hadn't expected such a relaxed answer from the owner.
Hourglass stomped a hoof, stretched her neck, shaking out her mane. She nudged Ripley, eyes bright and excited. She was the picture of pure health and racehorse. She also looked more like a three year old than the average two year old. She was the sports car of Ripley's Gorgon sisters. A blast to ride with a swift kick up the stretch, Hourglass had finally kicked into gear and drew away from an older horse in her maiden race. There were few like her and if it took three races to break her maiden, Ripley was not worried. There was plenty of time. She patted the filly's thick white star, pushing back the mane. Pretty girl. Maggie smiled, wished she could pull a similar move with Alucard, but was content with just standing in his presence. Alu was a rock-solid runner in his workout and a phenomenal galloper. Maggie was also not worried, but she was tired of waiting for the moment to come when he could rock and roll. Alu dipped his head briefly, mouthing the bit. He was ready to rock and roll and show off.
The women led the colt and filly out of the barn, dipping their heads up and down as they walked. Hourglass nickered as they stepped into the spring sunlight. She was one of the more docile fillies at Witch Creek until you got on her back. Ripley smiled when she pushed her back a few steps. You pretty girl. Too bad that attitude doesn't carry over to me on your back. Hourglass sidestepped, rolling her eyes in the way of a defiant child. Ripley mocked the filly and quickly bounded into the saddle. The moment she settled, Hourglass reared up, pawing with ears pinned. Alucard backed up even as Maggie swung aboard, eyes anxious, but not overly worried. He was used to his rebellious workmate by now. Maggie patted the handsome colt's neck. Good guy.
Ripley slammed the filly back to the earth and let her out into a quick canter down the path and then off toward the turf track. Her thick body moved with an agility that one would not normally expect. Maggie leaned close to Alu's neck, nudged him forward and sent him running. The broad-chested bay colt swept after The Devil's Hourglass with great strides and a level body. Hourglass skipped over the grass, her strides coming quick as she moved over the turf. Her eyes were wild, her ears lost in her thick black mane. The horses flew over the turf hills, hooves thudding against the warming earth.
Alu took the lead from Hourglass as they rolled down the hillside. Hourglass settled back though her eyes flashed when he took the lead. Ripley was quiet, letting the two year old filly play her own games. Alu stretched himself out, sweeping over the turf with bounding strides. Hourglass galloped eagerly though she settled and power coursed through the reins and into Ripley. Her adrenalin pumped as the speed increased with every stunning furlong. Alucard increased the pace, keeping Hourglass at bay with his tactics. He was warm and brilliant. The complete opposite to his other self. Maggie felt their shared joy rise as they dashed into the three furlong stretch ahead of The Devil's Hourglass.
The equine pair went from fast to flying in about three great strides, putting distance between themselves and the hills behind them. Hourglass dashed up to run nose and nose with Alucard. Alucard glared with fiery eyes, ears pinned. He would not let her walk over him this time. With pace increasing increment by increment, the jockeys gradually began to stoke the fire. A flick of rein here and Hourglass lead. A murmur had Alucard rushing to meet the bold challenge. The rivalry bloomed and grew. Alucard kicked up the pace suddenly, launching clods of turf back behind him. He burst forward with determination and swept to the win by a neck. Hourglass squealed, learning from Cross My Heart apparently, and stormed by him as Maggie pulled him up. Ripley let the rush of power run through her as the cyclone whipped to full force. She left Alucard behind in an unfair fight, but her rebellion was on full display. Ripley grinned wildly as the sturdy mare launched up the hillside with bold strides.
These two had talent in spades.
Maggie pursed her lips, turned to eye Ripley. Hourglass served up notice in her last race though. She looked great and it's nice to see her put it all together. But... they both could use a fiery workout... and a possible leak to the press that they mean notice. Ripley smirked, slung an arm over her friend's shoulders. Just my kind of girl. If you were a man Maggiletti Reynold, I'd marry you. The blonde chuckled, glad to see Ripley's guard come down for a moment. Their friendship was blooming again and it was amazing. So... Ripley how interested are you in maintaining the primary rider position of Indian Darling? Ripley cocked an eyebrow as she led the muscled Hourglass out of her stall, noting the powerful dog shake. Depends on who is looking to ride. Maggie pursed her lips. Laura? Ripley thought about it, ran her hands down the savage face that belonged to the daughter of her best ride. I'll have to think about it Maggie. I'm searching for answers and I want results for Darla. She deserves it... Let me sleep on it. Maggie nodded, happy with the response. She hadn't expected such a relaxed answer from the owner.
Hourglass stomped a hoof, stretched her neck, shaking out her mane. She nudged Ripley, eyes bright and excited. She was the picture of pure health and racehorse. She also looked more like a three year old than the average two year old. She was the sports car of Ripley's Gorgon sisters. A blast to ride with a swift kick up the stretch, Hourglass had finally kicked into gear and drew away from an older horse in her maiden race. There were few like her and if it took three races to break her maiden, Ripley was not worried. There was plenty of time. She patted the filly's thick white star, pushing back the mane. Pretty girl. Maggie smiled, wished she could pull a similar move with Alucard, but was content with just standing in his presence. Alu was a rock-solid runner in his workout and a phenomenal galloper. Maggie was also not worried, but she was tired of waiting for the moment to come when he could rock and roll. Alu dipped his head briefly, mouthing the bit. He was ready to rock and roll and show off.
The women led the colt and filly out of the barn, dipping their heads up and down as they walked. Hourglass nickered as they stepped into the spring sunlight. She was one of the more docile fillies at Witch Creek until you got on her back. Ripley smiled when she pushed her back a few steps. You pretty girl. Too bad that attitude doesn't carry over to me on your back. Hourglass sidestepped, rolling her eyes in the way of a defiant child. Ripley mocked the filly and quickly bounded into the saddle. The moment she settled, Hourglass reared up, pawing with ears pinned. Alucard backed up even as Maggie swung aboard, eyes anxious, but not overly worried. He was used to his rebellious workmate by now. Maggie patted the handsome colt's neck. Good guy.
Ripley slammed the filly back to the earth and let her out into a quick canter down the path and then off toward the turf track. Her thick body moved with an agility that one would not normally expect. Maggie leaned close to Alu's neck, nudged him forward and sent him running. The broad-chested bay colt swept after The Devil's Hourglass with great strides and a level body. Hourglass skipped over the grass, her strides coming quick as she moved over the turf. Her eyes were wild, her ears lost in her thick black mane. The horses flew over the turf hills, hooves thudding against the warming earth.
Alu took the lead from Hourglass as they rolled down the hillside. Hourglass settled back though her eyes flashed when he took the lead. Ripley was quiet, letting the two year old filly play her own games. Alu stretched himself out, sweeping over the turf with bounding strides. Hourglass galloped eagerly though she settled and power coursed through the reins and into Ripley. Her adrenalin pumped as the speed increased with every stunning furlong. Alucard increased the pace, keeping Hourglass at bay with his tactics. He was warm and brilliant. The complete opposite to his other self. Maggie felt their shared joy rise as they dashed into the three furlong stretch ahead of The Devil's Hourglass.
The equine pair went from fast to flying in about three great strides, putting distance between themselves and the hills behind them. Hourglass dashed up to run nose and nose with Alucard. Alucard glared with fiery eyes, ears pinned. He would not let her walk over him this time. With pace increasing increment by increment, the jockeys gradually began to stoke the fire. A flick of rein here and Hourglass lead. A murmur had Alucard rushing to meet the bold challenge. The rivalry bloomed and grew. Alucard kicked up the pace suddenly, launching clods of turf back behind him. He burst forward with determination and swept to the win by a neck. Hourglass squealed, learning from Cross My Heart apparently, and stormed by him as Maggie pulled him up. Ripley let the rush of power run through her as the cyclone whipped to full force. She left Alucard behind in an unfair fight, but her rebellion was on full display. Ripley grinned wildly as the sturdy mare launched up the hillside with bold strides.
These two had talent in spades.
crown me already
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
Two horses were bent on frustration. Both of them were extremely solid performers in every single race they ran in, but those wins continued to be elusive. The wins that would prove their championship worth and the right to fit in with the Witch Creek string. GS Royal Crown had been considered the top contender for the Turf Triple Crown until he had turned in a relatively consistent, but not impressive two year old season. Bella Luna had swept right by him becoming the shockingly beautiful candidate for the TTC. GS Royal Crown would most likely wait until the Canadian Triple Crown to flaunt his stuff and hopefully make a name for himself like originally planned. The other horse was even more consistent if that was possible. Cross My Heart had finished one-two in every single start of her career up until the first race in Year Thirteen where she had finished third. Her record was still perfect and she was still the Breeders Cup Juvenile Turf Sprint champion. Few horses could light a candle to her gate to wire and her year was going to get tougher. While her competitors in the Rush Stakes at GHF had run only in minor stakes races at The Wire, the majority of Cross My Heart's races had been run in higher level stakes at both Green Horse Fields and The Wire. Cross had a right to have a less win percentage and she would not be hiding behind smaller races in order to stake her claim for the sprint leadership in the three year old division. She was a dog-fighter, she was the champion despite what the awards ceremonies had said at both The Wire and Green Horse Fields. Ripley was not slighted in the least and neither was the black tornado that she would ride.
Maggie and Ripley brushed their mounts of steely-dappled gray and midnight-black. They hummed and talked, argued about which horses would be the top players this season for both themselves and the competitors. Most importantly, they discussed their mounts. I don't know what's up with him Ripley... But he's on edge... I think he is ready for a bigger season than we expected of him. Ripley glanced at Crow who stood with his neck bowed, chin to chest. He looked like a Trojan horse with that trimmed mane of his. He also looked defiant and strong. Nothing like what Frozen Motion had looked like as a three year old. Freeze had been calm and quiet. This one was a firecracker waiting to explode. Ripley hummed, He does... doesn't he? I'll think he'll do really well for you Mags. I see what you're talking about. It's not a bad edge though.
Cross nickered softly, eyes glinting with a softness that was finally making its appearance. She was the flighty filly of the bunch with an attitude that both endeared and pushed you away. The black dipped her head, tossing it until Ripley rubbed that itchy white marking down her face. You're on edge too, aren't you Lady Jane? That third place finish irritated you. I don't blame you. We're ready for this one though. Aren't we girl? Cross snorted as if responding and stomped her right fore-hoof commandingly. Ripley took that as an affirmative. Maggie glanced up as she slid the saddle onto Crow's glistening molten back. What are you going to do when you face the Terrible Two?
Ripley didn't even bother to mull it over. Run them off their feet. She broke a record winning that Breeders Cup race and while they may think she's an easy target because she'll come back... I don't think think she will. She's got stamina potential, Mags. I like her at these sprint distances and our hills here are giving her a boost that she missed towards the end of last season when that track was closed. Her gallops have been sensational and I think she is going to be looking for revenge after that third place... I don't care about records and subjective awards. I have a darn good sprinting filly and in the end I wouldn't trade places with anyone.
Maggie smirked as she guided Crow around Cross. It wasn't often that Ripley went on such a heated rant like this, but when she did it was nice. The woman had a right to be confident and she didn't believe she was being overconfident. Both of the other three year olds in the race could have faced Cross in the Breeders Cup. They hadn't and Cross had won with all of the speed in the world. Well you take the race to them Ripley. Let's see what that black tornado of yours has got. Ripley smiled broadly at Maggie as she flipped casually onto Cross' back without the use of the mounting block. Cross bowed her head and leaped into a fleeting canter down the path. Crow jumped forward, ears pinned back as she took command. He hated giving Cross the lead. He knew she did all her damage there. Maggie patted his neck softly, speaking calm words. The steel gray had a fire in him now that he hadn't had last year. He was tough and strong. There was something in him that said: Look Out!
The pair of horses slipped into a cruising gallop down the hills and toward the turf track where they would ultimately be turned loose on the flat. Crow galloped easily along, his motion faster than what he actually was doing. His lean dappled gray frame covered the ground with tremendous strides and he easily took to the differing elevations without a worry. Maggie leaned close, feeling the sureness of power glimmering beneath his steely hide. GS Royal Crown was back in action and ready to roll. Ripley kept her hands silent and soft as Cross swept over the track. Not one for galloping, Cross' action was more geared toward sprinting straight out. She was a strong minded filly and forgot about everything except flying and battling. She was good at both and all of her competition could attest to that. Her hooves skimmed the springy grass as if she was instead floating on air. Her head was high and her tail was lifted, betraying the easiness of it all. Flying was natural and easy. Cross was loaded with stamina.
Ripley smirked as they swept up and over the next set of hills, setting quick fractions without much effort. GS Royal Crown skipped along behind them by about two lengths. Maggie was quiet and he did it all on his own. His ears were locked forward, listening to every quick huff that Cross let out through her nostrils. He was tuned in and loaded. He wanted to run her down, but Maggie kept her hands on the bit, reminding him that she was the center of control. Their positions did not change through the mile and a quarter sprint-gallop. Neither of them were growing tired and both of them were ready to be let loose.
The second Cross reached the head, lights went on in her eyes, bulbs in her head and she instantly seemed a happier horse. Ripley called to her, softening the war light in her eyes before she took off down the hillside. Crow rumbled up to their side and suddenly all bets were off for both horses and riders. The dappled gray and black stormed down the track, legs kicking up clods of turf with startling speed. They went head and head, eyes lit with fire as they found that they could run one another, but not kick on ahead. Cross huffed and snorted as she straightened out, moving into the fastest racing speed Ripley would probably ever know. It was meant to destroy and bring the competition pleading to their knees. Crow fell back for a moment, not unharmed, before he gathered himself under Maggie's persistent urging. Ripley gawked in admiration and pleasant surprise when he dug back in and ran up to Cross' shoulder then neck. The black filly pinned her ears back, threatened with fiery gaze and kicked into her fastest gear yet.
Carried by momentum, Crow had no other choice but to go with her. He raced side by side with her, stuck there as if with Velcro. The pair swept through the last half-furlong under zero encouragement at their highest speed. Cross bolted forward, dipping her nose down at the last second, but neither horse truly knew who won. GS Royal Crown and Cross My Heart did not pull up easily, fighting for more ground and the chance to bury one another. Their frustrations were building, both wanted vengeance, and both wanted the chance to run into the winner's circle.
Maggie and Ripley brushed their mounts of steely-dappled gray and midnight-black. They hummed and talked, argued about which horses would be the top players this season for both themselves and the competitors. Most importantly, they discussed their mounts. I don't know what's up with him Ripley... But he's on edge... I think he is ready for a bigger season than we expected of him. Ripley glanced at Crow who stood with his neck bowed, chin to chest. He looked like a Trojan horse with that trimmed mane of his. He also looked defiant and strong. Nothing like what Frozen Motion had looked like as a three year old. Freeze had been calm and quiet. This one was a firecracker waiting to explode. Ripley hummed, He does... doesn't he? I'll think he'll do really well for you Mags. I see what you're talking about. It's not a bad edge though.
Cross nickered softly, eyes glinting with a softness that was finally making its appearance. She was the flighty filly of the bunch with an attitude that both endeared and pushed you away. The black dipped her head, tossing it until Ripley rubbed that itchy white marking down her face. You're on edge too, aren't you Lady Jane? That third place finish irritated you. I don't blame you. We're ready for this one though. Aren't we girl? Cross snorted as if responding and stomped her right fore-hoof commandingly. Ripley took that as an affirmative. Maggie glanced up as she slid the saddle onto Crow's glistening molten back. What are you going to do when you face the Terrible Two?
Ripley didn't even bother to mull it over. Run them off their feet. She broke a record winning that Breeders Cup race and while they may think she's an easy target because she'll come back... I don't think think she will. She's got stamina potential, Mags. I like her at these sprint distances and our hills here are giving her a boost that she missed towards the end of last season when that track was closed. Her gallops have been sensational and I think she is going to be looking for revenge after that third place... I don't care about records and subjective awards. I have a darn good sprinting filly and in the end I wouldn't trade places with anyone.
Maggie smirked as she guided Crow around Cross. It wasn't often that Ripley went on such a heated rant like this, but when she did it was nice. The woman had a right to be confident and she didn't believe she was being overconfident. Both of the other three year olds in the race could have faced Cross in the Breeders Cup. They hadn't and Cross had won with all of the speed in the world. Well you take the race to them Ripley. Let's see what that black tornado of yours has got. Ripley smiled broadly at Maggie as she flipped casually onto Cross' back without the use of the mounting block. Cross bowed her head and leaped into a fleeting canter down the path. Crow jumped forward, ears pinned back as she took command. He hated giving Cross the lead. He knew she did all her damage there. Maggie patted his neck softly, speaking calm words. The steel gray had a fire in him now that he hadn't had last year. He was tough and strong. There was something in him that said: Look Out!
The pair of horses slipped into a cruising gallop down the hills and toward the turf track where they would ultimately be turned loose on the flat. Crow galloped easily along, his motion faster than what he actually was doing. His lean dappled gray frame covered the ground with tremendous strides and he easily took to the differing elevations without a worry. Maggie leaned close, feeling the sureness of power glimmering beneath his steely hide. GS Royal Crown was back in action and ready to roll. Ripley kept her hands silent and soft as Cross swept over the track. Not one for galloping, Cross' action was more geared toward sprinting straight out. She was a strong minded filly and forgot about everything except flying and battling. She was good at both and all of her competition could attest to that. Her hooves skimmed the springy grass as if she was instead floating on air. Her head was high and her tail was lifted, betraying the easiness of it all. Flying was natural and easy. Cross was loaded with stamina.
Ripley smirked as they swept up and over the next set of hills, setting quick fractions without much effort. GS Royal Crown skipped along behind them by about two lengths. Maggie was quiet and he did it all on his own. His ears were locked forward, listening to every quick huff that Cross let out through her nostrils. He was tuned in and loaded. He wanted to run her down, but Maggie kept her hands on the bit, reminding him that she was the center of control. Their positions did not change through the mile and a quarter sprint-gallop. Neither of them were growing tired and both of them were ready to be let loose.
The second Cross reached the head, lights went on in her eyes, bulbs in her head and she instantly seemed a happier horse. Ripley called to her, softening the war light in her eyes before she took off down the hillside. Crow rumbled up to their side and suddenly all bets were off for both horses and riders. The dappled gray and black stormed down the track, legs kicking up clods of turf with startling speed. They went head and head, eyes lit with fire as they found that they could run one another, but not kick on ahead. Cross huffed and snorted as she straightened out, moving into the fastest racing speed Ripley would probably ever know. It was meant to destroy and bring the competition pleading to their knees. Crow fell back for a moment, not unharmed, before he gathered himself under Maggie's persistent urging. Ripley gawked in admiration and pleasant surprise when he dug back in and ran up to Cross' shoulder then neck. The black filly pinned her ears back, threatened with fiery gaze and kicked into her fastest gear yet.
Carried by momentum, Crow had no other choice but to go with her. He raced side by side with her, stuck there as if with Velcro. The pair swept through the last half-furlong under zero encouragement at their highest speed. Cross bolted forward, dipping her nose down at the last second, but neither horse truly knew who won. GS Royal Crown and Cross My Heart did not pull up easily, fighting for more ground and the chance to bury one another. Their frustrations were building, both wanted vengeance, and both wanted the chance to run into the winner's circle.
February Week Two
stars in her eyes
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
Maggie sighed as she looked out from the racing string barn at Witch Creek. It was so beautiful outside. The warm spring air flicked over her skin and birds chirped as they flew from tree to tree. There was a sense of peace that just could be found anywhere else. It was the promised peace that had brought her to Witch Creek in the first place. Ripley had some trait that attracted the peaceful nature and type. Maggie was never more happy to have the auburn haired woman as a friend in her rough times. Ripley could block the pain of the past from the rest, though Maggie knew it was hard for her to block pain from affecting her own self. The shield did not extend to protect its host. The blonde chewed on her lip as she watched Malcolm lead Sun King from the yearling barn to the track. The colt's fire red hide shone brightly amid all the green. He pushed Malcolm roughly on the shoulder, but the man ignored him. His Celtic blue eyes would take in the son of Native Flame and El Sol del Mar, examine and turn that young defiance into nothing but well-mannered behavior. Maggie ducked into the shadows when he turned, sensing he was being watched.
A hand clamped down on her shoulder and Maggie let out a shrill scream. The person whipped her around and snappy green eyes met her gaze. If Ripley was a sea of calm, Laura was a volcano waiting to erupt. God Maggiletti! Get a hold of yourself! If you like him so much ask him out on a date. I'm tired of your moping. Maggie's baby blue eyes lit up with fire and she stalked into the barn. Wish's star-and-striped face poked out over the stall door, eyes bright and glimmering with her usual controlled excitement. Maggie patted the filly's soft nose, taking in her gentle features. I don't like Malcolm. He's just an employee here at Witch Creek. Laura scoffed as she cut across to the stall opposite from Wish Upon A Star. A delicate face poked over the stall door, plain and brown, surrounded by a whirl of black mane. Indian Darling wasn't a knockout until you could see into her eyes. The bay filly had fire in her. It was clear and sharp as day. Laura hadn't even been riding her a day before their first race together, but Darla had knocked it out of the park in the Ambivalence Handicap. Hopefully, it was a sign that this partnership would be a break through. Laura knew Ripley was sad to lose the mount, sad because she was trying to bring her career to a close.
And Brookson is just an employee to Ripley? Laura snapped as she led Darla out of the stall. The bay filly ducked her head for the clips to be placed on her halter. Maggie was quiet as she led Wish out to face Darla in the opposite pair of cross-ties. You and I both know that the only reason Ripley is giving up mounts left and right is so that she doesn't have to look at Brooks. What happened Maggie? Mags cast a pained look at Laura. Her niece saw too much for such a prickly person. The women picked up brushes and set to groom the horses. Wish leaned into the brush, eyes softening as she felt the pain pass through Maggie's veins. Brooks asked her for her hand in marriage. She turned him down. Laura didn't freeze up and Maggie hadn't expected her to. Laura was a rock in times of sadness and anger. There is obviously a reason then. Maggie hummed as she picked up Wish's hooves. She doesn't want to get attached. Her first engagement went south around the time that her parents died in that car crash. Laura sighed, leaned into Darla's beautifully crested neck. She felt her own tinge of sadness. Her father had left her mother and her when she was six. The pain was still there. There had been no father-daughter dances and would be none when she found her mate.
It's too late to get attached. They've already been together for a year now. She's going to have to see that Brooks will stick. Maggie nodded again in agreement as she lifted the saddle to Wish's beautifully conformed back. The Everyday Hero daughter tossed her head, eyes flickering with excitement and contentment. She was a good filly and she was going to have a good year if Maggie figured her out. Wish was at an odd stage. She could compete in many major races, but couldn't complete them. She would miss the first Tiara race no matter the surface because eight furlongs was too short. But maybe that was for the best. It would give her more time to run and hopefully to win. Wish was coming around, becoming more focused as she'd proven in her first race of the season. The All Along Stakes was next. She would face former Witch Creek filly Fleet Majesty. Maggie was happy. Wish would do well against a former stable-mate.
Laura guided Indian Darling around Wish and out of the barn. The filly high-stepped a circle around Laura, playing with the bit as she danced. The Native Flame daughter was a gorgeous filly. Lots of class and attitude. She was hard nosed and steady as they came. Laura liked her willingness to partner up in the heat of a battle. There was no plan for Darla just yet. Ripley in the air about sending her to the Triple Tiara and she too would miss the first race because her distance was at nine furlongs and up. Laura could say good riddance. Indian Darling didn't need to face all of the early season performers the first time they met anyway. She swung up on the bay filly, nickering as she caught sight of Jabberwock parading about in a paddock. Laura patted her neck. Darla was not insusceptible to the advances of that one. Heck if Laura was a mare, she wouldn't be either. Laura asked the filly to walk down the dirt path, slow enough for Maggie to mount up and join her.
Maggie's eyes brightened the moment she hit the saddle and felt the classic lines of her filly. Wish was gorgeous and wonderful to ride. She had class and talent, was strong and capable. The filly bowed her neck, her lighter bay coat gleaming next to the darker bay shadow of Indian Darling. The pair of fillies had become good friends and picked up a trot at the same time, in tune with one another. Laura felt the fire burning inside Indian Darling. It was always present and it was a wild fire. If let loose few would be standing in its wake. Darla cocked her ears back and forth, listening as the broodmares galloped up the hillside in their ten acre pasture. Wish turned her head, but a kind flick from Maggie had her refocusing. Wish could get a little distracted, but never during a race. She was a solid runner with excellent potential.
They broke into a conservative gallop the moment they set hoof on the track. Wish stretched out along the rail and Indian Darling moved with perfect collectiveness, but always threatening to explode. Laura leaned close, hands light, eyes focused. This was a good filly waiting to prove her worth. Just like herself. Red hair mingled with black mane as they galloped up the homestretch. The tension between fillies began to crackle and pop. Their affection for one another in the barn and on the path was beginning to dissipate. Each of them knew the value of competition quite well and it could run rampant in their blood. There was nothing like a Thoroughbred with courage and speed to burn.
Wish's stride was fluent and gentle as she took to the curve of the rail. She was not intimidated by the pulling, snorting Indian Darling. She was quiet and calm, a complete opposite of Maggie. She was not so quick to pick up on emotions like Indian Darling was. The bay filly was a little Trojan horse waiting to kick into battle where Wish was apt to take everything in until she could seize her moment and run away. The gallop became quicker with every stride over the loamy sand. Their eyes were bright and focused and they were brilliantly strong. Maggie actually felt Wish begin to snatch at the bit. Her blue eyes crackled, impressed. Wish was finally getting into the racing scene, finally taking her job to the next level.
They whipped through the mile and a quarter gallop with the ease of trained professionals. Any horse that could run this well at three had to be a professional. A jerk of the fingers and a flexing of adrenaline and the bay three year olds were soaring. The wind cut viciously into the womens' eyes. Laura and Maggie yanked their goggles down at the whipping bite of it. Indian Darling had a half-length advantage on Wish already. The Native Flame daughter could really rocket forward. Laura wondered if perhaps she was more versatile than everyone gave her credit for. To test the theory, Laura tapped on the gas and Darla rocketed forward, legs pumping with insane energy and the theory of volcanic eruption was blasted into space. Maggie grunted, not bothering to hide her pride. Laura could ride the Hell off of most trained professionals. She leaned close, guided Wish off the rail and to the outside of Indian Darling. It clicked in Wish's head what she was supposed to do. With shocking sureness, Wish surged forward, bit between her teeth to challenge Indian Darling at the head of the stretch.
Their legs became blurs beneath them as the speed over whelmed them and took them to places where they had never before. The horses were flying becoming a relic of a God, not a mere mortal's horse. Laura and Maggie clung to them, half lost in the whipping of black mane. Wish leveled out, pulling everything she could from her slightly leaner body. Indian Darling stayed upright, legs moving faster to hold her off. Together Wish and Indian Darling roared under the wire, speed dangerous and deadly.
The lock had been turned by a key. All the negative energy had been released as it had in Pandora's box. Now hope remained and that was the most charming gift of all. The riders stood in the stirrups, pretended to ignore the shaking in their lower legs. Laura high fived Maggie, letting out a hoot of enthusiasm. Now that's what I'm talking about! Maggie grinned, leaned down and kissed Wish's proudly bent neck. Awesome lady. Now let's take it to the track!
A hand clamped down on her shoulder and Maggie let out a shrill scream. The person whipped her around and snappy green eyes met her gaze. If Ripley was a sea of calm, Laura was a volcano waiting to erupt. God Maggiletti! Get a hold of yourself! If you like him so much ask him out on a date. I'm tired of your moping. Maggie's baby blue eyes lit up with fire and she stalked into the barn. Wish's star-and-striped face poked out over the stall door, eyes bright and glimmering with her usual controlled excitement. Maggie patted the filly's soft nose, taking in her gentle features. I don't like Malcolm. He's just an employee here at Witch Creek. Laura scoffed as she cut across to the stall opposite from Wish Upon A Star. A delicate face poked over the stall door, plain and brown, surrounded by a whirl of black mane. Indian Darling wasn't a knockout until you could see into her eyes. The bay filly had fire in her. It was clear and sharp as day. Laura hadn't even been riding her a day before their first race together, but Darla had knocked it out of the park in the Ambivalence Handicap. Hopefully, it was a sign that this partnership would be a break through. Laura knew Ripley was sad to lose the mount, sad because she was trying to bring her career to a close.
And Brookson is just an employee to Ripley? Laura snapped as she led Darla out of the stall. The bay filly ducked her head for the clips to be placed on her halter. Maggie was quiet as she led Wish out to face Darla in the opposite pair of cross-ties. You and I both know that the only reason Ripley is giving up mounts left and right is so that she doesn't have to look at Brooks. What happened Maggie? Mags cast a pained look at Laura. Her niece saw too much for such a prickly person. The women picked up brushes and set to groom the horses. Wish leaned into the brush, eyes softening as she felt the pain pass through Maggie's veins. Brooks asked her for her hand in marriage. She turned him down. Laura didn't freeze up and Maggie hadn't expected her to. Laura was a rock in times of sadness and anger. There is obviously a reason then. Maggie hummed as she picked up Wish's hooves. She doesn't want to get attached. Her first engagement went south around the time that her parents died in that car crash. Laura sighed, leaned into Darla's beautifully crested neck. She felt her own tinge of sadness. Her father had left her mother and her when she was six. The pain was still there. There had been no father-daughter dances and would be none when she found her mate.
It's too late to get attached. They've already been together for a year now. She's going to have to see that Brooks will stick. Maggie nodded again in agreement as she lifted the saddle to Wish's beautifully conformed back. The Everyday Hero daughter tossed her head, eyes flickering with excitement and contentment. She was a good filly and she was going to have a good year if Maggie figured her out. Wish was at an odd stage. She could compete in many major races, but couldn't complete them. She would miss the first Tiara race no matter the surface because eight furlongs was too short. But maybe that was for the best. It would give her more time to run and hopefully to win. Wish was coming around, becoming more focused as she'd proven in her first race of the season. The All Along Stakes was next. She would face former Witch Creek filly Fleet Majesty. Maggie was happy. Wish would do well against a former stable-mate.
Laura guided Indian Darling around Wish and out of the barn. The filly high-stepped a circle around Laura, playing with the bit as she danced. The Native Flame daughter was a gorgeous filly. Lots of class and attitude. She was hard nosed and steady as they came. Laura liked her willingness to partner up in the heat of a battle. There was no plan for Darla just yet. Ripley in the air about sending her to the Triple Tiara and she too would miss the first race because her distance was at nine furlongs and up. Laura could say good riddance. Indian Darling didn't need to face all of the early season performers the first time they met anyway. She swung up on the bay filly, nickering as she caught sight of Jabberwock parading about in a paddock. Laura patted her neck. Darla was not insusceptible to the advances of that one. Heck if Laura was a mare, she wouldn't be either. Laura asked the filly to walk down the dirt path, slow enough for Maggie to mount up and join her.
Maggie's eyes brightened the moment she hit the saddle and felt the classic lines of her filly. Wish was gorgeous and wonderful to ride. She had class and talent, was strong and capable. The filly bowed her neck, her lighter bay coat gleaming next to the darker bay shadow of Indian Darling. The pair of fillies had become good friends and picked up a trot at the same time, in tune with one another. Laura felt the fire burning inside Indian Darling. It was always present and it was a wild fire. If let loose few would be standing in its wake. Darla cocked her ears back and forth, listening as the broodmares galloped up the hillside in their ten acre pasture. Wish turned her head, but a kind flick from Maggie had her refocusing. Wish could get a little distracted, but never during a race. She was a solid runner with excellent potential.
They broke into a conservative gallop the moment they set hoof on the track. Wish stretched out along the rail and Indian Darling moved with perfect collectiveness, but always threatening to explode. Laura leaned close, hands light, eyes focused. This was a good filly waiting to prove her worth. Just like herself. Red hair mingled with black mane as they galloped up the homestretch. The tension between fillies began to crackle and pop. Their affection for one another in the barn and on the path was beginning to dissipate. Each of them knew the value of competition quite well and it could run rampant in their blood. There was nothing like a Thoroughbred with courage and speed to burn.
Wish's stride was fluent and gentle as she took to the curve of the rail. She was not intimidated by the pulling, snorting Indian Darling. She was quiet and calm, a complete opposite of Maggie. She was not so quick to pick up on emotions like Indian Darling was. The bay filly was a little Trojan horse waiting to kick into battle where Wish was apt to take everything in until she could seize her moment and run away. The gallop became quicker with every stride over the loamy sand. Their eyes were bright and focused and they were brilliantly strong. Maggie actually felt Wish begin to snatch at the bit. Her blue eyes crackled, impressed. Wish was finally getting into the racing scene, finally taking her job to the next level.
They whipped through the mile and a quarter gallop with the ease of trained professionals. Any horse that could run this well at three had to be a professional. A jerk of the fingers and a flexing of adrenaline and the bay three year olds were soaring. The wind cut viciously into the womens' eyes. Laura and Maggie yanked their goggles down at the whipping bite of it. Indian Darling had a half-length advantage on Wish already. The Native Flame daughter could really rocket forward. Laura wondered if perhaps she was more versatile than everyone gave her credit for. To test the theory, Laura tapped on the gas and Darla rocketed forward, legs pumping with insane energy and the theory of volcanic eruption was blasted into space. Maggie grunted, not bothering to hide her pride. Laura could ride the Hell off of most trained professionals. She leaned close, guided Wish off the rail and to the outside of Indian Darling. It clicked in Wish's head what she was supposed to do. With shocking sureness, Wish surged forward, bit between her teeth to challenge Indian Darling at the head of the stretch.
Their legs became blurs beneath them as the speed over whelmed them and took them to places where they had never before. The horses were flying becoming a relic of a God, not a mere mortal's horse. Laura and Maggie clung to them, half lost in the whipping of black mane. Wish leveled out, pulling everything she could from her slightly leaner body. Indian Darling stayed upright, legs moving faster to hold her off. Together Wish and Indian Darling roared under the wire, speed dangerous and deadly.
The lock had been turned by a key. All the negative energy had been released as it had in Pandora's box. Now hope remained and that was the most charming gift of all. The riders stood in the stirrups, pretended to ignore the shaking in their lower legs. Laura high fived Maggie, letting out a hoot of enthusiasm. Now that's what I'm talking about! Maggie grinned, leaned down and kissed Wish's proudly bent neck. Awesome lady. Now let's take it to the track!
no guts, no glory
Justin dashed into the barn, feet tripping up as he went from the soft dirt to the intensity of rubber mats. This would be an exercise to remember. His future super star versus Maggie's Turf Triple Crown prospect. He stumbled dramatically as he went from soft sand to hard rubber mats. He nearly fell, but his reflexes prevented such a display of clumsiness. Only two horses besides his remained in the barn today. Everyone else had received their morning gallops and were out enjoying the rest of the day in their grouped paddocks. His horse, the unflappable and domineering bay, glared at him with all of the annoyance and disgust capable of belonging to a Thoroughbred. The monster sized Hokum could care less when it come to demonstrations of pure clumsiness and on most days did not tolerate any human being. He had very few uses for them, particularly this one, and even then it was only because of food and running. Which, if left to his own devices, Hokum could do on his own time and at his own pace. He blew through his nostrils as the kid whipped open the stall door. Justin was later than late today and a sigh of relief burst from his chest at the sight of the tack clinging to Hokum's smooth frame. Someone had been nice enough to do this for him. He glared as he untangled the reins beneath Hokum's neck. Now he would have to pay them back all because of Brooks not moving his butt faster than turtle speed.
Hokum balked briefly when Justin yanked on the reins for forward movement. His eyes lit up with fire and rage. He looked like the stallion he would grow up to be. Tough, daring and courageous. But first he had to train and race and prove all three traits in said races. Lacking patience, Justin leaped aboard the colt right then and there inside the barn. Jamming his heels into the sides of the Kore VS son, Justin gathered himself. The broad-shouldered bay leaped from a standstill, jerking the mats backward as he got his grip. With the power of the strongest animal on the planet, Hokum bolted out of the barn, sending whinnies up from Mastermind and Van Guard. Justin guided the colt at a gallop down the hillside toward the track, dark eyes brightening when he caught sight of Reese and Bella Luna. His instincts had been right that he would find them there. Reese looked up, hailed him with a smile and a wave of her hand.
Reese loved Justin for his sense of adventure. Ripley and Brooks would never gallop down the hillside like that with their horses. The kid could ride and the horse could run for him. Hokum pulled up feet before he reached Bella Luna. The gray filly tossed her head nervously, but stood her ground between Reese's legs. Reese turned away from Justin as he patted Hokum's tense neck and looked away to the track. Malcolm was out there with Laura. They were spinning a pair of horses around them on lunge-lines. Malcolm held down the fort while the Crooked Fire filly dashed around him like a llama. Call Me Crooked was one defiant son of a gun. She bounded about, kicking up her heels, cocking her striped head this way and that to defy his control. Crook would be Maggie's future mount and hopefully in the future she would be where Reese and Bella now stood. On the edge of the Turf Triple Crown and waiting to conquer.
Justin watched Laura spin like a dancer in the center of her circle. He tried not to focus on her frame, but it just didn't happen. Laura was perfect and beautiful. He didn't see the skinny-as-a-bean pole look that most people saw. Rather he saw an athletic beauty and agility that came with the territory. She danced with Maximum Impact, the newest yearling that Ripley had dug up. The 16.2 hand yearling was easily the largest of that crop at the moment. He was a grumpy horse, but out here you could never tell. Justin thought Laura and Max fit like a glove and he knew Ripley had seen it too. Reese patted his shoulder, her sharp brown eyes glinting with the dig before she even said it. Justin rolled his eyes as the expected words rang out: Got it bad don't you? Justin grunted. No but you will when Hokum and I beat you in this workout.
Not a chance. The riders bolted at the same time then, moving into action and bolstering their mounts. Hokum got a very brief jump on Bella Luna. There were not many horses his size that had such a swift kick. Bella fell back momentarily on the onslaught, but she was quick and was soon galloping head and head with Hokum toward the turf track. Reese was so pleased with the way Bella was behaving this year. She'd done a complete turn around since she'd taken over. Few horses could beat them and it was so stunning to know that. They'd beaten one of the Breeders Cup Juvenile Turf winners Ode To Glory and would face him and his dead-heat partner in that race: Blue Me Away. But Reese wasn't worried. Her partnership with Bella Luna was blooming and the gray had stolen away with two victories in her first two starts of Year Thirteen. She was a mighty good filly and Reese couldn't wait to prove it throughout the Turf Triple Crown.
Bella met the rage glinting in Hokum's eye as they swept up the first hillside. Her lean dappled gray frame carried her far despite Hokum's obvious advantage in size. She skimmed over the track like a seagull over the ocean. She was glorious in full flight with dark gray mane flipping back and forth over her neck. Hokum settled into stride beneath Justin, letting off the gas as they cruised down the hillside. Justin perched lightly over the colt's withers, brown eyes focused on the greenery before them. Hokum was a dangerous combination of power and pure speed. He could easily hand most horse's their heads on a silver platter, but he was still battling with inexperience. He had put it all together in his last start and now he would begin to figure out what racing was all about.
Bella leveled out between the hills, her strides long and fluid. Reese could almost fall asleep on her. The filly was that smooth. Hokum rumbled alongside them like an ever threatening train and Reese could compare him with Blue Me Away's tactic in the West Virginia Derby. Bella would settle behind him and stalk maybe from the outside, maybe from the inside, depending on how they were feeling after the break. Reese calmed down, fingers relaxing enough that Bella began to relax as well. She fell back letting Hokum take his lovely lead though he usually was a stalker himself. The gray was liquid in her hands. Justin could feel the punch that Reese and Bella Luna packed and he was not surprised that they had been hard to beat lately. Hokum was facing an experienced pro. The giant bay could learn though. Bella settled off his hip and Hokum slowed down. The workout became a breeze, but a lesson was being learned. Justin grinned widely as Hokum settled even while his blood boiled beneath that shocking hide of his. Hokum could learn from Bella and Bella would get challenge from Hokum.
The pair swept up and over the last hill of the mile and quarter gallop. Reese grunted, leaning close to Bella's neck as she took the gentle curve with relative ease. Less sure, Hokum slowed to allow Bella Luna to take the lead momentarily. Justin's adrenaline pounded through his veins as they touched down on the flat. A flick of his wrist and Hokum was taking off like a jumbo jet. The big bay colt roared forward, pushing off mightily from the turf below. Bella reacted to him more than Reese, pinning her ears back in her newfound competitive spirit and surged up to meet the challenge. They swept across the greenery, a beautiful sight beneath the robin egg blue sky. Their hoofbeats echoed up between the hillside as they picked up speed with every great stride. Hokum was relentless. He stuck it to Bella Luna as she ground down to take the lead by a nose. Hokum's eyes glinted with respect and fire. He could not shake her. She could not shake him.
Reese did not ask for more speed and neither did Justin. They could save what energy they had for the track. Their mounts were ready for the challenges of a lifetime. It was time to accept that their destiny was drawing closer and closer with every leaping stride they took over the homestretch. Bella Luna flicked her ears briefly as if sensing the importance of this workout. Without so much as an excuse me, the gray filly charged forward, head down to accept the win.
Hokum balked briefly when Justin yanked on the reins for forward movement. His eyes lit up with fire and rage. He looked like the stallion he would grow up to be. Tough, daring and courageous. But first he had to train and race and prove all three traits in said races. Lacking patience, Justin leaped aboard the colt right then and there inside the barn. Jamming his heels into the sides of the Kore VS son, Justin gathered himself. The broad-shouldered bay leaped from a standstill, jerking the mats backward as he got his grip. With the power of the strongest animal on the planet, Hokum bolted out of the barn, sending whinnies up from Mastermind and Van Guard. Justin guided the colt at a gallop down the hillside toward the track, dark eyes brightening when he caught sight of Reese and Bella Luna. His instincts had been right that he would find them there. Reese looked up, hailed him with a smile and a wave of her hand.
Reese loved Justin for his sense of adventure. Ripley and Brooks would never gallop down the hillside like that with their horses. The kid could ride and the horse could run for him. Hokum pulled up feet before he reached Bella Luna. The gray filly tossed her head nervously, but stood her ground between Reese's legs. Reese turned away from Justin as he patted Hokum's tense neck and looked away to the track. Malcolm was out there with Laura. They were spinning a pair of horses around them on lunge-lines. Malcolm held down the fort while the Crooked Fire filly dashed around him like a llama. Call Me Crooked was one defiant son of a gun. She bounded about, kicking up her heels, cocking her striped head this way and that to defy his control. Crook would be Maggie's future mount and hopefully in the future she would be where Reese and Bella now stood. On the edge of the Turf Triple Crown and waiting to conquer.
Justin watched Laura spin like a dancer in the center of her circle. He tried not to focus on her frame, but it just didn't happen. Laura was perfect and beautiful. He didn't see the skinny-as-a-bean pole look that most people saw. Rather he saw an athletic beauty and agility that came with the territory. She danced with Maximum Impact, the newest yearling that Ripley had dug up. The 16.2 hand yearling was easily the largest of that crop at the moment. He was a grumpy horse, but out here you could never tell. Justin thought Laura and Max fit like a glove and he knew Ripley had seen it too. Reese patted his shoulder, her sharp brown eyes glinting with the dig before she even said it. Justin rolled his eyes as the expected words rang out: Got it bad don't you? Justin grunted. No but you will when Hokum and I beat you in this workout.
Not a chance. The riders bolted at the same time then, moving into action and bolstering their mounts. Hokum got a very brief jump on Bella Luna. There were not many horses his size that had such a swift kick. Bella fell back momentarily on the onslaught, but she was quick and was soon galloping head and head with Hokum toward the turf track. Reese was so pleased with the way Bella was behaving this year. She'd done a complete turn around since she'd taken over. Few horses could beat them and it was so stunning to know that. They'd beaten one of the Breeders Cup Juvenile Turf winners Ode To Glory and would face him and his dead-heat partner in that race: Blue Me Away. But Reese wasn't worried. Her partnership with Bella Luna was blooming and the gray had stolen away with two victories in her first two starts of Year Thirteen. She was a mighty good filly and Reese couldn't wait to prove it throughout the Turf Triple Crown.
Bella met the rage glinting in Hokum's eye as they swept up the first hillside. Her lean dappled gray frame carried her far despite Hokum's obvious advantage in size. She skimmed over the track like a seagull over the ocean. She was glorious in full flight with dark gray mane flipping back and forth over her neck. Hokum settled into stride beneath Justin, letting off the gas as they cruised down the hillside. Justin perched lightly over the colt's withers, brown eyes focused on the greenery before them. Hokum was a dangerous combination of power and pure speed. He could easily hand most horse's their heads on a silver platter, but he was still battling with inexperience. He had put it all together in his last start and now he would begin to figure out what racing was all about.
Bella leveled out between the hills, her strides long and fluid. Reese could almost fall asleep on her. The filly was that smooth. Hokum rumbled alongside them like an ever threatening train and Reese could compare him with Blue Me Away's tactic in the West Virginia Derby. Bella would settle behind him and stalk maybe from the outside, maybe from the inside, depending on how they were feeling after the break. Reese calmed down, fingers relaxing enough that Bella began to relax as well. She fell back letting Hokum take his lovely lead though he usually was a stalker himself. The gray was liquid in her hands. Justin could feel the punch that Reese and Bella Luna packed and he was not surprised that they had been hard to beat lately. Hokum was facing an experienced pro. The giant bay could learn though. Bella settled off his hip and Hokum slowed down. The workout became a breeze, but a lesson was being learned. Justin grinned widely as Hokum settled even while his blood boiled beneath that shocking hide of his. Hokum could learn from Bella and Bella would get challenge from Hokum.
The pair swept up and over the last hill of the mile and quarter gallop. Reese grunted, leaning close to Bella's neck as she took the gentle curve with relative ease. Less sure, Hokum slowed to allow Bella Luna to take the lead momentarily. Justin's adrenaline pounded through his veins as they touched down on the flat. A flick of his wrist and Hokum was taking off like a jumbo jet. The big bay colt roared forward, pushing off mightily from the turf below. Bella reacted to him more than Reese, pinning her ears back in her newfound competitive spirit and surged up to meet the challenge. They swept across the greenery, a beautiful sight beneath the robin egg blue sky. Their hoofbeats echoed up between the hillside as they picked up speed with every great stride. Hokum was relentless. He stuck it to Bella Luna as she ground down to take the lead by a nose. Hokum's eyes glinted with respect and fire. He could not shake her. She could not shake him.
Reese did not ask for more speed and neither did Justin. They could save what energy they had for the track. Their mounts were ready for the challenges of a lifetime. It was time to accept that their destiny was drawing closer and closer with every leaping stride they took over the homestretch. Bella Luna flicked her ears briefly as if sensing the importance of this workout. Without so much as an excuse me, the gray filly charged forward, head down to accept the win.
guard your mind
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
Ripley was absolutely floored as she raced into the barn. Her workouts were going better than expected. Her horses were doing better than expected and her stock was becoming the toughest group of three year olds out on the track. Sure she had to make some improvements here and there, but God, she couldn't believe the talent and luck within this group. A flicker of wistfulness ducked into her gaze. It was only a pity that this roster could not stick around longer. Everyone needed to retire sometime. Including her. Brushing the thought off like a pesky fly, Ripley ducked into the stall on the left side of her office. Brooks had worked his magic somehow and a fully tacked Mastermind stood glaring her down. His nostrils flared at her scent, his copper colored body glinted and arrogance filled his warm brown eyes. Ripley stroked his neck, taking in the smell of horse and power. This was her monster. Her grade two three year old had a heart of a lion and the talent to keep him out of those courageous battles. He'd won his first race of the season with relative ease and now would face an older horse. Forbidden To Fly in the Forego. It would be a tough task, but Ripley had major confidence. The older horse versus the upstart. She knew Stride of Perfection Stables would be looking forward to the race just as much as herself. She smiled when Mastermind lowered his head, eyes softening as they usually did. He was such a typical stallion. Tough on the outside, a marsh mellow on the inside. My beautiful man. No one understands me like you do.
Laura rolled her eyes down the stall row. Van Guard nickered to her, eyes gentle and quiet as she brushed him. The Native Flame son was nothing like Jabberwock or Indian Darling or even the young Sun King. He was large, but not a bully. He accepted authority without butting it against it. He had tinges of wildness in him, but it took a while for it to come out. Even then it was never expressed in full-force like Indian Darlings. Laura was lucky to be on two sons of Battle Brooks star stallion. She hoped to make them as grand as the former racehorse. Perhaps even better. She had a long way to go. Many considered Indian Darling and Van Guard the b-stringers of Witch Creek. Laura didn't. She just called them what they were: horses needing time to mature. She kissed Van's nose when he turned to look at her with his sappy brown eyes. Yes my Van monster. It's your time to run soon. Van snorted, tossed his head at the kiss, but didn't budge an inch. I swear you are more gelding than stallion.
Ain't that the truth? Ripley said as she walked by, guiding Mastermind. The haughty chestnut eyed Van Guard with cocky eyes. Laura felt a shiver run through her. Mastermind was something else. A horse of a different color and he knew it. She saw beyond the blinkers and saw the eagle eye that Ripley had mentioned before. Mastermind had the gaze in spades. Are you going to breed him Ripley? Ripley sighed, leaned against the stall door briefly. Sometime. I don't know if I'll have room for his foals. I hope to Laura. I have my eye on this Arabian x Thoroughbred mare. Endurance and fiery. If I can pry her from her owners, maybe the foal will add some fire. But that's in the future and only if I can get the mare. Laura nodded, patted Van's neck. You have so much Native Flame blood already. I can see why you would pause over it. Though with The Devil retiring, you don't have much Thanks for the Memories blood anyway. Ripley grinned. The plan is to get that little Arab mare to bring out the fire in Van. We'll see.
Laura rolled her eyes again and pushed open the stall door. Van bowed his neck as he walked, almost like he was trying to both women that he was more of a stallion than they gave him credit for. They mounted up outside of the barn, eyes glowing with excitement. It was always an exciting workout anytime you were matched up against one of the best three year olds in the country. She had high hopes for Van Guard, but he was currently figuring things out. His workouts and gallops to date had been exciting, thrilling, blood boilingly quick. He had a glorious stride that he took advantage of without mercy. He was a tough son of a gun in the morning, but the afternoon was the hard part. Laura patted his neck as he passed through the gate. We'll get it sometime soon. No doubt about it.
The horses picked up a swift gallop on the dirt track. Mastermind's was collected and smooth. Van Guard's thunderous and extended. Van Guard dwarfed Mastermind, but the other colt was not easily intimidated with his new blinkers. He barely paid any attention to the Native Flame colt. He was lost in his own world. A world that only included Ripley Marsh. Ripley perched kindly above his withers, hands light, reins pretty slack. Mastermind could run in races all by himself. He was that tactical and intelligent. Ripley smiled as she twined her fingers in his brilliant red mane. The colt snorted, ducked lower and accepted that affection. He was getting more loving as they continued their path. Their partnership was growing and extremely hard to beat.
The colts went through the opening half mile without any antagonism or challenges. Mastermind was relatively uninterested in competition and Van Guard was pretty easy going. The strong bay colt was too busy listening to Laura to really pay attention to the Breeders Cup Champ beside him. Laura spoke to Van Guard with a soft, encouraging voice. Van was built like a line backer, but he had a heart of gold. He was soft on her hands, though the reins were tighter than Ripley's. Van needed more support than Mastermind who just floated along. This was fine with Laura. She liked to be supportive and have contact with her mount. Van was a listener either way.
Their strides became longer, became matching. Mastermind began to settle into his long gallop stride, realizing that Van was going to turn into a threat later on. Ripley's blood was up and Mastermind could sense it. The chestnut ducked his hooded head, eyes beginning to blaze with barely contained energy. He was a racehorse through and through. Ripley remained quiet, slowed her breathing, forced herself to relax. The mile and a quarter had gone by quicker than it usually did. Her internal clock was off and so was Laura's. Van and Mastermind did everything with relative ease and they could fool an experienced and trained clocker.
Van Guard was the first to pick up the speed. Laura wanted to get a good jump on Mastermind. The son of Speed Demon could turn on like a flip of a switch and Van needed to be cued before that in order to meet the rush of challenge. Van's ears flipped back into his mane as his legs quickened beneath his lumbering body. Laura was lost in the rush of energy as it blew from him and into her. This was a fantastic, fantastic animal. She was lost in the power he could bring to the table and at the same time felt very safe. Van still listened. He signaled so when she easily flicked the reins to draw him away from Mastermind. He moved right away. He was agile and fleet-footed, a powerhouse and a thundercloud all in one.
Ripley was impressed with the ease at which Van Guard traveled. The Goliath of animals typically didn't possess such quick footedness. Mastermind began to snatch at the bit as Van began to leave them, drawing to a two length advantage. Ripley quieted her ruby colored colt, green eyes sharpening with racing tactics. Mastermind could swing to the outside, but Van would carry him out wide. It was easier to stay on the rail and light up the inside with a move on the turn. She remained quiet as the railing swept to the left. Mastermind settled, but his eyes remained sharp and angry. Ripley could barely contain herself. She wanted to release them both.
Laura could feel the tension rising in the pair behind them. She pumped Van forward at the turn, letting his sweeping strides gain their fullest length. The Native Flame colt leveled out, legs reaching and defying gravity. His large frame covered the ground so quickly, so brilliantly that it stole Laura's breath away. He'd put it together some day and then nothing and no one stop them. Ripley snorted as Van Guard went from a steady cruise to a breakneck pace. He did not drift out as much as she had expected, but there was plenty of room for Mastermind. With a twitch of her fingers and a loud hoot, Ripley released Mastermind. The chestnut lifted his head dramatically when he sensed the release, but his legs blurred as he took the hint. He shot up the rail, tail streaming out behind him and closed the four length distance with rapid-fire strides.
Laura's mouth set into a grim as Mastermind took them on head and head at the top of the stretch. Here she would find Van Guard's courage in the face of battle. Mastermind's hooded head poked in front under Ripley's silent urging. She remained silent, knowing she could turn on another switch without holding back. This was her race to win or lose. Mastermind could carry her to the victory with dominance, but it all depended on how Van Guard reacted. Laura gasped, pushed forward with her limbs and legs and sent Van soaring up the track. The bay surged forward, a fury of muscle and bone, ears pinned, head and neck fully extended. He rushed away ahead to a length, gained the advantage and under constant urging did not relax. Ripley yelled, releasing her anger and sent Mastermind speeding after him. The chestnut and bay thundered up the racetrack, hoof beats echoing through the air as they pounded through the wire. The competition had been tougher than expected. Mastermind cocked back and suddenly tackled Van Guard for the last time, fifty yards from the wire. He charged forward in a leaping, punished Van Guard by beating him a neck on the line.
The horses blew mightily as they galloped into the far turn, ears waving back and forth. They were looking for more. Looking for tougher competition. They would get it soon. Ripley and Laura stroked the damp necks of their beloved mounts, grinned wordlessly at one another. It had been one heck of a ride!
Laura rolled her eyes down the stall row. Van Guard nickered to her, eyes gentle and quiet as she brushed him. The Native Flame son was nothing like Jabberwock or Indian Darling or even the young Sun King. He was large, but not a bully. He accepted authority without butting it against it. He had tinges of wildness in him, but it took a while for it to come out. Even then it was never expressed in full-force like Indian Darlings. Laura was lucky to be on two sons of Battle Brooks star stallion. She hoped to make them as grand as the former racehorse. Perhaps even better. She had a long way to go. Many considered Indian Darling and Van Guard the b-stringers of Witch Creek. Laura didn't. She just called them what they were: horses needing time to mature. She kissed Van's nose when he turned to look at her with his sappy brown eyes. Yes my Van monster. It's your time to run soon. Van snorted, tossed his head at the kiss, but didn't budge an inch. I swear you are more gelding than stallion.
Ain't that the truth? Ripley said as she walked by, guiding Mastermind. The haughty chestnut eyed Van Guard with cocky eyes. Laura felt a shiver run through her. Mastermind was something else. A horse of a different color and he knew it. She saw beyond the blinkers and saw the eagle eye that Ripley had mentioned before. Mastermind had the gaze in spades. Are you going to breed him Ripley? Ripley sighed, leaned against the stall door briefly. Sometime. I don't know if I'll have room for his foals. I hope to Laura. I have my eye on this Arabian x Thoroughbred mare. Endurance and fiery. If I can pry her from her owners, maybe the foal will add some fire. But that's in the future and only if I can get the mare. Laura nodded, patted Van's neck. You have so much Native Flame blood already. I can see why you would pause over it. Though with The Devil retiring, you don't have much Thanks for the Memories blood anyway. Ripley grinned. The plan is to get that little Arab mare to bring out the fire in Van. We'll see.
Laura rolled her eyes again and pushed open the stall door. Van bowed his neck as he walked, almost like he was trying to both women that he was more of a stallion than they gave him credit for. They mounted up outside of the barn, eyes glowing with excitement. It was always an exciting workout anytime you were matched up against one of the best three year olds in the country. She had high hopes for Van Guard, but he was currently figuring things out. His workouts and gallops to date had been exciting, thrilling, blood boilingly quick. He had a glorious stride that he took advantage of without mercy. He was a tough son of a gun in the morning, but the afternoon was the hard part. Laura patted his neck as he passed through the gate. We'll get it sometime soon. No doubt about it.
The horses picked up a swift gallop on the dirt track. Mastermind's was collected and smooth. Van Guard's thunderous and extended. Van Guard dwarfed Mastermind, but the other colt was not easily intimidated with his new blinkers. He barely paid any attention to the Native Flame colt. He was lost in his own world. A world that only included Ripley Marsh. Ripley perched kindly above his withers, hands light, reins pretty slack. Mastermind could run in races all by himself. He was that tactical and intelligent. Ripley smiled as she twined her fingers in his brilliant red mane. The colt snorted, ducked lower and accepted that affection. He was getting more loving as they continued their path. Their partnership was growing and extremely hard to beat.
The colts went through the opening half mile without any antagonism or challenges. Mastermind was relatively uninterested in competition and Van Guard was pretty easy going. The strong bay colt was too busy listening to Laura to really pay attention to the Breeders Cup Champ beside him. Laura spoke to Van Guard with a soft, encouraging voice. Van was built like a line backer, but he had a heart of gold. He was soft on her hands, though the reins were tighter than Ripley's. Van needed more support than Mastermind who just floated along. This was fine with Laura. She liked to be supportive and have contact with her mount. Van was a listener either way.
Their strides became longer, became matching. Mastermind began to settle into his long gallop stride, realizing that Van was going to turn into a threat later on. Ripley's blood was up and Mastermind could sense it. The chestnut ducked his hooded head, eyes beginning to blaze with barely contained energy. He was a racehorse through and through. Ripley remained quiet, slowed her breathing, forced herself to relax. The mile and a quarter had gone by quicker than it usually did. Her internal clock was off and so was Laura's. Van and Mastermind did everything with relative ease and they could fool an experienced and trained clocker.
Van Guard was the first to pick up the speed. Laura wanted to get a good jump on Mastermind. The son of Speed Demon could turn on like a flip of a switch and Van needed to be cued before that in order to meet the rush of challenge. Van's ears flipped back into his mane as his legs quickened beneath his lumbering body. Laura was lost in the rush of energy as it blew from him and into her. This was a fantastic, fantastic animal. She was lost in the power he could bring to the table and at the same time felt very safe. Van still listened. He signaled so when she easily flicked the reins to draw him away from Mastermind. He moved right away. He was agile and fleet-footed, a powerhouse and a thundercloud all in one.
Ripley was impressed with the ease at which Van Guard traveled. The Goliath of animals typically didn't possess such quick footedness. Mastermind began to snatch at the bit as Van began to leave them, drawing to a two length advantage. Ripley quieted her ruby colored colt, green eyes sharpening with racing tactics. Mastermind could swing to the outside, but Van would carry him out wide. It was easier to stay on the rail and light up the inside with a move on the turn. She remained quiet as the railing swept to the left. Mastermind settled, but his eyes remained sharp and angry. Ripley could barely contain herself. She wanted to release them both.
Laura could feel the tension rising in the pair behind them. She pumped Van forward at the turn, letting his sweeping strides gain their fullest length. The Native Flame colt leveled out, legs reaching and defying gravity. His large frame covered the ground so quickly, so brilliantly that it stole Laura's breath away. He'd put it together some day and then nothing and no one stop them. Ripley snorted as Van Guard went from a steady cruise to a breakneck pace. He did not drift out as much as she had expected, but there was plenty of room for Mastermind. With a twitch of her fingers and a loud hoot, Ripley released Mastermind. The chestnut lifted his head dramatically when he sensed the release, but his legs blurred as he took the hint. He shot up the rail, tail streaming out behind him and closed the four length distance with rapid-fire strides.
Laura's mouth set into a grim as Mastermind took them on head and head at the top of the stretch. Here she would find Van Guard's courage in the face of battle. Mastermind's hooded head poked in front under Ripley's silent urging. She remained silent, knowing she could turn on another switch without holding back. This was her race to win or lose. Mastermind could carry her to the victory with dominance, but it all depended on how Van Guard reacted. Laura gasped, pushed forward with her limbs and legs and sent Van soaring up the track. The bay surged forward, a fury of muscle and bone, ears pinned, head and neck fully extended. He rushed away ahead to a length, gained the advantage and under constant urging did not relax. Ripley yelled, releasing her anger and sent Mastermind speeding after him. The chestnut and bay thundered up the racetrack, hoof beats echoing through the air as they pounded through the wire. The competition had been tougher than expected. Mastermind cocked back and suddenly tackled Van Guard for the last time, fifty yards from the wire. He charged forward in a leaping, punished Van Guard by beating him a neck on the line.
The horses blew mightily as they galloped into the far turn, ears waving back and forth. They were looking for more. Looking for tougher competition. They would get it soon. Ripley and Laura stroked the damp necks of their beloved mounts, grinned wordlessly at one another. It had been one heck of a ride!