july week four workouts: Scroll for individuals
Frozen Motion& Dazzling Dame. The Devil's Touch& Bella Luna. Fiery Touch& Wish Upon A Star
dazzling motion
Courtesy of Event of The Year Photos.
A Triple Crown was on the line and Witch Creek was going to provide one of the contenders that would probably bring the race to its knees. Brookson Wells and Justin Santiago groomed their pair of horses, eyes bright with excitement. They had been discussing race tactics for the last hour. And much to Brooks' surprise, Justin knew a ton about racing tactics. He almost wished that Justin would be riding in the race alongside him aboard Dazzling Dame. However, the buff filly had a different agenda though she would most likely become Freeze's biggest problem in Year Thirteen in the classic races.
Frozen Motion had grown up in the month off from racing and his lack of running sure would not effect his performance in the Breeder's Stakes whatsoever. His coat was a blue-gray, gorgeously dappled out and beneath was a layer of muscle Brookson had not believed Frozen Motion would ever achieve. On the farm, the colt had grown from a boy into a man. His powerful last two victories still resonated with his turf audience. His arch-rival Infinite Warcry had finished second to tougher older horses in his first start out of his division this season. Frozen Motion had defeated older horses, albeit weaker horses, but he was still on a rampage. The horse tossed his head viciously against the cross-ties, dark eyes blazing. He was ready to rumble.
Justin stroked Dazzling Dame's neck. The bay filly had taken June Horse of the Month at The Wire under his tutelage. She looked fantastic and had finished second in the Hibiscus Cup at Green Horse Field behind rising two year old filly Bellefire from Intrepid Racing. Her next start would come in the Beauty Cup and so far she would face Red Admiral, a colt from Bowen Acres Stable. She had finished first or second in her last six consecutive races. Her losses were gritty and her wins were explosive and dominating. Justin prayed that she would be able to handle the tough competition in the turf division when she finally leveled up to grade three. By then he would be on her back and would be racing the filly he cared so much for. She tilted her head and let him reach into her ears. Brooks stared when Justin casually scratched inside the filly's ears. She relished it, bobbing her head up and down. She was a ball of fire, but a kitten now whenever Justin worked with her.
Let's go Casanova. We have a pair of horses to run. Justin shook his head, meeting his beloved filly's eyes. She glared back at him for a moment, fire lighting up her gaze. Dame was no slouch. She stood as tall as her stocky form would allow and glared at Frozen Motion. The dappled gray defiantly stared back, body tense. He was ready to bury her.
...
Brooks knew two things. One, the finale to the Canadian Triple Crown looked to be the toughest race the entire season. Infinite Warcry, winner of the Preakness Champion Stakes, Instant Success, winner of the first two legs of the Canadian Triple Crown and the Preakness Stakes, and Frozen Motion, winner of two legs of the Turf Triple Crown were all evenly matched. All of the colts were tough. Frozen Motion and Infinite Warcry had beaten each other once each. Instant Success had never faced Frozen Motion. Frozen Motion had defeated the final horse in the field, Apollo Bear from Akita Rose Stables, in the Belmont Turf Classic. And Two, Apollo Bear would be the dark horse for Frozen Motion this time around.
Freeze strode out strongly beneath him, pulling on the bit, eager to get it on. Dazzling Dame was already cantering ahead. The twin of Infinite Warcry felt beautiful beneath him this morning. She always did. There was never a smoother horse than this one. Justin patted her sleek neck and grinned when she bowed it, snorting much like her work-mate. Brooks let Freeze out into a jog, pleased with how the three year old was coming back off of his vacation. He had been working like a son of a gun over his vacation. He galloped two miles everyday, never truly enjoying a pasture-horse's life. He hadn't wanted that. He was in better shape than anyone else on the team, with the possible exception of Dame and Ashes. He was ready for the toughest race of his career.
Everyone knew that Apollo Bear was going to the front. The horse just had that kind of style. He liked to be out there winging it. Brookson wasn't sure that winging it on the front end for twelve furlongs would be the smartest thing to do, but to take a horse out of his running style would do more harm than good. Frozen Motion had mastered his run to every little detail. He would sit boldly two-three lengths off of the lead in the Breeder's Stakes. He had handled Infinite Warcry's explosive run in the Kentucky Open and because Instant Success raced much more like a grinder than an explosive, Freeze could probably handle his run as well. The dappled gray would sit coyly in Brook's hands until the turn. He had more experience over The Wire turf track than any of his competition. They were coming to his home turf and he was going to represent the mainstayers at The Wire in the Breeder's Stakes.
Brooks asked his colt to step out into a canter. Freeze lurched forward, legs moving like a iron machine until he was caught up with the playful Dazzling Dame. Justin looked over at Brooks, hands light on the reins. Dame flattened her ears at Frozen Motion, but the gray shrugged it off with a quick eye roll, ever the big brother. Ripley wants a mile and a half gallop with a six furlong workout. Justin's eyes bugged out of his head. She was serious? Brooks grinned because the boy's expression was very similar to what his had been when Ripley had so the very same thing to him earlier. She's serious. So you better buckle your seat belt on that mazerati of yours. Justin laughed. More like a viper. She flies.
Brooks shook his head and patted his good ol' Witch Creek horse and smiled. Well either way, my version moves faster than yours. With that, he shook the reins at Frozen Motion and the dappled gray leaped up the hillside of the turf track, body splaying out over the ground. His muscles bunched and tightened, hooves gripping the turf and then pushing off. He was a whole world away from what he had been as a two year old colt. And so was Dazzling Dame. Brooks glanced over and shook his head. The filly was a fast one and would represent the older filly and mare turf division well for Witch Creek next year when Screaming Mimi retired. She ran in the same style as Frozen Motion, a high cruising catapulting filly with the biggest engine you could imagine. She was as hard to beat as her brother, Infinite Warcry, but it could be done.
The horses galloped in hand for most of the track, bodies moving in tandem. They had each other measured up real nice and tight. Frozen Motion didn't move a step faster than what he was going and he was content with the relaxed pace. Brookson could see that Dame was not as content to maintain such a pace. She would pull on the reins, Justin would give and then she would move ahead, ears flattening when Freeze didn't move with her. Frozen Motion was the king of cat and mouse games. He wouldn't be fooled. Naturally, Dame put on the pout and settled down for the long haul... Well until she got bored again and then she would repeat the same process.
The hills passed beneath the thundering hooves and sweat glimmered over sturdy muscles and gleaming hide. The horses enjoyed the trying workout more than most other horses from different stables did. This was natural. They were happy to keep going and not stop trying. There was no fear or pain or tiredness in their gazes. Their natural talent carried them over the course. Frozen Motion was not the typical Witch Creek horse. The dappled gray was not going to blister you all out with his speed. He was a workmanlike horse who sometimes dabbled too much in showing off at the end of the race. His record was impressive, but his times and final speed figures were not. He was considered a threat, but not the favorite.
Justin could feel the power in Dazzling Dame as she began to realize what he wanted. She was like a fuse that was nearing the explosive after being lit. She was the typical Witch Creek horse. Powerful, gorgeous and brilliant. She fit in nicely like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing and was finally returned. Justin moved his hands in her dark mane, smiling when she flicked her ears. The bond between them was immense. When he finally could take the reins in October, the racing world would truly see just what Dame could do.
The gallop flew by and the horses were excited now. The mile and a half had revved their engines up. Freeze shook his thick neck, tossing lather over onto his work-mate. Dame squealed and let out a buck. They were brought to a stand still and then the riders let them out. The rider's breath backed up into their lungs as the gray and dark bay pushed off the turf with a powerful punch. There was no denying their turn of foot. Ripley watched from the side hill atop The Devil's Touch. Her bay mare's ears pricked excitedly as the other horses took off. She missed the training. Ripley patted her neck, her sharp green eyes never leaving the bold horses.
Brooks could feel Justin's focus on Frozen Motion as though he were being inspected through a magnifying glass. The boy had an uncanny ability to judge discomfort and create discomfort if none existed. There had been none, but now there was. Luckily, Freeze did not pick up on it. Once he was racing as though he were in a race, the only movements and emotions he picked up from Brooks were ones of directional changes and encouragement. He was in a straight shot now, merely on auto-pilot. He bobbed leads with Dazzling Dame over the turf course. The little filly that could gave it to him with increasing speeds as time passed. Freeze and Dame poured over the track, blood and adrenaline surging through their fantastic frames.
Their hoof-beats sounded like the warning of drums in a horror army movie. The drums rolled like an ominous threat. Ripley focused her video camera on the two, eyes sparkling. Boy they were fierce and she would post the workout to show the world just what her horses could do.
Frozen Motion put on a burst of speed, gray tail flying out behind him, legs a blur carrying his built frame. Dame returned with a strong echo, pushing mightily off of her powerful engine. She was a head back at first, but as was always the case Freeze put on more speed, just having a little something extra. Soon she was a neck back, her ears flat to her head, her legs stretching to their utmost. Brooks shook his hands a little, attempting to fling Justin off of his case. But Justin pushed heartily with his own arms and Dame roared forward, a lion inside a kitten's body. Her teeth were bared around the bit and she would have growled if she could. Freeze took the blow and barreled forward, breaking records as they pushed into the final furlong of the workout.
Ripley stared at the camera and her stop watch as the pair bolted through the final furlong, not pulling up easy, locked in a battle of wit and power. Brooks and Justin grinned at one another, eyes bright. Oh this was it... The race of the year for three year old colt of the year was gaining closer. Frozen Motion had laid down his claim and he was going to further his case in the Breeder's Stakes over his home court. Justin felt chills zing down his back as his stocky filly gloated mightily beneath him. She bowed her neck, ears flicking, eyes zeroed in on Frozen Motion. She was looking for more fight. A heart of a champion glowed brightly inside her broad chest.
Frozen Motion had grown up in the month off from racing and his lack of running sure would not effect his performance in the Breeder's Stakes whatsoever. His coat was a blue-gray, gorgeously dappled out and beneath was a layer of muscle Brookson had not believed Frozen Motion would ever achieve. On the farm, the colt had grown from a boy into a man. His powerful last two victories still resonated with his turf audience. His arch-rival Infinite Warcry had finished second to tougher older horses in his first start out of his division this season. Frozen Motion had defeated older horses, albeit weaker horses, but he was still on a rampage. The horse tossed his head viciously against the cross-ties, dark eyes blazing. He was ready to rumble.
Justin stroked Dazzling Dame's neck. The bay filly had taken June Horse of the Month at The Wire under his tutelage. She looked fantastic and had finished second in the Hibiscus Cup at Green Horse Field behind rising two year old filly Bellefire from Intrepid Racing. Her next start would come in the Beauty Cup and so far she would face Red Admiral, a colt from Bowen Acres Stable. She had finished first or second in her last six consecutive races. Her losses were gritty and her wins were explosive and dominating. Justin prayed that she would be able to handle the tough competition in the turf division when she finally leveled up to grade three. By then he would be on her back and would be racing the filly he cared so much for. She tilted her head and let him reach into her ears. Brooks stared when Justin casually scratched inside the filly's ears. She relished it, bobbing her head up and down. She was a ball of fire, but a kitten now whenever Justin worked with her.
Let's go Casanova. We have a pair of horses to run. Justin shook his head, meeting his beloved filly's eyes. She glared back at him for a moment, fire lighting up her gaze. Dame was no slouch. She stood as tall as her stocky form would allow and glared at Frozen Motion. The dappled gray defiantly stared back, body tense. He was ready to bury her.
...
Brooks knew two things. One, the finale to the Canadian Triple Crown looked to be the toughest race the entire season. Infinite Warcry, winner of the Preakness Champion Stakes, Instant Success, winner of the first two legs of the Canadian Triple Crown and the Preakness Stakes, and Frozen Motion, winner of two legs of the Turf Triple Crown were all evenly matched. All of the colts were tough. Frozen Motion and Infinite Warcry had beaten each other once each. Instant Success had never faced Frozen Motion. Frozen Motion had defeated the final horse in the field, Apollo Bear from Akita Rose Stables, in the Belmont Turf Classic. And Two, Apollo Bear would be the dark horse for Frozen Motion this time around.
Freeze strode out strongly beneath him, pulling on the bit, eager to get it on. Dazzling Dame was already cantering ahead. The twin of Infinite Warcry felt beautiful beneath him this morning. She always did. There was never a smoother horse than this one. Justin patted her sleek neck and grinned when she bowed it, snorting much like her work-mate. Brooks let Freeze out into a jog, pleased with how the three year old was coming back off of his vacation. He had been working like a son of a gun over his vacation. He galloped two miles everyday, never truly enjoying a pasture-horse's life. He hadn't wanted that. He was in better shape than anyone else on the team, with the possible exception of Dame and Ashes. He was ready for the toughest race of his career.
Everyone knew that Apollo Bear was going to the front. The horse just had that kind of style. He liked to be out there winging it. Brookson wasn't sure that winging it on the front end for twelve furlongs would be the smartest thing to do, but to take a horse out of his running style would do more harm than good. Frozen Motion had mastered his run to every little detail. He would sit boldly two-three lengths off of the lead in the Breeder's Stakes. He had handled Infinite Warcry's explosive run in the Kentucky Open and because Instant Success raced much more like a grinder than an explosive, Freeze could probably handle his run as well. The dappled gray would sit coyly in Brook's hands until the turn. He had more experience over The Wire turf track than any of his competition. They were coming to his home turf and he was going to represent the mainstayers at The Wire in the Breeder's Stakes.
Brooks asked his colt to step out into a canter. Freeze lurched forward, legs moving like a iron machine until he was caught up with the playful Dazzling Dame. Justin looked over at Brooks, hands light on the reins. Dame flattened her ears at Frozen Motion, but the gray shrugged it off with a quick eye roll, ever the big brother. Ripley wants a mile and a half gallop with a six furlong workout. Justin's eyes bugged out of his head. She was serious? Brooks grinned because the boy's expression was very similar to what his had been when Ripley had so the very same thing to him earlier. She's serious. So you better buckle your seat belt on that mazerati of yours. Justin laughed. More like a viper. She flies.
Brooks shook his head and patted his good ol' Witch Creek horse and smiled. Well either way, my version moves faster than yours. With that, he shook the reins at Frozen Motion and the dappled gray leaped up the hillside of the turf track, body splaying out over the ground. His muscles bunched and tightened, hooves gripping the turf and then pushing off. He was a whole world away from what he had been as a two year old colt. And so was Dazzling Dame. Brooks glanced over and shook his head. The filly was a fast one and would represent the older filly and mare turf division well for Witch Creek next year when Screaming Mimi retired. She ran in the same style as Frozen Motion, a high cruising catapulting filly with the biggest engine you could imagine. She was as hard to beat as her brother, Infinite Warcry, but it could be done.
The horses galloped in hand for most of the track, bodies moving in tandem. They had each other measured up real nice and tight. Frozen Motion didn't move a step faster than what he was going and he was content with the relaxed pace. Brookson could see that Dame was not as content to maintain such a pace. She would pull on the reins, Justin would give and then she would move ahead, ears flattening when Freeze didn't move with her. Frozen Motion was the king of cat and mouse games. He wouldn't be fooled. Naturally, Dame put on the pout and settled down for the long haul... Well until she got bored again and then she would repeat the same process.
The hills passed beneath the thundering hooves and sweat glimmered over sturdy muscles and gleaming hide. The horses enjoyed the trying workout more than most other horses from different stables did. This was natural. They were happy to keep going and not stop trying. There was no fear or pain or tiredness in their gazes. Their natural talent carried them over the course. Frozen Motion was not the typical Witch Creek horse. The dappled gray was not going to blister you all out with his speed. He was a workmanlike horse who sometimes dabbled too much in showing off at the end of the race. His record was impressive, but his times and final speed figures were not. He was considered a threat, but not the favorite.
Justin could feel the power in Dazzling Dame as she began to realize what he wanted. She was like a fuse that was nearing the explosive after being lit. She was the typical Witch Creek horse. Powerful, gorgeous and brilliant. She fit in nicely like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing and was finally returned. Justin moved his hands in her dark mane, smiling when she flicked her ears. The bond between them was immense. When he finally could take the reins in October, the racing world would truly see just what Dame could do.
The gallop flew by and the horses were excited now. The mile and a half had revved their engines up. Freeze shook his thick neck, tossing lather over onto his work-mate. Dame squealed and let out a buck. They were brought to a stand still and then the riders let them out. The rider's breath backed up into their lungs as the gray and dark bay pushed off the turf with a powerful punch. There was no denying their turn of foot. Ripley watched from the side hill atop The Devil's Touch. Her bay mare's ears pricked excitedly as the other horses took off. She missed the training. Ripley patted her neck, her sharp green eyes never leaving the bold horses.
Brooks could feel Justin's focus on Frozen Motion as though he were being inspected through a magnifying glass. The boy had an uncanny ability to judge discomfort and create discomfort if none existed. There had been none, but now there was. Luckily, Freeze did not pick up on it. Once he was racing as though he were in a race, the only movements and emotions he picked up from Brooks were ones of directional changes and encouragement. He was in a straight shot now, merely on auto-pilot. He bobbed leads with Dazzling Dame over the turf course. The little filly that could gave it to him with increasing speeds as time passed. Freeze and Dame poured over the track, blood and adrenaline surging through their fantastic frames.
Their hoof-beats sounded like the warning of drums in a horror army movie. The drums rolled like an ominous threat. Ripley focused her video camera on the two, eyes sparkling. Boy they were fierce and she would post the workout to show the world just what her horses could do.
Frozen Motion put on a burst of speed, gray tail flying out behind him, legs a blur carrying his built frame. Dame returned with a strong echo, pushing mightily off of her powerful engine. She was a head back at first, but as was always the case Freeze put on more speed, just having a little something extra. Soon she was a neck back, her ears flat to her head, her legs stretching to their utmost. Brooks shook his hands a little, attempting to fling Justin off of his case. But Justin pushed heartily with his own arms and Dame roared forward, a lion inside a kitten's body. Her teeth were bared around the bit and she would have growled if she could. Freeze took the blow and barreled forward, breaking records as they pushed into the final furlong of the workout.
Ripley stared at the camera and her stop watch as the pair bolted through the final furlong, not pulling up easy, locked in a battle of wit and power. Brooks and Justin grinned at one another, eyes bright. Oh this was it... The race of the year for three year old colt of the year was gaining closer. Frozen Motion had laid down his claim and he was going to further his case in the Breeder's Stakes over his home court. Justin felt chills zing down his back as his stocky filly gloated mightily beneath him. She bowed her neck, ears flicking, eyes zeroed in on Frozen Motion. She was looking for more fight. A heart of a champion glowed brightly inside her broad chest.
devil's moon
Courtesy of Allison L. Janezic.
The head trainer looked up at the sound of hoof-beats. The Devil flicked her ears and turned in the direction of the sound. Three horses walked toward Ripley, Fiery Touch was riderless. Maggiletti Reynolds sat proudly about Wish Upon A Star. Ripley narrowed her eyes on the woman sitting on Bella Luna. The white-gray filly was full of herself. Maggie gestured for the woman to go nearer. Fie strained at the reins and would not go near The Devil. She wasn't a fan of the burly mare. Ripley recognized the woman with caramel-mocha colored skin as a former reporter for the Eighth Pole and as an international rider from South America. Well I see Maggie Reynolds has taken it upon herself to find me another international jock to feed.
The green-eyed woman watched colour bloom beneath the beautiful woman's cheeks. She turned and glared at Maggie and called with a raspy-sassy voice. You said she wouldn't know who I am! Maggie shrugged. I forgot to count on Ripley's all-seeing eyes. Ripley grinned at that. Yes my all seeing eyes would happen to recognize Reese Balling Jones' riding style a mile away.
Brooks and Justin cantered up to the group. Brooks eyes Reese curiously and Justin stared in puberty-boy adoration. Reese blushed and Ripley found herself liking the woman even more. Ah, so this is the girl that was going to take over Lulu from me? You didn't tell me it was Reese! Brooks shouted. Ripley ground her teeth and glared over at Maggie. Apparently, she was the last one to know. Maggie lifted her hands in a thumbs up and grinned cheesily. Apparently.
Ripley narrowed her eyes. Well let's see what you've got. Ripley spun The Devil around, eyes wild with competition. Her burly bay filly had mostly run on the dirt back in her hey day, but she could run just as well if not better on the turf. The Devil's ears flattened into her thick black mane and she lifted into a half-rear over the muddy-green earth that was typical of fall. Ripley felt a wicked smile cross her face briefly before it winked away. Bella Luna flew on misty legs right on by The Devil. Reese Jones perched like a bird over her withers. Ripley let out a growl, flung her hands forward and The Devil took up her true racing position two lengths off of Bella Luna.
The bay Touch Up mare rolled right into her threatening, explosive stride, eyes wide with excitement and challenge. She had grown tired of simply being ridden around bareback and as a training pony at the race tracks. She wanted to feel the wind in her mane and she wanted it now. Her limbs coiled and attacked the earth, anger bursting through her veins in sharp bursts. Ripley was filled with euphoria atop this magnificent mare who had never completely managed to leave the race track.
Reese looked under her armpit. Gosh the head lady was scary. She just looked right on around the big mare's neck as if she were gunning for Reese. The caramel-colored woman shook her head. Maggie hadn't been kidding when she'd said Reese hadn't faced the best jocks in the world until she came to the U.S. Reese had wanted a challenge and she'd found it in Maggie and then Maggie had left to the U.S. So she needed this challenge as well. At 23 years of age, Reese was on the edge of making a global reputation for herself. The woman nearly cackled with joy. Her gray-white filly tensed beneath her, feeling the energy crackle and pop above her.
Reese liked Bella Luna. The filly was quick as a jackrabbit and very smart. She was relaxed and professional. She had a snap, crackle and pop while being as calm as a cucumber. Reese liked her just because of her grand beauty and calm mind. She was sane and Reese barely would call her ownself sane at the moment. Her black hair whipped her face as she once again glanced beneath her armpit. The Devil's Touch, a filly who had been awesome in her juvenile year of racing had not forgotten her true self. The woman felt a blooming admiration for the mare who, according to Maggie, was such a fighter that she would not make a WC Broodmare after Year Thirteen. She was coiling in the corner like a rattlesnake about to strike. Reese admired these horses, but hated them when they were gunning for her.
Reese ducked her head and pushed forward with her body on Lulu. She called to her and whistled and laughed when the filly merely twitched her ears as if shrugging her shoulders. Oh this one needed more than love-taps apparently. The woman leaned closer, dark lips forming excited, sassy words just at Lulu's pink rimmed ear. Reese tightened up the reins and then gave such a mighty push that she would have looked ridiculous if Bella Luna hadn't responded. The shimmering filly took off like a bomb being catapulted from a canon. She was a ghost in this eight o'clock morning light and quiet as one as well. Her dainty form was like a phantom floating in the eerie fog. Reese was stunned by the simplicity that surrounded this filly, so much that she mentally tuned out for a moment and only came to when Ripley Marsh stormed by on The Devil's Touch.
The dark bay mare looked as if she had just come from the depths of hell compared to Reese's angel. Reese stared at the power and fire that emanated from Marsh's mare. It was like a wave of heat. Bella Luna, however, a true cold drink of water, met the wave of heat with a slice of icy cold. She erupted from her spot almost as if she had been put on pause and then placed on fast forward. Reese barely managed to snag the filly's glistening white mane before she was flung in back of the small racing saddle. Bella Luna's limbs stretched brilliantly out over the still-green turf near the pond. Mud flew up, dribbling brown spots over her otherwise perfect body. She was a quick little snow bunny.
Ripley glanced over her left arm to find Lulu running strongly at The Devil's barrel. She looked like an ice princess beneath her fawning caretaker. Ripley hid her pleased grin just before Reese glanced over. The brown-eyed woman's eyes were bright with pop and awe. She had the look of a woman just coming into her own. The auburn haired head trainer returned back to the front, guiding The Devil across the bridge over Witch Creek's infamous, well, creek. Bella Luna tagged along, stuttering briefly over the bridge, but a quick shrug from Reese had the filly bolting like a greyhound after a chase toy.
Reese grinned at the level of response she was receiving from Bella Luna. The filly was so darn tactical and she did have a pretty good record for a two year old. It amazed her that Lulu didn't have as many wins when her overall body of work was so impressive. She merely flicked her fingers on the reins and Lulu was caught up with The Devil. Ripley shook her head when The Devil stretched out like a tom-cat awakening from his ever important midday nap. She flattened her ears and burst forward a blistering speed, but she did not completely throw Lulu. The ghostly filly read the situation well and followed right along with The Devil's plan.
A smile ghosted across Ripley's clever bow and arrow mouth. The barn was in sight and The Devil was not even trying at this point in time. It had been a mile gallop and a three furlong run from the turf track to this point. Ripley decided to let her have her head. Reese was privy to such games and instantly let Bella Luna out before The Devil even managed sassily swing into stride.
Lulu sprinted home, hooves ringing when she crossed a stone path. Her eyes were bright and eager. She loved Brookson and he would always be her favorite jock, but she felt lifted by this one. This unknowable figure who hadn't even bothered to feed her a carrot or fawn over her appearance. Lulu wanted to try hard for this one, more so than she had for Brooks. Ripley took note of the filly's new attitude and then let The Devil ghost up alongside of her. The riders hand-rode the filly and mare up to the barn. Ripley swung The Devil around craftily to face Reese. The woman's rapid breathing silenced immediately. The head trainer's green eyes circuited her form and her mount. Reese felt as if her heart was going to leap out of her chest in these silent moments.
You will do. Ripley's voice rippled quietly through the foggy morning. Reese shivered and stared as Ripley trotted The Devil back to the track. She stopped and didn't even bother to look over her shoulder when she said, Bella Luna needs to be bathed, cooled out and her stall needs to be mucked. Reese narrowed her eyes when the head trainer simply dropped her reins and The Devil exploded beneath her from a stand still. The demon and her mate from hell sprinted all out down the dirt track running alongside the road and across the bridge. Reese stared until they disappeared behind the hills, their hoof-beats swallowed by the mist.
The green-eyed woman watched colour bloom beneath the beautiful woman's cheeks. She turned and glared at Maggie and called with a raspy-sassy voice. You said she wouldn't know who I am! Maggie shrugged. I forgot to count on Ripley's all-seeing eyes. Ripley grinned at that. Yes my all seeing eyes would happen to recognize Reese Balling Jones' riding style a mile away.
Brooks and Justin cantered up to the group. Brooks eyes Reese curiously and Justin stared in puberty-boy adoration. Reese blushed and Ripley found herself liking the woman even more. Ah, so this is the girl that was going to take over Lulu from me? You didn't tell me it was Reese! Brooks shouted. Ripley ground her teeth and glared over at Maggie. Apparently, she was the last one to know. Maggie lifted her hands in a thumbs up and grinned cheesily. Apparently.
Ripley narrowed her eyes. Well let's see what you've got. Ripley spun The Devil around, eyes wild with competition. Her burly bay filly had mostly run on the dirt back in her hey day, but she could run just as well if not better on the turf. The Devil's ears flattened into her thick black mane and she lifted into a half-rear over the muddy-green earth that was typical of fall. Ripley felt a wicked smile cross her face briefly before it winked away. Bella Luna flew on misty legs right on by The Devil. Reese Jones perched like a bird over her withers. Ripley let out a growl, flung her hands forward and The Devil took up her true racing position two lengths off of Bella Luna.
The bay Touch Up mare rolled right into her threatening, explosive stride, eyes wide with excitement and challenge. She had grown tired of simply being ridden around bareback and as a training pony at the race tracks. She wanted to feel the wind in her mane and she wanted it now. Her limbs coiled and attacked the earth, anger bursting through her veins in sharp bursts. Ripley was filled with euphoria atop this magnificent mare who had never completely managed to leave the race track.
Reese looked under her armpit. Gosh the head lady was scary. She just looked right on around the big mare's neck as if she were gunning for Reese. The caramel-colored woman shook her head. Maggie hadn't been kidding when she'd said Reese hadn't faced the best jocks in the world until she came to the U.S. Reese had wanted a challenge and she'd found it in Maggie and then Maggie had left to the U.S. So she needed this challenge as well. At 23 years of age, Reese was on the edge of making a global reputation for herself. The woman nearly cackled with joy. Her gray-white filly tensed beneath her, feeling the energy crackle and pop above her.
Reese liked Bella Luna. The filly was quick as a jackrabbit and very smart. She was relaxed and professional. She had a snap, crackle and pop while being as calm as a cucumber. Reese liked her just because of her grand beauty and calm mind. She was sane and Reese barely would call her ownself sane at the moment. Her black hair whipped her face as she once again glanced beneath her armpit. The Devil's Touch, a filly who had been awesome in her juvenile year of racing had not forgotten her true self. The woman felt a blooming admiration for the mare who, according to Maggie, was such a fighter that she would not make a WC Broodmare after Year Thirteen. She was coiling in the corner like a rattlesnake about to strike. Reese admired these horses, but hated them when they were gunning for her.
Reese ducked her head and pushed forward with her body on Lulu. She called to her and whistled and laughed when the filly merely twitched her ears as if shrugging her shoulders. Oh this one needed more than love-taps apparently. The woman leaned closer, dark lips forming excited, sassy words just at Lulu's pink rimmed ear. Reese tightened up the reins and then gave such a mighty push that she would have looked ridiculous if Bella Luna hadn't responded. The shimmering filly took off like a bomb being catapulted from a canon. She was a ghost in this eight o'clock morning light and quiet as one as well. Her dainty form was like a phantom floating in the eerie fog. Reese was stunned by the simplicity that surrounded this filly, so much that she mentally tuned out for a moment and only came to when Ripley Marsh stormed by on The Devil's Touch.
The dark bay mare looked as if she had just come from the depths of hell compared to Reese's angel. Reese stared at the power and fire that emanated from Marsh's mare. It was like a wave of heat. Bella Luna, however, a true cold drink of water, met the wave of heat with a slice of icy cold. She erupted from her spot almost as if she had been put on pause and then placed on fast forward. Reese barely managed to snag the filly's glistening white mane before she was flung in back of the small racing saddle. Bella Luna's limbs stretched brilliantly out over the still-green turf near the pond. Mud flew up, dribbling brown spots over her otherwise perfect body. She was a quick little snow bunny.
Ripley glanced over her left arm to find Lulu running strongly at The Devil's barrel. She looked like an ice princess beneath her fawning caretaker. Ripley hid her pleased grin just before Reese glanced over. The brown-eyed woman's eyes were bright with pop and awe. She had the look of a woman just coming into her own. The auburn haired head trainer returned back to the front, guiding The Devil across the bridge over Witch Creek's infamous, well, creek. Bella Luna tagged along, stuttering briefly over the bridge, but a quick shrug from Reese had the filly bolting like a greyhound after a chase toy.
Reese grinned at the level of response she was receiving from Bella Luna. The filly was so darn tactical and she did have a pretty good record for a two year old. It amazed her that Lulu didn't have as many wins when her overall body of work was so impressive. She merely flicked her fingers on the reins and Lulu was caught up with The Devil. Ripley shook her head when The Devil stretched out like a tom-cat awakening from his ever important midday nap. She flattened her ears and burst forward a blistering speed, but she did not completely throw Lulu. The ghostly filly read the situation well and followed right along with The Devil's plan.
A smile ghosted across Ripley's clever bow and arrow mouth. The barn was in sight and The Devil was not even trying at this point in time. It had been a mile gallop and a three furlong run from the turf track to this point. Ripley decided to let her have her head. Reese was privy to such games and instantly let Bella Luna out before The Devil even managed sassily swing into stride.
Lulu sprinted home, hooves ringing when she crossed a stone path. Her eyes were bright and eager. She loved Brookson and he would always be her favorite jock, but she felt lifted by this one. This unknowable figure who hadn't even bothered to feed her a carrot or fawn over her appearance. Lulu wanted to try hard for this one, more so than she had for Brooks. Ripley took note of the filly's new attitude and then let The Devil ghost up alongside of her. The riders hand-rode the filly and mare up to the barn. Ripley swung The Devil around craftily to face Reese. The woman's rapid breathing silenced immediately. The head trainer's green eyes circuited her form and her mount. Reese felt as if her heart was going to leap out of her chest in these silent moments.
You will do. Ripley's voice rippled quietly through the foggy morning. Reese shivered and stared as Ripley trotted The Devil back to the track. She stopped and didn't even bother to look over her shoulder when she said, Bella Luna needs to be bathed, cooled out and her stall needs to be mucked. Reese narrowed her eyes when the head trainer simply dropped her reins and The Devil exploded beneath her from a stand still. The demon and her mate from hell sprinted all out down the dirt track running alongside the road and across the bridge. Reese stared until they disappeared behind the hills, their hoof-beats swallowed by the mist.
fiery wish
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
Ripley slapped the reins of The Devil into Brooksons' hands back the dirt track. The blonde man stared at his girlfriend in open excitement. The Devil's Touch would have steamrolled Lulu had she truly been in shape and trying. He was proud of his gray-white filly for holding up her side of the devil's bargain. He beamed at Ripley and then scowled at Maggie who was holding a struggling Fiery Touch, a grim curve to her mouth. Wish Upon A Star pranced beneath Maggie, her spectacular form showing off its muscles in the glimmering sunlight.
The head trainer nodded to Brooks. Make sure all four of them get cooled out please. Justin smirked at his boss' tone, but did nothing more than send Dazzling Dame for home. The boy was smart most of the time. Brooks barely held his attitude in and forced himself to acknowledge Ripley's authoritative comment with a sharp nod of his head. Ripley sighed. Brooks, Freeze looked brilliant out there. He'll hold up beautifully for you. Twelve furlongs is his distance. The blonde man felt some of the sting lift away and he smiled. He'll do better than hold up, trust me. The blonde egged both the current champion of the barn and the past champion of the barn into a trot. They moved together in that bold jog, a proud carriage touched them both, marking them for what they truly were: brilliant athletes.
Maggie held her breath and stared at Ripley who was now standing on the ground. She hadn't meant to surprise Ripley. Quite the opposite actually. She'd wanted to make the head honcho happy. Ripley had been taking care of her for the last three months now and Maggie was in her debt. The blonde knew it, but she couldn't stop the partying, the drug taking. It was just her life now. The tired bruises were pronounced beneath her baby blues and they halted Ripley's full force of fury when she looked at her jock and best friend. You know better than that Mags.
The blonde nodded and looked down, running her light fingers through Wish's black mane. The two year old was quiet, sensing things were amiss. Ripley gently tugged Fie's reins from Maggie's other hand. The spunky three year old bounded backward as if she'd been touched with an electrified cattle prod. Ripley crooned to her and talked her down from her spookiness. Fie let out a body shaking sigh and Ripley took pity on the situation. It did no one any good for Ripley's fires and demons to come out and play. The auburn haired woman swung quietly aboard the muscled three year old filly and guided her toward the dirt track. Maggie grimly followed, Wish walked along, head level, taking care of her emotional rider. You would never guess that the filly had taken on top competitors in her last start off of her level temperament. That was one of the many gifts of Wish, Maggie thought. The Everyday Hero filly understood the situation.
She's awesome isn't she though, Rip? Maggie called when her boss picked up a jog on Fie. Ripley didn't answer for a moment. She relaxed kindly into Fie's intense frame, admiring the power that rumbled beneath the dappled out hide. Fiery Touch was coming into her own. Her self-confidence had improved off of her two important last victories and a month back at the farm. Like Freeze, Fie hadn't been much of a sport when it came to vacation. She'd been slightly less demanding, but gallops and trail rides had been a necessity when it came to keeping the Touch Up filly happy and controllable. Yeah, she is quite the rider. She'll do. I'll put her on a trial period like I did for you over the years. Sometimes I wonder if I should have ever taken you off the trial period. Maggie felt the sting of the slap, but ignored it. She knew she'd let Ripley down somewhere along the way recently. Her riding performance hadn't sagged a bit, but their friendship was suffering and showing some holes that needed patching.
Maggie trotted Wish up to match Fie's grand strides. The three year old filly had such a confident aura around her these days. Wish also was experiencing a momentary career high. The filly bowed her elegant neck, twisted her ears back and forth eagerly. She was so pleased with herself after her second win and it showed. She'd been training and galloping like a freight train. Her body was coiled and ready for a dominating run. Ripley sighed and glanced at Maggie. Maggie sent an easy going smile her way and Ripley's anger melted. It matters what I think Maggie. I just wish you hadn't gone behind my back. And especially to Brooks.
Maggie lifted her eyebrows as the fillies kicked it into long, contented lopes. Why is there trouble in paradise? Ripley snorted. On the contrary. Paradise was especially grand at the moment and Ripley didn't want to let it go. No, no trouble. But I'm the boss. Maggie stuck her tongue out. Oh see this a dominance thing... I see. Ripley shook her head and brought Fie close enough to Wish so that she could push Maggie halfway out of the saddle. Not even close.
Maggie rolled her eyes out of mock fear and leaned forward. How far and fast do you want it Marsh? Ripley let out a rolling laugh and grinned. Mile and a quarter gallop. Five furlong workout. Maggie shook her head. The head lady never got tired. Ripley let Fie out a notch and smiled when the scopey bay leaped forward like a tiger. Fiery Touch was ready to move up and on. Her last two victories had pushed her and in the Fleur De Lis Derby she would face a horse she knew very well and whom Ripley knew very well. Midnight Thriller was one tough filly. She was finally understanding what racing was all about. The same as Fie in many cases. Well Fiery Touch was on a roll and she'd be ready to go. Fie would sit just off of Midnight Thriller. For a closer she had a relatively strong cruising speed that could carry her throughout a race.
Wish would have the toughest race of her career in the Bonafica Derby. She would face five other horses, three of whom were older. Only one, Predator from IRS, was a front runner. The rest were mid-pack runners or closers. Maggie was positive that Wish had a shot in this race. She just needed to get a good position in second or third behind Predator. A good striking position would be key coming down the homestretch in the nine furlong race. Wish tossed her head violently as if feeling Maggie's intense thought process. She bolted ahead of Fiery Touch, eyes bright and round. She was ready to roll.
Ripley let Fiery Touch's true power come out in the moment that Wish exploded. The reins slipped through her fingers and Fie instantly spread out, her black legs stretched forward and then she pulled herself up, gathering them in tightly. Fie expanded and contracted with each of her breaths and rated beautifully off the energetic Everyday Hero filly. Her attitude was wonderful in the saddle. Ripley sat as still as stone as the bays wound their way up the backstretch. Everyone was so calm and collected, defying the speed of light in pure poise. This was what made a Witch Creek horse: the burning power that threatened behind these beautiful facades. There was no unattractive horse at Witch Creek. Everyone of them was gorgeous and allowed to be a horse. Everyone of them was happy.
The gallop strengthened with every single stride that passed. Speed improved and lungs expanded and contracted more quickly to match it. Wish was content on the inside. Fie pressed in on her, but the filly fought her off and gained back her space without even blinking. She was as steady as a rocking horse. Maggie twitched her fingers and the filly's ears flicked. She was a kind-hearted soul. She wouldn't move totally until Maggie asked her too. Fie on the hand was pulling to get going. Her muscled frame shouldered forward and she placed her head and neck just ahead of Wish. Her stride was only checked by Ripley's light hands and body. Her eyes were eager and excited, her nostrils wide as saucers. Maggie could feel the looming threat. Fie was getting better and better, every race, every training session, and every trailer ride. The athlete was finally appearing within the usually stern filly. Ripley wanted to let her go, but there was still a quarter of a mile left to the gallop. The five furlong workout would end coming around toward the final turn once again. Fie would be unprepared.
Maggie could feel the energy spread from Fie to Wish. The mahogany bay was almost instantly changed. Her legs pranced forward, her eyes flickered from gentle to intense and back again. She couldn't make up her mind. Maggie still had control with her fingers, but it was becoming less and less. Wish wanted to break it as Fie managed to crank a length lead out away from Ripley's confident control. Maggie gritted her teeth when the leather cruised over her fingers, leaving burn marks. The mile and a quarter spun away from them. Ripley glanced at Maggie and nodded.
With a relieved breath, Maggie let the reins out and gasped in shock when Wish Upon A Star bolted forward. The mahogany bay filly roared away from Fiery Touch, eyes wild and willing. Her body hurtled over the track, an angel of the earth come to play. Ripley shook her head from two lengths back and let the reins slide through more slowly. Wish was a talented filly and she was going to be a tough horse by the end of this year and next year. However, the horse Ripley was on happened to be tougher and stronger at this point in time. Ripley simply flicked her wrist, tossed her reins and Fie instantly loomed up on Wish's outside.
The fillies poured it on going around the clubhouse turn. Wish cut the corner excellently, legs moving masterfully over the loamy dirt. She was on top of the world. She loved cutting the corners and most of the time couldn't do to having outside post positions. This was a great strength and she'd be willing to use it in the Bonifica Derby against Predator and the rest of the field. Maggie ran her hands along the filly's neck in encouragement when Fie loomed up once again. The homestretch was Fiery Touch's domain.
Her domain, Ripley's thoughts echoed. Ripley did as Maggie and ran her hands over the filly's glorious shoulders. Fie's excellency was always seen in the stretch. The bay with the odd white facial marking, was a little thrown by being asked for her best going into the back stretch. She stuttered a little at first, in a way that she would not come race day. Wish kept to a straight and narrow path, something of which Maggie had had to teach her before she ran again. Ripley was pleased for two reasons: one) because Wish was becoming stronger and two) now Fie would be left to her own devices without the usual training partner interference.
A second after these thoughts passed, the true Fie became apparent. She pushed off powerfully from her hind end and bolted forward, mane flying back and whipping Ripley in the face. Maggie gritted her teeth and asked for Wish to return the favor. The filly instantly kicked off, ears pinned into her mane. She battled back along the rail, running smoothly to rejoin Fie. The blistering heat from the speed was beyond impressive. There was no control or containment for them. Fiery Touch was letting her younger barn-mate have it. She flew, legs a blur, eyes lit with an inner fire. Ripley was pleased with The Devil's half-sister. There was nothing like The Devil, but she could come close with this three year old.
Maggie grinned when Wish managed to stay on term with Fiery Touch. Wish was not quite so brilliant, but she was getting there. The strong bay filly gave it her all, but didn't break her heart over running with Fie. She would improve with age, just as most horses did at Witch Creek if they were not automatically brilliant. Maggie let out a hoot when Fie and Wish cruised through the fifth furlong, Fie slowly drawing ahead. Wish let the older filly have her way, let her have the length lead that she so desired. Wish would be ready to face her toughest field yet.
Both fillies were mighty on the gallop out which was more impressive than the entire workout itself. Ripley stood in the saddle, feet poised elegantly in the irons. She smiled at Maggie. That was pretty awesome. Maggie grinned back, lifting a hand in a thumbs up. The auburn-haired woman smiled and patted Fie's sleek neck. Very impressive Fie. The three year old tossed her head. She was ready for a big second half of the season. Ripley couldn't wait for the filly's first start back. Fie whinnied and Ripley smiled. Apparently, neither could she.
The head trainer nodded to Brooks. Make sure all four of them get cooled out please. Justin smirked at his boss' tone, but did nothing more than send Dazzling Dame for home. The boy was smart most of the time. Brooks barely held his attitude in and forced himself to acknowledge Ripley's authoritative comment with a sharp nod of his head. Ripley sighed. Brooks, Freeze looked brilliant out there. He'll hold up beautifully for you. Twelve furlongs is his distance. The blonde man felt some of the sting lift away and he smiled. He'll do better than hold up, trust me. The blonde egged both the current champion of the barn and the past champion of the barn into a trot. They moved together in that bold jog, a proud carriage touched them both, marking them for what they truly were: brilliant athletes.
Maggie held her breath and stared at Ripley who was now standing on the ground. She hadn't meant to surprise Ripley. Quite the opposite actually. She'd wanted to make the head honcho happy. Ripley had been taking care of her for the last three months now and Maggie was in her debt. The blonde knew it, but she couldn't stop the partying, the drug taking. It was just her life now. The tired bruises were pronounced beneath her baby blues and they halted Ripley's full force of fury when she looked at her jock and best friend. You know better than that Mags.
The blonde nodded and looked down, running her light fingers through Wish's black mane. The two year old was quiet, sensing things were amiss. Ripley gently tugged Fie's reins from Maggie's other hand. The spunky three year old bounded backward as if she'd been touched with an electrified cattle prod. Ripley crooned to her and talked her down from her spookiness. Fie let out a body shaking sigh and Ripley took pity on the situation. It did no one any good for Ripley's fires and demons to come out and play. The auburn haired woman swung quietly aboard the muscled three year old filly and guided her toward the dirt track. Maggie grimly followed, Wish walked along, head level, taking care of her emotional rider. You would never guess that the filly had taken on top competitors in her last start off of her level temperament. That was one of the many gifts of Wish, Maggie thought. The Everyday Hero filly understood the situation.
She's awesome isn't she though, Rip? Maggie called when her boss picked up a jog on Fie. Ripley didn't answer for a moment. She relaxed kindly into Fie's intense frame, admiring the power that rumbled beneath the dappled out hide. Fiery Touch was coming into her own. Her self-confidence had improved off of her two important last victories and a month back at the farm. Like Freeze, Fie hadn't been much of a sport when it came to vacation. She'd been slightly less demanding, but gallops and trail rides had been a necessity when it came to keeping the Touch Up filly happy and controllable. Yeah, she is quite the rider. She'll do. I'll put her on a trial period like I did for you over the years. Sometimes I wonder if I should have ever taken you off the trial period. Maggie felt the sting of the slap, but ignored it. She knew she'd let Ripley down somewhere along the way recently. Her riding performance hadn't sagged a bit, but their friendship was suffering and showing some holes that needed patching.
Maggie trotted Wish up to match Fie's grand strides. The three year old filly had such a confident aura around her these days. Wish also was experiencing a momentary career high. The filly bowed her elegant neck, twisted her ears back and forth eagerly. She was so pleased with herself after her second win and it showed. She'd been training and galloping like a freight train. Her body was coiled and ready for a dominating run. Ripley sighed and glanced at Maggie. Maggie sent an easy going smile her way and Ripley's anger melted. It matters what I think Maggie. I just wish you hadn't gone behind my back. And especially to Brooks.
Maggie lifted her eyebrows as the fillies kicked it into long, contented lopes. Why is there trouble in paradise? Ripley snorted. On the contrary. Paradise was especially grand at the moment and Ripley didn't want to let it go. No, no trouble. But I'm the boss. Maggie stuck her tongue out. Oh see this a dominance thing... I see. Ripley shook her head and brought Fie close enough to Wish so that she could push Maggie halfway out of the saddle. Not even close.
Maggie rolled her eyes out of mock fear and leaned forward. How far and fast do you want it Marsh? Ripley let out a rolling laugh and grinned. Mile and a quarter gallop. Five furlong workout. Maggie shook her head. The head lady never got tired. Ripley let Fie out a notch and smiled when the scopey bay leaped forward like a tiger. Fiery Touch was ready to move up and on. Her last two victories had pushed her and in the Fleur De Lis Derby she would face a horse she knew very well and whom Ripley knew very well. Midnight Thriller was one tough filly. She was finally understanding what racing was all about. The same as Fie in many cases. Well Fiery Touch was on a roll and she'd be ready to go. Fie would sit just off of Midnight Thriller. For a closer she had a relatively strong cruising speed that could carry her throughout a race.
Wish would have the toughest race of her career in the Bonafica Derby. She would face five other horses, three of whom were older. Only one, Predator from IRS, was a front runner. The rest were mid-pack runners or closers. Maggie was positive that Wish had a shot in this race. She just needed to get a good position in second or third behind Predator. A good striking position would be key coming down the homestretch in the nine furlong race. Wish tossed her head violently as if feeling Maggie's intense thought process. She bolted ahead of Fiery Touch, eyes bright and round. She was ready to roll.
Ripley let Fiery Touch's true power come out in the moment that Wish exploded. The reins slipped through her fingers and Fie instantly spread out, her black legs stretched forward and then she pulled herself up, gathering them in tightly. Fie expanded and contracted with each of her breaths and rated beautifully off the energetic Everyday Hero filly. Her attitude was wonderful in the saddle. Ripley sat as still as stone as the bays wound their way up the backstretch. Everyone was so calm and collected, defying the speed of light in pure poise. This was what made a Witch Creek horse: the burning power that threatened behind these beautiful facades. There was no unattractive horse at Witch Creek. Everyone of them was gorgeous and allowed to be a horse. Everyone of them was happy.
The gallop strengthened with every single stride that passed. Speed improved and lungs expanded and contracted more quickly to match it. Wish was content on the inside. Fie pressed in on her, but the filly fought her off and gained back her space without even blinking. She was as steady as a rocking horse. Maggie twitched her fingers and the filly's ears flicked. She was a kind-hearted soul. She wouldn't move totally until Maggie asked her too. Fie on the hand was pulling to get going. Her muscled frame shouldered forward and she placed her head and neck just ahead of Wish. Her stride was only checked by Ripley's light hands and body. Her eyes were eager and excited, her nostrils wide as saucers. Maggie could feel the looming threat. Fie was getting better and better, every race, every training session, and every trailer ride. The athlete was finally appearing within the usually stern filly. Ripley wanted to let her go, but there was still a quarter of a mile left to the gallop. The five furlong workout would end coming around toward the final turn once again. Fie would be unprepared.
Maggie could feel the energy spread from Fie to Wish. The mahogany bay was almost instantly changed. Her legs pranced forward, her eyes flickered from gentle to intense and back again. She couldn't make up her mind. Maggie still had control with her fingers, but it was becoming less and less. Wish wanted to break it as Fie managed to crank a length lead out away from Ripley's confident control. Maggie gritted her teeth when the leather cruised over her fingers, leaving burn marks. The mile and a quarter spun away from them. Ripley glanced at Maggie and nodded.
With a relieved breath, Maggie let the reins out and gasped in shock when Wish Upon A Star bolted forward. The mahogany bay filly roared away from Fiery Touch, eyes wild and willing. Her body hurtled over the track, an angel of the earth come to play. Ripley shook her head from two lengths back and let the reins slide through more slowly. Wish was a talented filly and she was going to be a tough horse by the end of this year and next year. However, the horse Ripley was on happened to be tougher and stronger at this point in time. Ripley simply flicked her wrist, tossed her reins and Fie instantly loomed up on Wish's outside.
The fillies poured it on going around the clubhouse turn. Wish cut the corner excellently, legs moving masterfully over the loamy dirt. She was on top of the world. She loved cutting the corners and most of the time couldn't do to having outside post positions. This was a great strength and she'd be willing to use it in the Bonifica Derby against Predator and the rest of the field. Maggie ran her hands along the filly's neck in encouragement when Fie loomed up once again. The homestretch was Fiery Touch's domain.
Her domain, Ripley's thoughts echoed. Ripley did as Maggie and ran her hands over the filly's glorious shoulders. Fie's excellency was always seen in the stretch. The bay with the odd white facial marking, was a little thrown by being asked for her best going into the back stretch. She stuttered a little at first, in a way that she would not come race day. Wish kept to a straight and narrow path, something of which Maggie had had to teach her before she ran again. Ripley was pleased for two reasons: one) because Wish was becoming stronger and two) now Fie would be left to her own devices without the usual training partner interference.
A second after these thoughts passed, the true Fie became apparent. She pushed off powerfully from her hind end and bolted forward, mane flying back and whipping Ripley in the face. Maggie gritted her teeth and asked for Wish to return the favor. The filly instantly kicked off, ears pinned into her mane. She battled back along the rail, running smoothly to rejoin Fie. The blistering heat from the speed was beyond impressive. There was no control or containment for them. Fiery Touch was letting her younger barn-mate have it. She flew, legs a blur, eyes lit with an inner fire. Ripley was pleased with The Devil's half-sister. There was nothing like The Devil, but she could come close with this three year old.
Maggie grinned when Wish managed to stay on term with Fiery Touch. Wish was not quite so brilliant, but she was getting there. The strong bay filly gave it her all, but didn't break her heart over running with Fie. She would improve with age, just as most horses did at Witch Creek if they were not automatically brilliant. Maggie let out a hoot when Fie and Wish cruised through the fifth furlong, Fie slowly drawing ahead. Wish let the older filly have her way, let her have the length lead that she so desired. Wish would be ready to face her toughest field yet.
Both fillies were mighty on the gallop out which was more impressive than the entire workout itself. Ripley stood in the saddle, feet poised elegantly in the irons. She smiled at Maggie. That was pretty awesome. Maggie grinned back, lifting a hand in a thumbs up. The auburn-haired woman smiled and patted Fie's sleek neck. Very impressive Fie. The three year old tossed her head. She was ready for a big second half of the season. Ripley couldn't wait for the filly's first start back. Fie whinnied and Ripley smiled. Apparently, neither could she.