June Week Two: Scroll for Individuals
Screaming Mimi& Fiery Touch. Wish Upon A Star& Dazzling Dame. Ashes to Ashes& Mastermind.
screaming talent
Courtesy of Event of The Year Photos.
Two horses were looking for blood and revenge. Both of them were female and both were three year olds. One was a grade four and the other grade five and both of them had competed at the highest level of racing at one time or another. Screaming Mimi and Fiery Touch were loaded with talent and rage. Neither was going to accept defeat come their next races. Fiery Touch was skipping the Coaching Club American Oaks in favor of the Stylisha Derby. The bay needed a win before she killed someone at Witch Creek. And fast. Fie was a fast filly with a gloriously intense heart. She wanted to do some damage and make a statement. She had missed the start of the Mother Goose and had still been gaining ground when Paradise Island crossed the wire seven lengths in front. She was looking for redemption and then later on in the year, would be looking for revenge as well.
Screaming Mimi, the glorious black Crescential filly, stood proudly on the track, analyzing her surroundings with a cold, clever eye. She too was out for blood. Her three starts as a three year old had been surprisingly dull, but rest and an auction had her up in arms again. Her usual dark aura, nicknamed the Black Widow, had been about for the last three weeks. She was a bit of a deadly filly, with a stone cold attitude in the barn and a Hannibal type attitude over the other horses. She was just the horse to give Fiery Touch a challenge. The perfect horse glared at her workmate, flattened her ears when Fie met her angered gaze with one of her own. The hierarchy now was Screaming Mimi, Dazzling Dame and Fiery Touch with everyone else below that trio in some messy order that changed from week to week.
Fie, Dame, and Mims were paddock mates, ferocious to one another on a regular basis, but they freaked out if anyone was out of sight. It was clear that they were in charge at Witch Creek. With Fiery Touch's increasingly tough luck attitude, she had begun to challenge more and more for her original position of leadership. She needed this workout today and a devastating win in the Stylisha Derby in order to become satisfied once again. Screaming Mimi needed this workout to open her mind to racing again and to give her that brilliant push for the Saint Anne Derby. Both fillies were looking to blow a hole in the wind and their riders would be more than capable of getting them there.
Ripley and Maggie sat quietly on their backs, feeling the power that emanated through each. Fie and Mims were of equal height, though Mim's had a brawnier neck and butt on her. Fie's chest was more powerful and she looked like a true dirt filly. Mim's was bloodthirsty this morning, she flattened her ears again like a snake when Maggie petted her neck. The Black Widow had an attitude like none other. On the ground she could not stand Maggie's attention, but the only place Maggie was safe was on the black horse's back. That was fine with Maggie. She didn't need a relationship like Ripley did to ride well. She just needed to know exactly what to do in order to get the best results. It was a trade that she had learned riding in Japan and Europe. It suited Screaming Mimi and that was perfectly fantastic.
So far Fiery Touch was the only one with competition in the Stylisha Derby. She would face close racing's Perfect Moment. Perfect Moment was a mid-pack runner who had only won once this year, much like Fie. However, Fie had nearly given Paradise Island and Winning Touch everything they had in their races. Fie was cutting back in class, but she was better than she had ever been. The bay filly launched two solid, not very heart warming bucks, wanting to be off now. Ripley and Maggie looked at each other with a sigh of annoyance. These fillies weren't ones to take in the magnificent scenery of Witch Creek and appreciate it. They wanted to get right to the point. The riders had to oblige them or all Hell would break loose. Ripley let Fie out into a confident jog, letting the filly's sweeping confident stride carry her along. Their relationship hadn't been quite as good in the beginning, had not been an instant connection. It had taken Maggie to ride her for Ripley to realize that she had finally figured out the perfect way to ride Fie. Which was just to let her get so built up during the race, that the homestretch was where she left it all out on the track. Ripley patted the filly, letting her black mane whip her face as they cruised over the cuppy track.
Maggie posted to every stride of the Black Widow's, feeling her out. She was definitely in command today. She knew her next race was coming up fairly quickly. Had seen her tack trunk loaded into the trailer just this morning. She knew she would be leaving Witch Creek to show off that she should not have been forgotten, should not have simply sold for $5.5 million and breeding reserves. Screaming Mimi was worth her weight in gold and she knew it. She strutted over the earth, careful to keep alongside Fiery Touch and flattening her ears when that edgier, nervier filly so much as a made a move for the lead. The blonde woman kept the black filly away from Fie. Fie was too explosive for her to react quietly to the dominating Black Widow. It would be a brawl on the track, not a cat fight.
The pair rounded into the backstretch quietly, moving eagerly on the bridle. Neither rider kept a tight hold, just let the horses do their own thing. It worked quite well. Gradually, Fie and Mims began to relax into the bridle, lower their heads and stretch their legs out. It was a grand sight to behold. The 16.2 hand and 16.3 hand fillies were such beautifully tough creatures. They tossed their heads and moved in sync. Maggie and Ripley began to make a game out of it. If Maggie moved Mims over, Ripley moved Fie over to the side just as smoothly. It was almost like a dance. The women smiled at one another. I can't wait to see what these two do on the track Ripley. We know Fie has it in her to win. I mean look at that record. If we turned all of those thirds and seconds into wins, we would be having the champion filly right now, rather than Silver Stride Stables. Ripley nodded in agreement. Fiery Touch had been doing quite well. She'd scared Paradise Island in the Acorn Stakes. She'd lost the race after the break, but would have been scarily close had she run her race. Ripley was sure Fie was going to be amazing by the end of the year and very capable of beating the likes of Paradise Island, Winning Touch and Eternal Phantom.
The Black Widow is sure to do well her first start back. She's never tired and has held her condition fantastically for all of the things she has been through. We're lucky Maggiletti. Very lucky. They'll do fantastic. I'm positive. There is more than meets the eye in terms of their records. Maggie and Ripley pondered silently about the fillies, sure they had better horses than the racing world in America gave them credit for. Fiery Touch was a beast in her own way and Screaming Mimi was a champion on the return. The Stylisha Derby and Saint Anne Derby were just the the starting points half way through the racing calendar.
Fie will be running 10 furlongs and Mims 9. She should be able to handle that quite easy for her return. Let's do a mile and a quarter gallop with a seven furlong workout. Get them both ready for the distance. Maggie nodded in agreement, stood up in the saddle and asked calmly for Mims' sleek gallop. She was rewarded instantly. Screaming Mimi bounded out into a stylish run, but she really did bound. She played, knees flinging about, eyes glinting with enthusiasm. Fiery Touch was much more focused. She galloped with her head high and her ears pricked. Her tongue bounced along. She was keen on gunning it, but Ripley's continued lock on her kept her from getting too excited. She settled down about halfway through the backstretch again. She let off the gas pedal and cruised just off of Screaming Mimi's dark hip.
Neither filly was really keen on picking up much of a galloping speed. Both of them were enjoying the high cruising speed that they were at now. Both of them understood that fast running came out later on, when it was most important. The gallop portion of the workout was simple. Mims and Fie were both experienced enough to go about their business with solid attitudes. Mims continued her play and Fie remained focused on the track ahead. Neither rider moved a muscle. Both of them were also content. The fillies were not slouches. They put the most effort into their work possible and didn't need much encouragement for this simple part of the workout.
The pair rolled through the mile and a quarter, neither of them breathing faster than was necessary. Fie was a little keen on getting going. She crow hopped beneath Ripley, pulling for more rein. Maggie shook her head. Mims was so patient compared to Fie, so collected and calculating. Maggie admired the hot blood of Fiery Touch from her position on the cool black filly. Ripley nodded as they galloped into the beginning of the seven furlong workout. Maggie tightened the reins on Mims and the Black Widow came out. She pinned her ears so tightly that they seemed melded to her skull. She put on a show of speed so that instantly she was a half-length in front of Fiery Touch. Both fillies were dramatically consistent closers and glorious ones when they had the right pace set ups. In workouts, neither of them had the edge or the speed that they were used to. They bolstered each other up and did the real running in the homestretch just as they did in an actual race.
The pair melded perfectly together around the turn into the backstretch, bodies bouncing off one another extremely aggressively. This was a true show down between the top fillies in the barn and possible enemies on the track later on down the line. Screaming Mimi and Fiery Touch were at each other's throats, quite literally. The Black Widow actually turned and attempted a saving bite upon Fie's sleek brown neck. The riders moved forward aggressively in response, pursuing their mounts with blazing eyes. There was no time for a personal vendetta to build up between these two powerful three year olds. They had other ponds to dive into and other fish to throttle.
Speeding devastatingly quick over the ground, both fillies stretched into their lean greyhound forms. Lather flew back and coated Ripley's body from her mount. Fiery Touch was flying and she was worked up. She was tired of waiting for Screaming Mimi to make her move. The race horses had whipped through the first four furlongs quite easily, but now they wanted more. The riders wanted more. Ten furlongs and nine furlongs were the tough goals. These horses would be at the end of that long distance first if Ripley and Maggie had any say in it. Ripley leaned forward, shouting loudly in Fie's ears. Twin towers twitched back to catch the shout, Fie's body braced and suddenly she was a brown comet racing over the track. Her strong body pushing ferociously off the ground, kicking dirt clumps into Mims' eyes.
Screaming Mimi let out a grunt of acceptance and annoyance as the clump was blinked away. Maggie tightened the reins and then dropped them, refocusing her powerful black engine. Fie was scooting away impressively, but this similar situation had occurred one workout before with Red Herring. Ever so patient, Mims now stalked her workmate into the far turn. Maggie narrowed her eyes, preparing for that onslaught of speed as Mims caught sight of the hole on the rail. She didn't even argue this time.
The black filly leaped forward like a cheetah, screaming up the inside of the rail. Ripley was not Brookson, however. Ripley knew all sorts of rail tricks. The auburn haired woman, narrowed her eyes, hearing the wild hoof beats of the Crescential filly. Fie heard them too. She braced. Fie had learned bravery, courage and now she would learn about iron will and determination. Ripley waited until Screaming Mimi came up beside them on the rail, her pulsing black body reaching beyond Fie. And then suddenly, her stride slowed. Maggie looked above in shock as Mims' momentum suddenly lost its boost. She shouted in frustration when she noticed that Fie was suddenly a foot closer than before. She'd made a horizontal move. The filly hadn't gone forward, but sideways and she wasn't penning Screaming Mimi in by any means.
Ripley sent a witchy smile in Maggie's direction and asked her mount for more. Fiery Touch lurched forward again, finding another gear, ears flopping back to sink into her black mane. She cruised away from Screaming Mimi, gaining confidence and realizing that she could run a foe into the ground. Ripley knew Maggie would come back with a reply, but not as quick as she actually did. Ripley glanced to the outside and stared as Screaming Mimi suddenly rocketed up from behind Fie to take the empty spot running beside her. Ripley didn't allow to Fie to be pushed onto the rail, when Maggie asked her train of a filly to move over. Fie was fleeter than Mims, but Mims had speed and kept her hemmed in nice and tight.
Fie bared her teeth around her bit, her eyes rimmed with an angry and ferocious red. She fought back mightily against her brutish leader and workmate. Fiery Touch was not a slouch either. It was time for Screaming Mimi, her bully, to learn that. Maggie was impressed with the way that both Fie and Mims were holding up. Her black train would have steam rolled any other lower class filly. She had steam rolled Red Herring just in her last workout and he was considered to be one of the top two year old dirt colts in training. However, he was inexperienced and young. Fiery Touch was older and tougher, mentally and physically.
Mims and Fie were throwing down the gauntlet up the stretch, bodies bunching and loosening, limbs blurs beneath thousand pound bodies. Their breathing was energetic and their eyes were blazing. Neither was giving in and neither was having her way. It spurred them on to greater speed and to an astonishingly fast finish. Maggie tapped the stopwatch attached to wrist as they passed by the wire swiftly. She didn't give it another thought until they were well into the final turn. Both fillies had learned competition and both of them were measuring up quite brilliantly with one another. There was no doubt they were tough. Their next starts would be statements that while Witch Creek was out of the top filly races for now, they would certainly be there in the end.
It took another minute before the fillies were pulled up and trotting. Their bodies were pulsing with energy, not tired energy, but energy that said that wanted to go at it again and again. Until a true winner was revealed. They sent dangerous looks at each other and Fie even went so far as to launch a kick. But Mims was fast and like the train she was pushed into Fie's haunch instead, nearly sending the filly to the ground. Ripley and Maggie pulled them away, feeling like mothers to their scrabbling children. Ripley eyed Maggie. What was the time for the final quarter? Maggie rolled her eyes innocently. She'd been caught. I know you caught it Maggie. The head trainer sees everything. Maggie sighed, looked down at her wrist and her baby blues nearly bugged out of her head. She looked back up at Ripley, who gestured for an answer. :23 flat. Ripley shook her head. That's good enough to be a first quarter! Let alone the final time for a workout that we just pushed them through. Maggie and Ripley stared at each other.
I didn't make a mistake Ripley. The head trainer looked with baffled eyes down at her excited mount. Fie was definitely not the slouch the press was making her out to be. She was a real race horse and she would prove it by the end of the year. Then the racing world better pay attention to The Wire under card next week. The real runners might not be running in the CCA Oaks after all. Maggie nodded in agreement, not even hearing the words. Screaming Mimi might not like her, but both of them had something to prove. Their first race together would be just the beginning. The Crescential filly was on the comeback trail and ready to show the racing world just what they had missed the first half of Year Twelve.
Screaming Mimi, the glorious black Crescential filly, stood proudly on the track, analyzing her surroundings with a cold, clever eye. She too was out for blood. Her three starts as a three year old had been surprisingly dull, but rest and an auction had her up in arms again. Her usual dark aura, nicknamed the Black Widow, had been about for the last three weeks. She was a bit of a deadly filly, with a stone cold attitude in the barn and a Hannibal type attitude over the other horses. She was just the horse to give Fiery Touch a challenge. The perfect horse glared at her workmate, flattened her ears when Fie met her angered gaze with one of her own. The hierarchy now was Screaming Mimi, Dazzling Dame and Fiery Touch with everyone else below that trio in some messy order that changed from week to week.
Fie, Dame, and Mims were paddock mates, ferocious to one another on a regular basis, but they freaked out if anyone was out of sight. It was clear that they were in charge at Witch Creek. With Fiery Touch's increasingly tough luck attitude, she had begun to challenge more and more for her original position of leadership. She needed this workout today and a devastating win in the Stylisha Derby in order to become satisfied once again. Screaming Mimi needed this workout to open her mind to racing again and to give her that brilliant push for the Saint Anne Derby. Both fillies were looking to blow a hole in the wind and their riders would be more than capable of getting them there.
Ripley and Maggie sat quietly on their backs, feeling the power that emanated through each. Fie and Mims were of equal height, though Mim's had a brawnier neck and butt on her. Fie's chest was more powerful and she looked like a true dirt filly. Mim's was bloodthirsty this morning, she flattened her ears again like a snake when Maggie petted her neck. The Black Widow had an attitude like none other. On the ground she could not stand Maggie's attention, but the only place Maggie was safe was on the black horse's back. That was fine with Maggie. She didn't need a relationship like Ripley did to ride well. She just needed to know exactly what to do in order to get the best results. It was a trade that she had learned riding in Japan and Europe. It suited Screaming Mimi and that was perfectly fantastic.
So far Fiery Touch was the only one with competition in the Stylisha Derby. She would face close racing's Perfect Moment. Perfect Moment was a mid-pack runner who had only won once this year, much like Fie. However, Fie had nearly given Paradise Island and Winning Touch everything they had in their races. Fie was cutting back in class, but she was better than she had ever been. The bay filly launched two solid, not very heart warming bucks, wanting to be off now. Ripley and Maggie looked at each other with a sigh of annoyance. These fillies weren't ones to take in the magnificent scenery of Witch Creek and appreciate it. They wanted to get right to the point. The riders had to oblige them or all Hell would break loose. Ripley let Fie out into a confident jog, letting the filly's sweeping confident stride carry her along. Their relationship hadn't been quite as good in the beginning, had not been an instant connection. It had taken Maggie to ride her for Ripley to realize that she had finally figured out the perfect way to ride Fie. Which was just to let her get so built up during the race, that the homestretch was where she left it all out on the track. Ripley patted the filly, letting her black mane whip her face as they cruised over the cuppy track.
Maggie posted to every stride of the Black Widow's, feeling her out. She was definitely in command today. She knew her next race was coming up fairly quickly. Had seen her tack trunk loaded into the trailer just this morning. She knew she would be leaving Witch Creek to show off that she should not have been forgotten, should not have simply sold for $5.5 million and breeding reserves. Screaming Mimi was worth her weight in gold and she knew it. She strutted over the earth, careful to keep alongside Fiery Touch and flattening her ears when that edgier, nervier filly so much as a made a move for the lead. The blonde woman kept the black filly away from Fie. Fie was too explosive for her to react quietly to the dominating Black Widow. It would be a brawl on the track, not a cat fight.
The pair rounded into the backstretch quietly, moving eagerly on the bridle. Neither rider kept a tight hold, just let the horses do their own thing. It worked quite well. Gradually, Fie and Mims began to relax into the bridle, lower their heads and stretch their legs out. It was a grand sight to behold. The 16.2 hand and 16.3 hand fillies were such beautifully tough creatures. They tossed their heads and moved in sync. Maggie and Ripley began to make a game out of it. If Maggie moved Mims over, Ripley moved Fie over to the side just as smoothly. It was almost like a dance. The women smiled at one another. I can't wait to see what these two do on the track Ripley. We know Fie has it in her to win. I mean look at that record. If we turned all of those thirds and seconds into wins, we would be having the champion filly right now, rather than Silver Stride Stables. Ripley nodded in agreement. Fiery Touch had been doing quite well. She'd scared Paradise Island in the Acorn Stakes. She'd lost the race after the break, but would have been scarily close had she run her race. Ripley was sure Fie was going to be amazing by the end of the year and very capable of beating the likes of Paradise Island, Winning Touch and Eternal Phantom.
The Black Widow is sure to do well her first start back. She's never tired and has held her condition fantastically for all of the things she has been through. We're lucky Maggiletti. Very lucky. They'll do fantastic. I'm positive. There is more than meets the eye in terms of their records. Maggie and Ripley pondered silently about the fillies, sure they had better horses than the racing world in America gave them credit for. Fiery Touch was a beast in her own way and Screaming Mimi was a champion on the return. The Stylisha Derby and Saint Anne Derby were just the the starting points half way through the racing calendar.
Fie will be running 10 furlongs and Mims 9. She should be able to handle that quite easy for her return. Let's do a mile and a quarter gallop with a seven furlong workout. Get them both ready for the distance. Maggie nodded in agreement, stood up in the saddle and asked calmly for Mims' sleek gallop. She was rewarded instantly. Screaming Mimi bounded out into a stylish run, but she really did bound. She played, knees flinging about, eyes glinting with enthusiasm. Fiery Touch was much more focused. She galloped with her head high and her ears pricked. Her tongue bounced along. She was keen on gunning it, but Ripley's continued lock on her kept her from getting too excited. She settled down about halfway through the backstretch again. She let off the gas pedal and cruised just off of Screaming Mimi's dark hip.
Neither filly was really keen on picking up much of a galloping speed. Both of them were enjoying the high cruising speed that they were at now. Both of them understood that fast running came out later on, when it was most important. The gallop portion of the workout was simple. Mims and Fie were both experienced enough to go about their business with solid attitudes. Mims continued her play and Fie remained focused on the track ahead. Neither rider moved a muscle. Both of them were also content. The fillies were not slouches. They put the most effort into their work possible and didn't need much encouragement for this simple part of the workout.
The pair rolled through the mile and a quarter, neither of them breathing faster than was necessary. Fie was a little keen on getting going. She crow hopped beneath Ripley, pulling for more rein. Maggie shook her head. Mims was so patient compared to Fie, so collected and calculating. Maggie admired the hot blood of Fiery Touch from her position on the cool black filly. Ripley nodded as they galloped into the beginning of the seven furlong workout. Maggie tightened the reins on Mims and the Black Widow came out. She pinned her ears so tightly that they seemed melded to her skull. She put on a show of speed so that instantly she was a half-length in front of Fiery Touch. Both fillies were dramatically consistent closers and glorious ones when they had the right pace set ups. In workouts, neither of them had the edge or the speed that they were used to. They bolstered each other up and did the real running in the homestretch just as they did in an actual race.
The pair melded perfectly together around the turn into the backstretch, bodies bouncing off one another extremely aggressively. This was a true show down between the top fillies in the barn and possible enemies on the track later on down the line. Screaming Mimi and Fiery Touch were at each other's throats, quite literally. The Black Widow actually turned and attempted a saving bite upon Fie's sleek brown neck. The riders moved forward aggressively in response, pursuing their mounts with blazing eyes. There was no time for a personal vendetta to build up between these two powerful three year olds. They had other ponds to dive into and other fish to throttle.
Speeding devastatingly quick over the ground, both fillies stretched into their lean greyhound forms. Lather flew back and coated Ripley's body from her mount. Fiery Touch was flying and she was worked up. She was tired of waiting for Screaming Mimi to make her move. The race horses had whipped through the first four furlongs quite easily, but now they wanted more. The riders wanted more. Ten furlongs and nine furlongs were the tough goals. These horses would be at the end of that long distance first if Ripley and Maggie had any say in it. Ripley leaned forward, shouting loudly in Fie's ears. Twin towers twitched back to catch the shout, Fie's body braced and suddenly she was a brown comet racing over the track. Her strong body pushing ferociously off the ground, kicking dirt clumps into Mims' eyes.
Screaming Mimi let out a grunt of acceptance and annoyance as the clump was blinked away. Maggie tightened the reins and then dropped them, refocusing her powerful black engine. Fie was scooting away impressively, but this similar situation had occurred one workout before with Red Herring. Ever so patient, Mims now stalked her workmate into the far turn. Maggie narrowed her eyes, preparing for that onslaught of speed as Mims caught sight of the hole on the rail. She didn't even argue this time.
The black filly leaped forward like a cheetah, screaming up the inside of the rail. Ripley was not Brookson, however. Ripley knew all sorts of rail tricks. The auburn haired woman, narrowed her eyes, hearing the wild hoof beats of the Crescential filly. Fie heard them too. She braced. Fie had learned bravery, courage and now she would learn about iron will and determination. Ripley waited until Screaming Mimi came up beside them on the rail, her pulsing black body reaching beyond Fie. And then suddenly, her stride slowed. Maggie looked above in shock as Mims' momentum suddenly lost its boost. She shouted in frustration when she noticed that Fie was suddenly a foot closer than before. She'd made a horizontal move. The filly hadn't gone forward, but sideways and she wasn't penning Screaming Mimi in by any means.
Ripley sent a witchy smile in Maggie's direction and asked her mount for more. Fiery Touch lurched forward again, finding another gear, ears flopping back to sink into her black mane. She cruised away from Screaming Mimi, gaining confidence and realizing that she could run a foe into the ground. Ripley knew Maggie would come back with a reply, but not as quick as she actually did. Ripley glanced to the outside and stared as Screaming Mimi suddenly rocketed up from behind Fie to take the empty spot running beside her. Ripley didn't allow to Fie to be pushed onto the rail, when Maggie asked her train of a filly to move over. Fie was fleeter than Mims, but Mims had speed and kept her hemmed in nice and tight.
Fie bared her teeth around her bit, her eyes rimmed with an angry and ferocious red. She fought back mightily against her brutish leader and workmate. Fiery Touch was not a slouch either. It was time for Screaming Mimi, her bully, to learn that. Maggie was impressed with the way that both Fie and Mims were holding up. Her black train would have steam rolled any other lower class filly. She had steam rolled Red Herring just in her last workout and he was considered to be one of the top two year old dirt colts in training. However, he was inexperienced and young. Fiery Touch was older and tougher, mentally and physically.
Mims and Fie were throwing down the gauntlet up the stretch, bodies bunching and loosening, limbs blurs beneath thousand pound bodies. Their breathing was energetic and their eyes were blazing. Neither was giving in and neither was having her way. It spurred them on to greater speed and to an astonishingly fast finish. Maggie tapped the stopwatch attached to wrist as they passed by the wire swiftly. She didn't give it another thought until they were well into the final turn. Both fillies had learned competition and both of them were measuring up quite brilliantly with one another. There was no doubt they were tough. Their next starts would be statements that while Witch Creek was out of the top filly races for now, they would certainly be there in the end.
It took another minute before the fillies were pulled up and trotting. Their bodies were pulsing with energy, not tired energy, but energy that said that wanted to go at it again and again. Until a true winner was revealed. They sent dangerous looks at each other and Fie even went so far as to launch a kick. But Mims was fast and like the train she was pushed into Fie's haunch instead, nearly sending the filly to the ground. Ripley and Maggie pulled them away, feeling like mothers to their scrabbling children. Ripley eyed Maggie. What was the time for the final quarter? Maggie rolled her eyes innocently. She'd been caught. I know you caught it Maggie. The head trainer sees everything. Maggie sighed, looked down at her wrist and her baby blues nearly bugged out of her head. She looked back up at Ripley, who gestured for an answer. :23 flat. Ripley shook her head. That's good enough to be a first quarter! Let alone the final time for a workout that we just pushed them through. Maggie and Ripley stared at each other.
I didn't make a mistake Ripley. The head trainer looked with baffled eyes down at her excited mount. Fie was definitely not the slouch the press was making her out to be. She was a real race horse and she would prove it by the end of the year. Then the racing world better pay attention to The Wire under card next week. The real runners might not be running in the CCA Oaks after all. Maggie nodded in agreement, not even hearing the words. Screaming Mimi might not like her, but both of them had something to prove. Their first race together would be just the beginning. The Crescential filly was on the comeback trail and ready to show the racing world just what they had missed the first half of Year Twelve.
mighty wish
Courtesy of Event of The Year Photos.
The fillies strutted proudly over the turf, eyes bright and bodies as graceful as mythical creatures fit for the gods. The dark bay filly and the warm chocolate brown looked over the turf hills, bodies braced in sheer excitement. Maggie and Justin sat atop their mounts, blue eyes and brown eyes glinting just as eagerly as their mounts. It had been a week for celebration among the Witch Creek Stable staff. Frozen Motion had roared to a two length victory in the Belmont Turf Classic, Dazzling Dame had won in her third start back as a three year old, Ashes to Ashes had flaunted his ultra-talent by beating a large field in the Comet Cup. Three wins, accompanied by a third place finish in the Matron Stakes via Wish Upon a Star, had bolstered the spirits of those at Witch Creek.
Maggie was pleased with the chocolate filly with the bright white stripe. Wish had performed to her very best capabilities at The Wire. Maggie still had the task of reversing the Everyday Hero filly's form. Two out of the money finishes did not look great with two in the money finishes. Wish was better than that. It would just take her a little bit to get her mind in the game. Maggie was very patient and very willing to work with her. Wish would be running in the big time soon enough. There were seven months until she would make her start in the Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies. She would be ready to rock and roll then. Maggie patted the filly's gorgeous neck and grinned as she stepped out into a fluid jog.
Well Justin was quite pleased these days. He'd told Ripley that he had figured out the Jessie James filly and he hadn't been kidding. Dazzling Dame had run exactly as he knew she would. She'd just needed a little conditioning, a little nudge here or there and then she would perform like the queen. Ripley hadn't believed him until the dark bay had been pouring it on in the homestretch over three other foes. Dame was a powerhouse in disguise. She was exactly the older turf mare they would need this year and the next year. Witch Creek had proved to the turf world via Frozen Motion that Witch Creek did not just train top dirt horses. The now grade three colt would need a female partner in taking on the turf division. Justin knew Dame was just the horse for the job. He patted her temperamental neck, laughing as she swung it to the side, head cocked to the right, and ear tuned onto him. Dazzling Dame lifted her legs in a pretty prance and then nodded her head, clearly acknowledging that she knew she was all that.
Maggie admired Dazzling Dame from her mount. She wanted Wish to take in some of the competitive flames that burned deep within Dazzling Dame. It was good for the soul to see some spark. Wish Upon A Star was an eager filly that was willing to please. Maggie knew there was fighting spirit deep within her, knew that it was only a matter of time before it showed up in the race results. She ran her fingers through the black mane of the 16.1 hand filly. Wish had a hidden will power to match her devastating stretch kick. The bay filly loved to run from mid-pack. Maggie could sense the joy that the filly got from throttling one horse after another as she cruised to the front. Wish thought the race ended too soon when she reached the front end and was on her own. Wish had run by the first two finishers in the Matron Stakes only to stop, thinking that the race was over. She'd gotten beat on the square due to her overall greenness. Maggie would not allow that to happen again. The pair would perfect the mid-pack move and they would be ready to roll next time out.
Justin let Dame move out into a free-wheeling canter, keeping a light touch on the reins. The mahogany bay tossed her head in objection to the level of collection, but then gave in. Ripley had gotten along better with the Jessie James filly in the Veritas Stakes Race Two. However, Ripley also knew that the filly was Justin's horse for the taking come October. Dame was all Justin's horse. She liked him the best, let him pet her ears and licked his fingers even when he didn't have any treats for her. Justin ran his fingers through the wispy base of her mane. What a filly. She'd won with aplomb in her third race of the year. She would surely run well again in the third stakes of the Veritas series next week. Justin sighed. It was only a matter of time before her rode in a race. It would be the highlight of his short life by far.
Maggie could see Justin was caught up in his thoughts, but he needed to wake up. Both fillies needed to have a sturdy workout over the turf today. Their seasons were only going to get tougher from here. Both two and three year old divisions were extraordinarily tough. Dame and Wish had to be prepared to face the worst and come out on top. She pushed Wish over with her leg until she was side by side with Justin. Ripley wants a strong mile and a quarter gallop with a three furlong bullet. This will work for both of them. Wish has got to practice her mid pack run at the end of it. And Dame just needs a distance run to open her up. Justin cocked an eyebrow at Maggie. You don't have to explain it to me Maggot. You're the boss. Maggie eyed him. No I'm not. We're on an equal playing field Justin. It's good for you to learn. Justin cowed a little under her stern gaze and then looked over the turf fields.
Ready? Maggie said, unperturbed. Justin nodded and together the riders let the horses move into an energetic gallop. Wish lowered her body quite brilliantly to the ground beneath Maggie. The dramatically beautiful bay just had an innate capability of settling right into stride. She was a wonderful horse to work with, a saint of sorts. Maggie barely moved on the filly, didn't need to move on her just yet. Wish Upon A Star knew how to gallop. She just wasn't sure when it was the right time to pick up more speed and how to sustain that speed over a period of time. She was a few feet away from Dazzling Dame now. Dame was more dramatic when she ran. Her knees lifted high over the turf and she absolutely bounded along. She rocked from side when she ran and carried her head high. The Jessie James filly was an intimidating foe to have. Only a grade five race horse and yet so terrifyingly brilliant, Wish could learn a lot from the deadly filly. Wish kept one ear tuned to her workmate, as if sensing that Maggie wanted her to learn from the older foe.
Justin's face glowed in the bright summer light. He was excited to ride this horse, so thrilled. Dazzling Dame was a queen hidden away in the grade five ranks at the moment. But she would break out very soon. She'd stirred the pot a little in her first victory of the year, only the second of her career. Dame was finally getting the game now. She was ready to rock and roll. Justin barely moved as she lurched along, black mane flying backward and smacking him painfully in the face. She tossed her head for more rein, but he didn't relent. She wanted to gun it. All of her power was loaded in her back end, she pushed off in an attempt to show him who was boss. Justin wasn't impressed. He pulled her head to the right, pushing her with his right leg until she was pushed smack dab against Wish. The Everyday Hero filly flattened her ears and flashed her teeth. Dame squealed, but could do nothing in response, but run with her mate.
Maggie grinned broadly. The eighteen year old was tough and he was doing the right thing for both of their horses. Dame was a smallish filly, brute like in her body frame, but small. Wish was an elegant, willowy filly with an inner iron lady. She pushed heavily against Dazzling Dame, moving sideways with her. The pair moved across the track in an all out match of wills. Maggie could not help but grin. So there was a spirit inside this beautiful body. Wish was showing her more than she had expected in one workout. Maggie had thought it would be a process of getting the filly revved up, but maybe a little contact and tightness would spur the Everyday Hero filly on more. Maybe she was indeed a true mid-pack runner.
The fillies swept over the turf, over the hills, side by side, pushing one another mightily. It was going to be a tiring workout, but they both would easily handle it and learn from it. This was the toughener for them. Dazzling Dame and Wish Upon A Star matched each other beat for beat, not letting the other gain too much ground before closing the gap up again. The mile and a quarter was flying by in a rush of stormy speed. There was no doubt in the riders' minds that these two were going to eventually take the racing world by storm. Dame and Wish were locked in a battle of the minds and wills. Dame was a brutal filly and she knew exactly how to get Wish off stride with a shoulder or a haunch. Wish, however, would respond with a mighty push that nearly sent Dame to her face. Justin pulled his filly away from Wish. She didn't need to get hurt before the Veritas Stakes Race Three. Dame would be ready as ever for that race off this stiff gallop.
The mile and a quarter flew by and Maggie was ready to run. She nodded to Justin who simply let the reins fly through his hands. His dark bay filly lurched forward and sprinted with a powerful kick to a length and a half lead. Maggie grinned. So it was going to be like that was it? She went to her hands and legs on Wish suddenly. The bay pricked her ears up and then flattened them at the rapid driving. She took off instantly, body spreading over the turf like a massive greyhound. Dame was well within her sights and she wanted to bury her.
Together they threw down the gauntlet, eyes blazing and bodies pumping. There was no doubt that these two were tough as nails. They had to be when they were considered bottom of the heap. Maggie and Justin asked no more of them when the fillies were level with one another once again. They were doing enough work on their own. Their black tails and manes poured away from them and they looked glorious midrun. Dame and Wish snorted heavily through their wide nostrils. Oh this was everything they could have hoped for and more. They wanted speed, speed and more speed. The three furlongs was a speck in comparison to the length they truly wanted tor run. Both of them could handle twelve furlongs quite easily and they wanted that distance, but this was good enough.
Maggie and Justin pulled them down the second they crossed the three furlong mark. And neither filly rebelled. They knew their chance to run was coming, knew they had the opportunity to show off their true form and fitness. The riders grinned. A mighty wish would not provide them the satisfaction they needed. The fillies were wishes themselves, gifts from somewhere above. They were ready.
Maggie was pleased with the chocolate filly with the bright white stripe. Wish had performed to her very best capabilities at The Wire. Maggie still had the task of reversing the Everyday Hero filly's form. Two out of the money finishes did not look great with two in the money finishes. Wish was better than that. It would just take her a little bit to get her mind in the game. Maggie was very patient and very willing to work with her. Wish would be running in the big time soon enough. There were seven months until she would make her start in the Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies. She would be ready to rock and roll then. Maggie patted the filly's gorgeous neck and grinned as she stepped out into a fluid jog.
Well Justin was quite pleased these days. He'd told Ripley that he had figured out the Jessie James filly and he hadn't been kidding. Dazzling Dame had run exactly as he knew she would. She'd just needed a little conditioning, a little nudge here or there and then she would perform like the queen. Ripley hadn't believed him until the dark bay had been pouring it on in the homestretch over three other foes. Dame was a powerhouse in disguise. She was exactly the older turf mare they would need this year and the next year. Witch Creek had proved to the turf world via Frozen Motion that Witch Creek did not just train top dirt horses. The now grade three colt would need a female partner in taking on the turf division. Justin knew Dame was just the horse for the job. He patted her temperamental neck, laughing as she swung it to the side, head cocked to the right, and ear tuned onto him. Dazzling Dame lifted her legs in a pretty prance and then nodded her head, clearly acknowledging that she knew she was all that.
Maggie admired Dazzling Dame from her mount. She wanted Wish to take in some of the competitive flames that burned deep within Dazzling Dame. It was good for the soul to see some spark. Wish Upon A Star was an eager filly that was willing to please. Maggie knew there was fighting spirit deep within her, knew that it was only a matter of time before it showed up in the race results. She ran her fingers through the black mane of the 16.1 hand filly. Wish had a hidden will power to match her devastating stretch kick. The bay filly loved to run from mid-pack. Maggie could sense the joy that the filly got from throttling one horse after another as she cruised to the front. Wish thought the race ended too soon when she reached the front end and was on her own. Wish had run by the first two finishers in the Matron Stakes only to stop, thinking that the race was over. She'd gotten beat on the square due to her overall greenness. Maggie would not allow that to happen again. The pair would perfect the mid-pack move and they would be ready to roll next time out.
Justin let Dame move out into a free-wheeling canter, keeping a light touch on the reins. The mahogany bay tossed her head in objection to the level of collection, but then gave in. Ripley had gotten along better with the Jessie James filly in the Veritas Stakes Race Two. However, Ripley also knew that the filly was Justin's horse for the taking come October. Dame was all Justin's horse. She liked him the best, let him pet her ears and licked his fingers even when he didn't have any treats for her. Justin ran his fingers through the wispy base of her mane. What a filly. She'd won with aplomb in her third race of the year. She would surely run well again in the third stakes of the Veritas series next week. Justin sighed. It was only a matter of time before her rode in a race. It would be the highlight of his short life by far.
Maggie could see Justin was caught up in his thoughts, but he needed to wake up. Both fillies needed to have a sturdy workout over the turf today. Their seasons were only going to get tougher from here. Both two and three year old divisions were extraordinarily tough. Dame and Wish had to be prepared to face the worst and come out on top. She pushed Wish over with her leg until she was side by side with Justin. Ripley wants a strong mile and a quarter gallop with a three furlong bullet. This will work for both of them. Wish has got to practice her mid pack run at the end of it. And Dame just needs a distance run to open her up. Justin cocked an eyebrow at Maggie. You don't have to explain it to me Maggot. You're the boss. Maggie eyed him. No I'm not. We're on an equal playing field Justin. It's good for you to learn. Justin cowed a little under her stern gaze and then looked over the turf fields.
Ready? Maggie said, unperturbed. Justin nodded and together the riders let the horses move into an energetic gallop. Wish lowered her body quite brilliantly to the ground beneath Maggie. The dramatically beautiful bay just had an innate capability of settling right into stride. She was a wonderful horse to work with, a saint of sorts. Maggie barely moved on the filly, didn't need to move on her just yet. Wish Upon A Star knew how to gallop. She just wasn't sure when it was the right time to pick up more speed and how to sustain that speed over a period of time. She was a few feet away from Dazzling Dame now. Dame was more dramatic when she ran. Her knees lifted high over the turf and she absolutely bounded along. She rocked from side when she ran and carried her head high. The Jessie James filly was an intimidating foe to have. Only a grade five race horse and yet so terrifyingly brilliant, Wish could learn a lot from the deadly filly. Wish kept one ear tuned to her workmate, as if sensing that Maggie wanted her to learn from the older foe.
Justin's face glowed in the bright summer light. He was excited to ride this horse, so thrilled. Dazzling Dame was a queen hidden away in the grade five ranks at the moment. But she would break out very soon. She'd stirred the pot a little in her first victory of the year, only the second of her career. Dame was finally getting the game now. She was ready to rock and roll. Justin barely moved as she lurched along, black mane flying backward and smacking him painfully in the face. She tossed her head for more rein, but he didn't relent. She wanted to gun it. All of her power was loaded in her back end, she pushed off in an attempt to show him who was boss. Justin wasn't impressed. He pulled her head to the right, pushing her with his right leg until she was pushed smack dab against Wish. The Everyday Hero filly flattened her ears and flashed her teeth. Dame squealed, but could do nothing in response, but run with her mate.
Maggie grinned broadly. The eighteen year old was tough and he was doing the right thing for both of their horses. Dame was a smallish filly, brute like in her body frame, but small. Wish was an elegant, willowy filly with an inner iron lady. She pushed heavily against Dazzling Dame, moving sideways with her. The pair moved across the track in an all out match of wills. Maggie could not help but grin. So there was a spirit inside this beautiful body. Wish was showing her more than she had expected in one workout. Maggie had thought it would be a process of getting the filly revved up, but maybe a little contact and tightness would spur the Everyday Hero filly on more. Maybe she was indeed a true mid-pack runner.
The fillies swept over the turf, over the hills, side by side, pushing one another mightily. It was going to be a tiring workout, but they both would easily handle it and learn from it. This was the toughener for them. Dazzling Dame and Wish Upon A Star matched each other beat for beat, not letting the other gain too much ground before closing the gap up again. The mile and a quarter was flying by in a rush of stormy speed. There was no doubt in the riders' minds that these two were going to eventually take the racing world by storm. Dame and Wish were locked in a battle of the minds and wills. Dame was a brutal filly and she knew exactly how to get Wish off stride with a shoulder or a haunch. Wish, however, would respond with a mighty push that nearly sent Dame to her face. Justin pulled his filly away from Wish. She didn't need to get hurt before the Veritas Stakes Race Three. Dame would be ready as ever for that race off this stiff gallop.
The mile and a quarter flew by and Maggie was ready to run. She nodded to Justin who simply let the reins fly through his hands. His dark bay filly lurched forward and sprinted with a powerful kick to a length and a half lead. Maggie grinned. So it was going to be like that was it? She went to her hands and legs on Wish suddenly. The bay pricked her ears up and then flattened them at the rapid driving. She took off instantly, body spreading over the turf like a massive greyhound. Dame was well within her sights and she wanted to bury her.
Together they threw down the gauntlet, eyes blazing and bodies pumping. There was no doubt that these two were tough as nails. They had to be when they were considered bottom of the heap. Maggie and Justin asked no more of them when the fillies were level with one another once again. They were doing enough work on their own. Their black tails and manes poured away from them and they looked glorious midrun. Dame and Wish snorted heavily through their wide nostrils. Oh this was everything they could have hoped for and more. They wanted speed, speed and more speed. The three furlongs was a speck in comparison to the length they truly wanted tor run. Both of them could handle twelve furlongs quite easily and they wanted that distance, but this was good enough.
Maggie and Justin pulled them down the second they crossed the three furlong mark. And neither filly rebelled. They knew their chance to run was coming, knew they had the opportunity to show off their true form and fitness. The riders grinned. A mighty wish would not provide them the satisfaction they needed. The fillies were wishes themselves, gifts from somewhere above. They were ready.
expert level
Courtesy of Event of The Year Photos.
Today marked the return of the beautiful brilliant Mastermind to Witch Creek Stable training. Ripley was barely holding herself together. Mastermind had been galloping one mile everyday in preparation for his return. He would finally make his first start back in the Kindergarten Stakes at Green Horse Fields. Ripley could not be any more excited. A lot of racing had taken place in his absence, though Witch Creek was performing quite well. They still missed the budding champion. The things that Mastermind did were too incredible for words. The way he won his races was nearly indescribable. He won explosively and impressively. Mastermind, the son of Speed Demon, was almost has impressive as his elder counterpart, Ashes to Ashes.
Brookson Wells was excited for his colt's future. Ashes to Ashes had won all five of his wins in Year Twelve and was considered to be the horse to watch in the future. Ashes to Ashes, by Crooked Fire and out of Witch Creek's very own Ashanti, was making great strides to become a top dirt three year old for Witch Creek Stables. He still had a way to go before he caught up with Euphoria's Warrior, winner of the Belmont Stakes. However, he would most likely be facing Silver Stride Stable's Instant Success, winner of the Preakness Stakes very soon. Ashes to Ashes would race in the Blue Stakes at Green Horse Fields June Week Four and if he performed like everyone knew the bounding colt could, he would be pointed for the Prince of Wales Stakes July Week Two.Brookson patted the colt's beautifully shaped face. The Crooked Fire son was destined for greatness and he would likely have a very exciting year of racing as a four year old for Witch Creek. His three year old season was just the beginning. This year was about giving him the foundation to deal with the top competitors, mainly Euphoria's Warrior and Instant Success, along with one of the tough three year old fillies. Brooks would give the colt all he needed for foundation and then they would be on expert level come next year.
The man and colt looked out onto the track where Ripley was jogging Mastermind over the dirt. The elegant chestnut colt had filled out nicely and would continue to build up in size as a three year old. He would face tough competition in his return and a lot of grade four contenders that had only been grade fives when he had gone on vacation. Mastermind was two wins away from being a grade three two year old, something that Ripley had managed to achieve with The Devil's Touch when she trained under the name Battle Brook. Mastermind had been a standout from the get-go and as he moved fluently over the track in summer sun, Brooks was sure he would run to the same expectations again in his return after two months vacation.
Brooks patted his excited mount. Ashes danced sideways anxiously. He wanted to be on the go, wanted to race his new workmate. Ever since Midnight Thriller had left, the powerful bay stallion had been searching for a constant workmate. He would get that in Mastermind. Mastermind was brilliant and Ashes to Ashes was on the same level. Brooks swung aboard Ashes and barely had been seated for a second when the three year old bolted in Mastermind's direction. Brooks was prepared for the colt's enthusiasm and managed to bring him to a prancing walk before he caused any damage. Ripley raised her eyebrows at him and Brooks shrugged. He's a wild one. What can I say?
Ripley snorted and stroked Mastermind's neck. The chestnut colt let out a relaxed breath, lifted his head and gazed around the track as though he were king. Ashes stomped and looked in the same direction as his younger counterpart, not to be outdone. Ripley couldn't hold back her grin. El Sol del Mar's first son was something else. He was brilliant and charming and full of ego. However much the colt liked to pretend he wasn't a fan of Ripley, the trainer knew it was a ruse. The colt loved when she rode him and she could tell he missed their partnership in the races. They would get that back in two weeks come June Week Four in the Kindergarten Stakes. These two weeks couldn't pass by quick enough. With only one horse running in June Week Three there was not much of distraction to hold Ripley to the ground.
The riders urged their horses into an easy loping canter. Ashes and Mastermind maintained an easy pace, eying one another and relishing in their careless speed. The pair could so easily move into a quicker stride if they wished to, but they were relaxed. Ripley was glowing when she rediscovered Mastermind's powerful stride hadn't vanished. He was an easygoing horse to ride for all of his ill-manners on the ground. Ashes and Mastermind just cruised over the dirt, strides matched almost evenly. Ash was a thunderous horse to ride alongside. He was loud, snorting with drums for hoof beats. He drew attention instantly by his noise. Mastermind was quiet as a deer with a lean greyhound figure and gangly legs. He was alert in his movements, ears flicking back and forth to listen to Ripley and then to Brookson. His eyes were bright and eager and oh, he so wanted to run.
Brooks grinned over at Ripley. His girlfriend was having the time of her life these days. Her horses were a commanding presence on the track and her barn was rising in the standings due to their overall strength. He knew she had missed racing Mastermind in the Follow The Hoofprints Series at The Wire. She loved any opportunity to show her star colt off. He too loved showing off Ashes to Ashes. He patted the brawny colt's solid neck. The horse grunted in response and ducked his head, always the bashful one. Ashes loved any sort of attention that suited his powerful frame. Baby talk and soft strokes did not cut it for him. That's why Maggie wasn't as big a fan of the horse. She loved to baby talk. Brooks loved to give respect to his mounts.
June Week Four is going to be a solid week for us Ripley Marsh. Can't you feel it? Ripley nodded in agreement. Oh yes, definitely. Especially with Lulu and Mastermind back in the line up. Ashes may have his hooves full or fuller with Devil's Crusade from Prison Hill Stables, but he can handle it. He'll lead the way, though I'm sure someone else will enter. Ashes is good at settling under pressure. He'll be ready for the Blue Stakes off of this workout. Brooks nearly laughed at how identical her thoughts were to his. And Mastermind should do okay... Ripley sent him a scoff and coincidentally Mastermind snorted at the same time. Brooks' face parted into a huge grin. Okay... better than okay. Brookson Wells get your head screwed on straight. Mastermind is waiting to explode. He'll run huge off of his layoff. He'll have someone to chase and someone to hold off in the homestretch. No doubt about it. Mastermind will do more than okay.
Brooks shrugged even though he knew it was true. Ripley never kidded around. The woman let Mastermind out a little, reveling in the colt's instant stretch out response. His tongue flopped along with his stride and he was brilliantly smooth. It wasn't exactly like rolling on a cloud because that cloud would have to emphasize the fact that there was a storm brewing inside. Mastermind was a storm. Ripley leaned closer to his neck, moving her hands close. She glanced to the side, looking at Brooks. Brooks was leaned forward as well atop Ashes to Ashes. His thunderous colt galloped hungrily alongside Mastermind. His ear was glued Mastermind, it's dark tip belying his interest in his partner. He sensed a competition brewing.
Mastermind was a miler who could carry his speed to nine furlongs. He was a proud equine with a bright future. A bright horse on every day he raced. Ripley let him roll along, calling out to Brooks: Mile gallop with a six furlong sharpener should do the trick. The man nodded and let Ashes out another notch. If Ripley wanted a shorter distance it meant that her horses were getting lazy and needed to be woken up. Ashes had indeed gotten a little lazy in the last two weeks so a speed workout would more than do it for him.
The horses bounded powerfully into the backstretch, muscles stretching and awakening beneath their riders. Mastermind and Ashes kept side by side. In a race Mastermind would stalk, but in a workout, he usually kept within a length of his workmate. A workout was different from a race and Mastermind knew it. Ripley did not move a muscle on her copper colt, letting him do his own thing. Ashes to Ashes was moving just as confidently with Brooks humming a country tune to him. The bay colt knew his music so far be it from Ripley to criticize.
Their hooves beat rhythmically into the surface beneath, dust flinging up behind them in a whirling cloud. They leaped like gazelles, eyes focused and eager to continue on in this constant, but not urgent run. The air whooshed through their widening nostrils and made them all the more eager. It played with their manes and forelocks and caused them to become more forward on the bit. The horses pulled and the riders let them out a centimeter. Immediately they took advantage of the new rein and soon were pulling again. Their competitive fires were burning. She'd missed Mastermind so much in the last two months. It was like coming home. Ripley whispered a few nonsense words and Mastermind suddenly slowed, losing interest in being burnt out with Ashes to Ashes.
Ashes cruised on ahead, ear flicking back when Mastermind suddenly dropped his left side haunch. He was surprised to say the least, but slight urging from Brooks kept him to his task. Ash had a longer race in the June Week 4 in the Blue Stakes. He had to run to his full capabilities and not relax in doing so. His previous workouts and two mile gallops every day had given him a stamina foundation. The colt welcome the task to keep to his constant, high cruising pace. Mastermind's eyes flickered cunningly as they entered the homestretch. He was back!
There was a tension in the chestnut's frame that stated the colt was just waiting for Ripley to let him go. However, he stayed confined, annoyed, but content to appear relaxed, racing just off of Ashes to Ashes. The chestnut was thinking, always thinking and plotting. Ripley loved her mount for his intelligence and prayed that the six furlongs would come quickly. Brooks glanced under his arm, saw Mastermind easily bounding along. The chestnut thought he would have an easy time with Ash in the workout portion of today's exercise. However, Mastermind hadn't seen Ashes performances. The bay was brilliant, more brilliant than any horse Mastermind had been challenged by.
The pair whipped through the homestretch and once again in the backstretch. The storm was brewing within the two colts and within their riders as well. Ripley and Brooks were hardly breathing for all the excitement and the wind stole whatever breath they did happen to let out of their mouths. There came a time when the horses would have to lay it all on the line when they met their biggest challenger. Neither of the colts had experienced that moment and it was time they had a taste of it.
Ashes to Ashes was the first to leap into action the second they passed the one furlong marker in the backstretch. He exploded away, showing off his impressive turn of foot to instantly gain two lengths on Mastermind. Brooks was impressed and boldly patted his mounts neck, once again taking him under wraps. Ashes ran with such an intensity that it was impressive when Brooks could calm him enough to almost behave like a preceder. The Crooked Fire colt slowed though to his high cruising race speed and waited for Mastermind's rebuttal which came sooner than either of them had expected.
Ripley was not interested in cat and mouse games today. She wanted a stern run for both horses. Mastermind needed it and Ashes needed it. She had cranked her chestnut instantly to Ashes outside, unbeknownst to Brooks and gave him some rein to work with. Mastermind had felt the give and had dramatically responded to make up those two lengths and then some. He was pouring it on along Ashes outside now, running faster than he had in the last two months and relishing in it. He was nose and nose with the older colt and Brooks turned his head to look at Ripley. When she met him with fiery eyes, Brooks knew it was on. He let out some more rein on his horse and got a response as well, only this time he could not shake Mastermind.
The horses were sprinting up the track, tails whipping out behind them, legs becoming darkened blurs. They picked up unimaginable speeds as they smashed the training records held on the Witch Creek track. Both of them were brilliant and hyped up on their power. The pair flew over the track and it seemed now as if they weren't even touching the ground. Mastermind and Ashes to Ashes weren't even giving it their all just yet and both of them had receives created for just this purpose. If they ever met a challenger who had a similar high cruising brilliance, both horses would have enough stamina to wear them down and run on for the win. Ripley and Brooks were still as stones, as unimportant to the horses as the pebbles they ran over.
All that mattered was that they show their dominance to each other. And for once Ripley was content to see some male ego brawling about. It was over her track that Ashes to Ashes and Mastermind flaunted their stuff. The racing world wouldn't know what they had missed in Mastermind for the last two months, but it would know what it was about to experience in the near future. Ashes to Ashes tucked his head low and pushed onward, still trying to get the better of his workmate and he probably would have, but the wire passed and Ashes had to settle for a nose victory. A step after the wire and Mastermind was dead even once again.
When they raced all out, Mastermind and Ashes to Ashes were both beyond words. It was only when they were together that they seemed less than what they were going to be: Future Champions. But that was simply because they were each others greatest competition. Chills ran down both Ripley and Brooksons' spines as the realization dawned on them as they rode off of the track back towards the stable.
Brookson Wells was excited for his colt's future. Ashes to Ashes had won all five of his wins in Year Twelve and was considered to be the horse to watch in the future. Ashes to Ashes, by Crooked Fire and out of Witch Creek's very own Ashanti, was making great strides to become a top dirt three year old for Witch Creek Stables. He still had a way to go before he caught up with Euphoria's Warrior, winner of the Belmont Stakes. However, he would most likely be facing Silver Stride Stable's Instant Success, winner of the Preakness Stakes very soon. Ashes to Ashes would race in the Blue Stakes at Green Horse Fields June Week Four and if he performed like everyone knew the bounding colt could, he would be pointed for the Prince of Wales Stakes July Week Two.Brookson patted the colt's beautifully shaped face. The Crooked Fire son was destined for greatness and he would likely have a very exciting year of racing as a four year old for Witch Creek. His three year old season was just the beginning. This year was about giving him the foundation to deal with the top competitors, mainly Euphoria's Warrior and Instant Success, along with one of the tough three year old fillies. Brooks would give the colt all he needed for foundation and then they would be on expert level come next year.
The man and colt looked out onto the track where Ripley was jogging Mastermind over the dirt. The elegant chestnut colt had filled out nicely and would continue to build up in size as a three year old. He would face tough competition in his return and a lot of grade four contenders that had only been grade fives when he had gone on vacation. Mastermind was two wins away from being a grade three two year old, something that Ripley had managed to achieve with The Devil's Touch when she trained under the name Battle Brook. Mastermind had been a standout from the get-go and as he moved fluently over the track in summer sun, Brooks was sure he would run to the same expectations again in his return after two months vacation.
Brooks patted his excited mount. Ashes danced sideways anxiously. He wanted to be on the go, wanted to race his new workmate. Ever since Midnight Thriller had left, the powerful bay stallion had been searching for a constant workmate. He would get that in Mastermind. Mastermind was brilliant and Ashes to Ashes was on the same level. Brooks swung aboard Ashes and barely had been seated for a second when the three year old bolted in Mastermind's direction. Brooks was prepared for the colt's enthusiasm and managed to bring him to a prancing walk before he caused any damage. Ripley raised her eyebrows at him and Brooks shrugged. He's a wild one. What can I say?
Ripley snorted and stroked Mastermind's neck. The chestnut colt let out a relaxed breath, lifted his head and gazed around the track as though he were king. Ashes stomped and looked in the same direction as his younger counterpart, not to be outdone. Ripley couldn't hold back her grin. El Sol del Mar's first son was something else. He was brilliant and charming and full of ego. However much the colt liked to pretend he wasn't a fan of Ripley, the trainer knew it was a ruse. The colt loved when she rode him and she could tell he missed their partnership in the races. They would get that back in two weeks come June Week Four in the Kindergarten Stakes. These two weeks couldn't pass by quick enough. With only one horse running in June Week Three there was not much of distraction to hold Ripley to the ground.
The riders urged their horses into an easy loping canter. Ashes and Mastermind maintained an easy pace, eying one another and relishing in their careless speed. The pair could so easily move into a quicker stride if they wished to, but they were relaxed. Ripley was glowing when she rediscovered Mastermind's powerful stride hadn't vanished. He was an easygoing horse to ride for all of his ill-manners on the ground. Ashes and Mastermind just cruised over the dirt, strides matched almost evenly. Ash was a thunderous horse to ride alongside. He was loud, snorting with drums for hoof beats. He drew attention instantly by his noise. Mastermind was quiet as a deer with a lean greyhound figure and gangly legs. He was alert in his movements, ears flicking back and forth to listen to Ripley and then to Brookson. His eyes were bright and eager and oh, he so wanted to run.
Brooks grinned over at Ripley. His girlfriend was having the time of her life these days. Her horses were a commanding presence on the track and her barn was rising in the standings due to their overall strength. He knew she had missed racing Mastermind in the Follow The Hoofprints Series at The Wire. She loved any opportunity to show her star colt off. He too loved showing off Ashes to Ashes. He patted the brawny colt's solid neck. The horse grunted in response and ducked his head, always the bashful one. Ashes loved any sort of attention that suited his powerful frame. Baby talk and soft strokes did not cut it for him. That's why Maggie wasn't as big a fan of the horse. She loved to baby talk. Brooks loved to give respect to his mounts.
June Week Four is going to be a solid week for us Ripley Marsh. Can't you feel it? Ripley nodded in agreement. Oh yes, definitely. Especially with Lulu and Mastermind back in the line up. Ashes may have his hooves full or fuller with Devil's Crusade from Prison Hill Stables, but he can handle it. He'll lead the way, though I'm sure someone else will enter. Ashes is good at settling under pressure. He'll be ready for the Blue Stakes off of this workout. Brooks nearly laughed at how identical her thoughts were to his. And Mastermind should do okay... Ripley sent him a scoff and coincidentally Mastermind snorted at the same time. Brooks' face parted into a huge grin. Okay... better than okay. Brookson Wells get your head screwed on straight. Mastermind is waiting to explode. He'll run huge off of his layoff. He'll have someone to chase and someone to hold off in the homestretch. No doubt about it. Mastermind will do more than okay.
Brooks shrugged even though he knew it was true. Ripley never kidded around. The woman let Mastermind out a little, reveling in the colt's instant stretch out response. His tongue flopped along with his stride and he was brilliantly smooth. It wasn't exactly like rolling on a cloud because that cloud would have to emphasize the fact that there was a storm brewing inside. Mastermind was a storm. Ripley leaned closer to his neck, moving her hands close. She glanced to the side, looking at Brooks. Brooks was leaned forward as well atop Ashes to Ashes. His thunderous colt galloped hungrily alongside Mastermind. His ear was glued Mastermind, it's dark tip belying his interest in his partner. He sensed a competition brewing.
Mastermind was a miler who could carry his speed to nine furlongs. He was a proud equine with a bright future. A bright horse on every day he raced. Ripley let him roll along, calling out to Brooks: Mile gallop with a six furlong sharpener should do the trick. The man nodded and let Ashes out another notch. If Ripley wanted a shorter distance it meant that her horses were getting lazy and needed to be woken up. Ashes had indeed gotten a little lazy in the last two weeks so a speed workout would more than do it for him.
The horses bounded powerfully into the backstretch, muscles stretching and awakening beneath their riders. Mastermind and Ashes kept side by side. In a race Mastermind would stalk, but in a workout, he usually kept within a length of his workmate. A workout was different from a race and Mastermind knew it. Ripley did not move a muscle on her copper colt, letting him do his own thing. Ashes to Ashes was moving just as confidently with Brooks humming a country tune to him. The bay colt knew his music so far be it from Ripley to criticize.
Their hooves beat rhythmically into the surface beneath, dust flinging up behind them in a whirling cloud. They leaped like gazelles, eyes focused and eager to continue on in this constant, but not urgent run. The air whooshed through their widening nostrils and made them all the more eager. It played with their manes and forelocks and caused them to become more forward on the bit. The horses pulled and the riders let them out a centimeter. Immediately they took advantage of the new rein and soon were pulling again. Their competitive fires were burning. She'd missed Mastermind so much in the last two months. It was like coming home. Ripley whispered a few nonsense words and Mastermind suddenly slowed, losing interest in being burnt out with Ashes to Ashes.
Ashes cruised on ahead, ear flicking back when Mastermind suddenly dropped his left side haunch. He was surprised to say the least, but slight urging from Brooks kept him to his task. Ash had a longer race in the June Week 4 in the Blue Stakes. He had to run to his full capabilities and not relax in doing so. His previous workouts and two mile gallops every day had given him a stamina foundation. The colt welcome the task to keep to his constant, high cruising pace. Mastermind's eyes flickered cunningly as they entered the homestretch. He was back!
There was a tension in the chestnut's frame that stated the colt was just waiting for Ripley to let him go. However, he stayed confined, annoyed, but content to appear relaxed, racing just off of Ashes to Ashes. The chestnut was thinking, always thinking and plotting. Ripley loved her mount for his intelligence and prayed that the six furlongs would come quickly. Brooks glanced under his arm, saw Mastermind easily bounding along. The chestnut thought he would have an easy time with Ash in the workout portion of today's exercise. However, Mastermind hadn't seen Ashes performances. The bay was brilliant, more brilliant than any horse Mastermind had been challenged by.
The pair whipped through the homestretch and once again in the backstretch. The storm was brewing within the two colts and within their riders as well. Ripley and Brooks were hardly breathing for all the excitement and the wind stole whatever breath they did happen to let out of their mouths. There came a time when the horses would have to lay it all on the line when they met their biggest challenger. Neither of the colts had experienced that moment and it was time they had a taste of it.
Ashes to Ashes was the first to leap into action the second they passed the one furlong marker in the backstretch. He exploded away, showing off his impressive turn of foot to instantly gain two lengths on Mastermind. Brooks was impressed and boldly patted his mounts neck, once again taking him under wraps. Ashes ran with such an intensity that it was impressive when Brooks could calm him enough to almost behave like a preceder. The Crooked Fire colt slowed though to his high cruising race speed and waited for Mastermind's rebuttal which came sooner than either of them had expected.
Ripley was not interested in cat and mouse games today. She wanted a stern run for both horses. Mastermind needed it and Ashes needed it. She had cranked her chestnut instantly to Ashes outside, unbeknownst to Brooks and gave him some rein to work with. Mastermind had felt the give and had dramatically responded to make up those two lengths and then some. He was pouring it on along Ashes outside now, running faster than he had in the last two months and relishing in it. He was nose and nose with the older colt and Brooks turned his head to look at Ripley. When she met him with fiery eyes, Brooks knew it was on. He let out some more rein on his horse and got a response as well, only this time he could not shake Mastermind.
The horses were sprinting up the track, tails whipping out behind them, legs becoming darkened blurs. They picked up unimaginable speeds as they smashed the training records held on the Witch Creek track. Both of them were brilliant and hyped up on their power. The pair flew over the track and it seemed now as if they weren't even touching the ground. Mastermind and Ashes to Ashes weren't even giving it their all just yet and both of them had receives created for just this purpose. If they ever met a challenger who had a similar high cruising brilliance, both horses would have enough stamina to wear them down and run on for the win. Ripley and Brooks were still as stones, as unimportant to the horses as the pebbles they ran over.
All that mattered was that they show their dominance to each other. And for once Ripley was content to see some male ego brawling about. It was over her track that Ashes to Ashes and Mastermind flaunted their stuff. The racing world wouldn't know what they had missed in Mastermind for the last two months, but it would know what it was about to experience in the near future. Ashes to Ashes tucked his head low and pushed onward, still trying to get the better of his workmate and he probably would have, but the wire passed and Ashes had to settle for a nose victory. A step after the wire and Mastermind was dead even once again.
When they raced all out, Mastermind and Ashes to Ashes were both beyond words. It was only when they were together that they seemed less than what they were going to be: Future Champions. But that was simply because they were each others greatest competition. Chills ran down both Ripley and Brooksons' spines as the realization dawned on them as they rode off of the track back towards the stable.