"Guess we have to breeze this devil sometime," Brooks stated from Ripley's side. The blond man grinned at the contemptuous look from his girlfriend. Ripley didn't like when he spoke of Note because nothing he ever said about the colt was good. The bay horse was simply a problem child. He had too much attitude and tended to be a pain whenever it came to anything about anything. Brooks didn't understand where he'd come by the nasty personality either. Glorious Storm, his dam, had been a sweetheart with feisty tendencies. Like A Cheetah had been spooky, but definitely not mean. Note just simply wasn't nice and Brooks had good reason to dislike him. The youngster had launched himself at Brooks the second he got off the trailer. Brooks could still remember the horse crashing into him. Only Mal's quick reflexes had prevented the horse from trampling Brooks to death. As such, Brooks had given up his designated yearling to David Carter. He intended to live until his baby was born. "Good luck," Brooks stated to Carter, slapping him on the back. The guy flashed Brooks a glance, but it was unclear what emotion was behind that gaze. Carter usually kept his thoughts to himself and held his cards close to his chest. It made him a good rider for In Front and for this colt. Note wouldn't be able to get the man riled up and would actually be able to run. David tightened his gloves, casting a glance over Note. The unmarked bay stared at him with intelligent eyes, his small ears focused on the man. Note's elegant head was turned sideways, assessing David as he assessed every situation. Note was not stupid. He had a brain and David looked forward to getting to know the speedy son of Like A Cheetah. His siblings, Acantha and Like A Lioness, had proven very fast and precocious and exciting prospects. From the looks of him, the same would be said of note. Carter shrugged his protective vest on, stepped up to Note's side. The colt turned his head, crinkling his soft skin, and bumped his nose to David's shoulder. David smirked, patted the horse's nose before Mal boosted him up. "I think you have his blessing," Mal laughed. The big Irishman led the way from the barn, careful to keep a light hand on the reins. He'd put the horse through a fierce boot camp upon arrival, not needing a dangerous stud around the place. Even Touch Up, the most wild animal, behaved better than the yearling had. Mal didn't trust him, but when the colt's ears pricked up at the sight of the fields and racetrack, the man relaxed slightly. No, Note wasn't stupid and he wore his intentions right on his face. It was lucky for them because a nasty, unpredictable horse would have had them all in trouble. David was surprised by the horse beneath him. Note was a slim looking animal from the ground, but riding him was a completely different thing. The animal moved with a stalking stride and his body seemed to contained a wiry power. There was no doubt this horse would be a speedy creature when given his head. Note did not prance or dance. He moved with an easy grace and a confidence that David hadn't been expecting. Note let out a whistle as he reached the dirt track, his nostrils flaring and his head darting side to side as he looked for other horses. "Not today, mate," Mal chided, unclipping the lead rope and stepping away. The horse blew through his nostrils, lifting his tail in absolute excitement. "Just gallop and turn him loose down the homestretch, Carter." David nodded, lowered the reins and stood in the stirrups. The bay flitted away, dipping his head in a movement so regal, David nearly requested a picture. Note's steps were cat like, soft and soundless over the sand. This wouldn't be his best surface, but his class, for he did have class, seemed to carry him over the sandy soil. David patted the colt's neck as he stepped into a long floating gallop. David whistled, causing the colt to spook briefly. He snorted again, but he settled down quickly, especially when David called for more speed. The wind blew the colt's mane back into David's face as he zipped into the backstretch. His strength was palpable and slightly surprising as he tore over the track. He really had a high cruising speed to him and he felt like it. Most horses you couldn't tell, but this colt was a whirlwind of energy and speed. David wrapped his hands in flying mane, thanking his brain for suggesting goggles against what would have been a biting wind. Mal and Brooks watched in surprise as the colt clipped off solid twelves for the first six furlongs. He was an impressive animal to watch because he got so low to the ground. He looked fast as a cheetah, his big chest leading the way and David lost on his back. Ripley was counting off the time in her head, her eyes a lit with excitement as the bay roared through the turn and into the stretch. David wanted to shout in his excitement as the colt skipped into high gear. This was a tornado of horse, his legs blurring beneath him as he dashed up the track. Yet, he felt as if he could go forever. David barely moved as the colt ran at an impressive pace. He didn't need encouragement. He felt as though he could go around again. As the colt breezed through the wire, Ripley released her breath. "Know who he reminds me of?" Brooks glanced at the woman. "Freeze." Her face broke into a wide grin. "There's our shot in the arm boys."
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Snowflakes drifted down from the sky in careless, spirited motion, dotting out the color of the world and turning everything brown or white. Horses in the pasture ran around, tails lifted, nostrils flaring as they snorted excitedly. The winter had been tough so far with storms every week, restricting training to the indoor synthetic. Ripley had grown a bit testy at that, but the horses were in fine fettle and the snow made them work hard out in the pasture. The juveniles were benefiting the most from the relaxed period as they were allowed to grow into their forms and become the fierce chargers that they were meant to be. Two of those changeling horses stood before her at the gap of the dirt track. One glistened like ruby, looked like the odd narrow horse that seemed to be the image of racehorses of old. The other looked the spitting image of the modern horse, thick with muscle, fierce of eye and heart. Spotlight Pride and Casualty of War looked every inch the promising horses that they had turned into. Both were sitting on the edge of grade three. One had found his calling at a mile or less over the turf tracks, the other had once been thought of as the turf king, but instead appeared to roll on the dirt. Ripley appreciated them both for who they were and was excited for what they would become. Spotlight Pride mouthed the bit, ears pricked down the track. Sultan pawed the earth, muscles roiling beneath his dappled out dark chocolate hide. The colts used to hate each other; Sultan had been a fierce bully to Pride. Now Pride stood ignoring his old attacker, his twitching skin the only hint that Sultan bothered him a little. The tough Man O' War colt was relentless in his stony gaze, but a clap of Ripley's hands drew everyone's attention to her. The auburn haired miss was cloaked in a thick black wool jacket, her hair plaited down her back. "Take it easy today. Mal said the track was getting a little slick out there during the two year old gallops. I want a four furlong gallop followed by a four furlong breeze. Breeze!" Reese cocked a brow, winged a look at Justin. "As long as his colt doesn't press the issue, we will be just fine." Justin shrugged, would have played back if Ripley hadn't kept a level look on him until he nodded. "Yeah, breeze will be easy." "It better be," Ripley stated as she walked to the rail and took up her customary spot beside Brooks. The blonde didn't touch her, sensing the electricity in the mother to be. She was always a little more tense right before the Breeders' Cup and the new year. Anything that happened now would impact the goals in early spring, particularly for Casualty of War. The riders broke off at a trot, but moving into a lope past the wire. Pride bowed his neck, still mouthing the bit as though he wanted to do more. The flecks of snow forced the riders to pull down their goggles. Its fierce bite undid the romantic look quite quickly. Justin kept his hands at Sultan's neck, appreciating the long striding colt. Casualty of War was turning into something quite special. The dappled out colt had a confident air to him and he never seemed to be trying too hard. Justin liked his effortless movement and thought this could be the horse to watch out of the Y12 crop. Where Casualty of War was the picture of calm, Pride was the picture of energy. He ran with his head high now and his tail lifted, his nostrils flaring to the size of tea saucers. He remembered his battles with Casualty of War, their rivalry second to none within the WCS ranks. Reese was strict on letting out the rein, not wanting her Breeders' Cup Juvenile Turf mount to blow it. In this way, the brilliant chestnut had been slow to mature. He was absolutely show stopping in full flight, running his other front running opponents into the ground, but he never seemed to be able to hold off the closers at the end of 9 furlongs or more. It was time to change that. The chestnut and dark bay galloped powerfully down the stretch, Pride maintaining his lead, although he had settled down now. Casualty of War kept close tabs on his rival, ears sliding back into his mane when the chestnut threatened to lean on him. Justin kept Sultan straight, daring Pride to move out. Pride's flighty nature needed some schooling and Sultan would be just the horse to be the teacher. Reese, however, was not looking to cause her horse his confidence. Just the fact that he wasn't intimidated by the larger two year old impressed her considerably. He'd gone from fearful peasant to noble prince. She egged him on slightly, putting another half length between her fireball and the shadow. Casualty of War's hooves thundered over the hardening ground, breaking rhythm once when Justin chided him. Pride's ears shot back up as he galloped strongly into the far turn and lit for home. Brooks clicked the stopwatch then, eyes glowing as Pride appeared to dominate the set. Reese wasn't moving and the chestnut horse was flying. Casualty of War moved with him, but was carried by centrifugal force to the three path. Ripley kept her eyes on him as Pride put another length and a half between them with relative ease. Justin urged Sultan to keep up, clucking and nudging him with his boots. The big colt looked ferocious as he gathered himself. In an impressive demonstration of strength of will, Sultan dashed aside Pride's lead and was at his throat halfway down the stretch. The pair surged to the wire, breaking Ripley's rules of easy, but she cared little. They were straight and strong and away from the more slippery turns. Pride was practically flat to the ground as Casualty of War bore down on him. The fierceness of the smaller horse's fight was thrilling to both rider and trainers. Casualty of War's ease of movement was chilling. Both of them looked stupendous as they galloped through the line and back into the first turn, pulling up on command. "Now tell me Pride won't get that nine furlongs in the Breeders' Cup Juvenile," Ripley dared, clapping her hands. "Tell me Brooks! If we school him right, he's as dangerous as the next animal." Instead, Brooks picked Ripley up and swung her in a circle. "They'll both get nine furlongs and beyond. And we'll be ready for Year Fifteen with our cavalry charge of colts!" Laura and Brooks watched as Spotlight Pride and Casualty of War marched off the tracks. The chestnut and dark colts reared and bucked, looking as though they could go another round. Sultan looked furious enough to knock Pride down where he stood. The hulking two year old was becoming a handful and when he was pissed, very much hard to handle. Justin kept the colt in line as they passed through the gap by Sun King and Optimus. Sun King pawed the ground, flexed his neck muscles and bugled his irritation at Sultan and Pride. Pride danced away nervously, uneasy now that his second foalhood bully was so close. Optimus remained the electric bulwark between the trio, his eyes rolling with excitement and confusion. Laura felt like she was on top of a bulldog. Optimus' muscles coiled beneath her and threatened to punch in rebellion as King was forced into a trot onto the track. He was a hard to handle type and his ego was riding high after his latest impressive victory. He'd been a spring in his workout before that race, but today he felt like a rocket. If anything, Optimus was only getting stronger and with Mastermind and Forbidden To Fly retiring, he would be ready to step into the elite ranks of male sprinters. Sun King strutted onto the track, head high and tail waving like a bloody flag. He was ever the arrogant son of a gun and he knew that his prowess was unmatched. He had has much brawn as Casualty of War, but the intelligence was more quick and clever. King snorted furiously when Brooks turned him to face Ripley at the rail. The woman nodded in approval, set her hands on the rail. "Time to let him get his irritation out." Optimus slid onto the track, legs always seeming to be ahead of his compact frame. His ears pricked down the track, taking in its overwhelming emptiness. The bay son of Shiver Me Timbers looked tough beneath Laura with his muscles tense beneath his healthy hide. Laura patted the colt's neck, careful to keep it gentle enough so that he did not take it as a cue to run. When he didn't budge, Laura turned her attention to Ripley. "Three furlongs, do the quickest running in the stretch. Shouldn't be too tough for them. Just watch them on the turn. I don't want to see them injured. We know they can run fast." The riders nodded and turned their horses down the track. Neither colt had to be told twice to go for the instant moving air hit in the face, they were off. Optimus out-footed Sun King at first, his dark eyes blazing with wild excitement. Laura felt her breath catch in her lungs at the violent burst of speed. Optimus didn't get nearly enough respect for his speed or brilliance. The bay colt had taken advantage of the speed crashing and burning in the first leg of the Dirt Sprinter Crown. It hadn't been that he was just bloody faster than everyone else, had it? Laura had her own theories and they placed Optimus higher than other sprinters. He hadn't been as mature then, but he sure as hell was now. King galloped along beside Optimus, ears pricked in surprise. It was rare that he was ever second on the break, but his large stride easily caught him up to the bay colt. The chestnut horse rolled over the ground, a powerhouse beneath his silent rider. Brooks appreciated the impressiveness of the young animal. He'd grown incredibly over the course of his two year old season. He seemed more physically advanced and confident. There was just something special to this particular creature. He had the gifts of El Sol Del Mar's early speed with both of his parent's ability to carry it farther than most. The pair of horses strode through the backstretch at an impressive clip. Ripley was surprised to find that they moved in tandem for she'd expected Optimus to linger back. There was no speed to challenge King though and loose speed was deadly. Laura must have changed tactics. The bay colt bounded along, clipping off fractions with ease and confidence despite the heavy pressure to his outside. Laura had to admit she was content with Optimus tonight. He was just an awesome horse. He was the type that could brutalize you on the front end or run you down in the stretch. Today, he would keep pace with a horse that few had managed to beat this season. Sun King could have cared less what kind of horse ran to his inside. He knew he could beat them. He had the confidence of a proven winner. It made him dangerous. But Optimus was dangerous at the moment as well. The bay colt bounded through the turn, ears pinning back in absolute focus. Laura shook him up off the turn and into the stretch, grinning from ear to ear as the colt roared to life. She leaned into his neck, hiding from the whipping wind and the cold snow. Snow battered the colt's chest as he covered the distance with lengthening strides. Sun King ranged up to Optimus' outside, neck bowed tight at the restraint. He floated to the middle of the track, legs pumping mightily beneath his powerful frame. Brooks' hands shook from the effort. He cursed and let the horse go. In a flurry of movement, the big horse gunned by Optimus, throwing his rival off. The stout bay colt responded with a furious rally, stretching his legs as far as possible. He would never be able to match the ease of King, but he sure as hell could match him in speed. Laura clung to the wild black mane as the colt whistled up the rail to battle head to head with Sun King. The two year old looked surprised, but did not give up as he found himself in a war. Ripley was grinning as the colts hit the wire together, their hoofbeats keeping time with their snorting. Battle tested and battle proven were those two horses. She was delighted to see some honest quality moving up to the fill the ranks. Damn good quality. Maggie sighed as she tightened the laces to her boots, her blue eyes dim with thought. It'd been a long morning galloping horses and now she was supposed to be ready to work with a yearling. She could hardly wait for the new year to come because after the first two weeks, she'd get a week and a half vacation in Europe. Every rider would be in and out of the U.S. for the first couple months, taking advantage of the staggered early season. Witch Creek's juveniles and upcoming horses would be making the most frequent starts during the first three weeks giving the jockeys a chance to relax for the first time in a year. Ripley would have scheduled time off as well, but the woman simply would just not take a vacation. Her heart and soul was too wrapped up into the place, but at least she would have more downtime. She wouldn't have to maintain weight or physical form because of the baby. Maggie thought Ripley was rather lucky to avoid the fight as her metabolism slowed down and she entered motherhood. Maggie would love kids in the future, but she enjoyed racing far too much to entertain thoughts of retirement. Plus... she had a quartet of intriguing horses for Year Fourteen. She would be looking for her next Paranormal Hunter and she might just have it in the form of another grumpy filly. Maggie smirked, Lord knew there was plenty of irritable estrogen to go around at Witch Creek. The blonde looked up as Malcolm walked into barn with Artemis' Glory. The blaze faced filly pricked her ears up as Maggie stood, eyes blazing with irritation. She'd clearly enjoyed her grooming session with Mal... not. Artemis was a prickly little thing. Flashy as all get out with her chrome face and tall black stockings, the little bay looked sweeter than she actually was. Maggie liked the fire that gleamed in her eyes and the promise of muscle and toughness. Artemis was the kind of filly that Maggie would look twice at. She just had that little bit of spark that reminded Maggie so much of Finale Slew. The grade one mare had thrown a winner in her last breeding to Positively Precious. Artemis snorted as Maggie approached and reached into her pocket for a treat. The gleaming bay eyed it suspiciously, but carefully took the treat as though she wasn't quite sure if it was poisoned. Maggie laughed, turned her gaze to Mal. "Feisty isn't she?" "She's something... She takes forever to clean up. She found the one unfrozen puddle and doused herself. Brianne and Michelle were not pleased to be pulled off of stalls to clean her up." Maggie grinned, patted the filly. "You little troublemaker." Artemis leaned into the pressure, turning her suspicious gaze to Mal now that she had an ally. Mal's lips twitched, "Hey! I wasn't the one who cleaned you. You know you like me." Artemis' eyes rolled white as though she didn't care to remember the reasons why she liked the man. He shook his head, stuck his tongue out drawing a surprised look from Maggie. "I might have an affection for this filly... More than the others." Maggie patted his arm after clicking her helmet strap together. "Don't worry. I won't tell Adele." He chuckled as he boosted the blonde into the saddle. Appreciating the non-effort it took for the much smaller filly. Artemis was a tiny tyke compared to the other horses in her crop. At 15.3, she was the smallest horse Mal had dealt with in a long time. Small didn't mean any less tough. She'd left him covered in bruises more than Lady and Ennie combined. They'd gradually come to an agreement once he'd accepted her quirks and she, his busy body commands. Ripley was waiting down by the rail for them and she smiled at the trio. Artemis was so different from the rest of Witch Creek's stock in terms of body type. She was lithe and aerodynamic, pretty with a filly's face. She was as far different from Nirvana and Hourglass as it got. She reminded Ripley of Taboo with that fragile delicacy, but her mental maturity was farther than the gray's had been at this time. Artemis flicked her tail irritably when Mal gave her butt a pat as she passed by onto the dirt track. "I knew I liked her, but I didn't realize how much until she came down from the barn." Ripley said, smiling as Maggie nudged the filly into a trot. "I loved Ares and Aphrodite's Chant and both will make me look like a genius down the line... but I couldn't get rid of Artemis. Out of the three, she's the one I most adored." "She's a speedy little thing," Mal mused. "She'll be quicker than most sprinters because she doesn't have as much of a frame to grow into." "That's for sure." Maggie was chuckling to herself as the filly moved into a smooth hand gallop. It felt like there was nothing beneath her. Para and Josey were both coltish fillies with big bodies and thick muscles. Artemis was the opposite. She was narrow and more filly like than the others. She was quick footed and bright minded though and Maggie could feel the energy moving between them. Artemis kept her head high as galloped, lifting her knees high as though she wasn't quite sure about the dirt. It was more than likely Artemis would appreciate the turf slightly more, but as she moved over the sandy footing it appeared the filly grew more confident. She lowered her head only slightly when Maggie asked for more speed, but her legs flew with the adjustment and she began to snort. Maggie gripped some of the black mane in her hands, lowering her head to be level with the swift filly. It was like riding in a very fast sports car. She had a high cruising speed that you wouldn't have noticed unless you looked anywhere but straight. Maggie was grinning a wide grin as the filly covered the ground with enjoyment. For all of her hatred of being groomed, Artemis seemed to approach racing with pure fun. Ears pinned the filly launched over the dirt with more energy than before. She swept into the turn with crazy zeal, rounding it like a quarter horse rounded a barrel. "Told you I liked her," Ripley said to Mal as the filly clipped the corner and charged into the homestretch. She flew straight as an arrow down the stretch, ears pinned and body low the ground. She was a quick bugger and Ripley wondered how she would do when matched stride for stride by an opponent. Something told Ripley the bay wasn't going to go down quietly. She appeared way too happy to let someone steal the fun from her. Maggie was out of breath as the filly zipped beneath the line full of life. She was snorting and breathing slightly heavily, but she seemed to look around as though she expected more. She carried her head high as Maggie brought her back to a slow canter and than a trot. Maggie patted the filly's neck, calling encouraging words to her. The sleek bay snorted, flicking her tail as she drew up to Mal and Ripley. She neatly spun away when Mal went to grab for her reins. Maggie was laughing at the athletic move, as was Ripley. "Hey, none of that!" he chided when he finally got a hold of her head. Artemis dropped her head, met the man eye for eye and barely moved a muscle. Ripley laughed, "I'd say we have the fighter out of the lot. Everyone loves a fighter." Ripley's green eyes lit as the noise in the barn finally died down. Banished to the outside, Ripley had been itching to get back in for two reasons: one it was freaking cold out and 2) the yearling filly was causing trouble. There were very few annoyances in Ripley's life currently, but being banned from her own barn due to her pregnancy could change that. Her blood was firing red hot with fury at Brookson Wells and Malcolm Floyd for banishing her. Did she not have to train and deal with this unpleasant filly next year at the age of two? Would she not be hands on even in the latest months of her pregnancy? She hated when men ran herd on her. Especially when she was clinging to the last bits of her jockeying career. The auburn haired woman let out a fierce huff, shoved her hands through her hair at the wild whistle that floated down the hall. Memories of prior wild yearlings flicked through her head and all had turned manageable with the work. This one was just full of herself and full of the rampant true-blue Touch Up blood. A daughter of Touch Up lurked the halls of Witch Creek and Ripley was on cloud nine. Not since Y8 had she raised a single daughter of Touch Up. Calamity Queen, Fiery Touch, and In Front had all come to her barn in the their three year old years. Winning Touch had been a docile weanling, but she had moved on as a yearling to In Stride racing. The only filly before that had been The Devil's Touch. She had been the fiercest in attitude and the most troublesome from all of the rumors of Touch Up's other offspring. This one, in Ripley's opinion, was doing her best to rival The Devil. And she certainly was succeeding. Ripley winced at the sound of hooves thudding against wood. "Come on now," she heard Mal say. His voice was taut with unease and nerves, displaying to Ripley that True was the hardest horse to deal with in the Y13 crop. He had yet to lose his cool, but True was doing her best to push him over the limit. Silence preceded Brooks rolling the barn door open, his blue eyes bashful when he met Ripley's ferocious gaze. He shrugged in that male way and only made Ripley all the more mad. Movement behind the father of her child drew Ripley's gaze away, just in time to miss Brooks' sigh of relief. The only person smiling out of the quartet of humans was Ripley. Reese had her hands locked in mane, her face a picture of concentration. Frown lines marred her forehead as the horse beneath her launched into a half rear, striking with her front hooves. Mal grunted, tugged hard on the rope to force the filly on her feet. He was yanked in turn through the door, feet dragging in the dirt in protest. The bay filly snorted, eyes ablaze and would have gone after the mane mouth agape had Reese not chosen the moment to pull back on the bit. Ripley coughed as the dust settled, waving her hand in her face. "Now that boys is why everyone wants a Touch Up daughter." Mal snorted and Brooks glared at Ripley. "So let everyone else take one and leave us in peace." "I'm not in the habit of giving away champions." Reese nodded in agreement, finally allowing herself to release some tension. The bay filly shook beneath her like a big dog, tail switching over her haunches irritably. Reese hung on, held her breath. True was not one to be trusted by any means, that much she had proven. However, if this wasn't a runner, the sky wasn't blue. Mal, Brooks and Ripley basically came to the same conclusion as they looked upon the filly. Her bay body glimmered in the winter sunlight, her long tail floated gracefully to her ankles and her wide forehead was covered by a flowing forelock. True could only be described as beautiful, but that beauty did not hide the power of her. Her muscles were thick, her chest wide, her haunches large. Her legs were clean and long, carrying her height to a stunning 16.2 hands. She was the same height as Uno and her sire's size promised more height to come. "Now that is what a Touch Up and Strike The Win baby is supposed to look like. "I'm ready to watch her run. Mile gallop, let her cruise the last three furlongs." The filly stalked down the hill toward the dirt track, tail swinging behind her. She knew she was incredible and she knew she was strong. If not for Enrapture and Lady Timeah, Ripley would have crowned her one of the prettiest fillies Witch Creek had ever raised. But pretty is as pretty does. Reese hummed when the Touch Up daughter stepped hoof on the dirt. True seemed to come alive, ears pricking, neck bowing. Her knees lifted in an elegant dance and her legs tucked under her with grace. Reese had to admit this was probably one of the few horses she'd sat on that absolutely resonated with her. It was a presence thing. Awestruck simply had that extra something. The trainers settled in at the rail, eyes following the filly as she skipped into a lope. She pounded the earth beneath her even though she gave the illusion of moving effortlessly. Her stride was massive and she ate up the ground diligently. Reese kept her hands at the filly's neck, eyes forward and forcing herself to breath. The air seemed to crackle around True and Reese just couldn't put her finger on why. As the bay filly rolled through the backstretch, Reese became more and more suspicious. True was doing everything too good. She had an audience and she was behaving. There was no protest when Reese asked to go to the rail. Not even a flick of the tail. The Touch Up daughter did as she was told and that simply was not like her. An ominous feeling swelled in Reese, but she could only do as the filly did, which was gallop along handily. Mal placed his hands on the rail, swinging away from it with unease. Brooks and Ripley cast quick glances at him, but resumed their watch of the long striding filly. "I don't like it." He paced away, keeping an eye on the show. That's what it was though. Awestruck was putting on a show. Mal could have heard a pin drop so keen was his hearing at the moment. He was waiting for it. That explosion was about to happen. There always seemed to be trick about these fillies. Mal was just about to remark that very thing when it happened. Reese barely had a moments notice before the mile gallop reached the half and her mount decided it was time to ditch her. The filly practically dove out from under Reese who was left clinging to wild mane as the filly balked and roared to the inside. The wind change buffeted Reese who held on by the skin of her teeth, long enough to snag thickets of waving black mine. The three furlongs had suddenly turned to four furlongs and it was much more than just a "cruise." The filly blitzed into the turn, centrifugal force carrying her out to the four path. She blew the turn wildly, and Reese was once again praying to stay aboard. Her equilibrium was shot as the bay filly stormed straight on the turn instead of rolling with it. Reese took a deep breath, gathered her courage and pulled the left rein before the filly hit the outside rail of the home stretch. It was a testament to True's athletic abilities that she was able to grind almost to a halt, turn on her haunches and fling herself wildly into a sprint down the stretch. The speed was absolutely terrifying, so out of control was it. If she had not been experienced, Reese would have pondered risking broken limbs to get off the runaway. The woman moved up the filly's neck, clutching her mane and doing her best to pull the horse up. True's mouth gaped wide, but after the wire she pulled up on her own and quickly too. "Fuck," Brooks said, breath finally whooshing into his lungs. "What the hell Ripley? Why do all Touch Up spawn want to play chicken with the fence?" Ripley's face, pale as a ghost, turned away from the slowing filly. "Got me." Mal was laughing like a loon as True turned back. Wide eyed, both Ripley and Brooks appraised him as though he'd gone mad. "But did you see how fast she is? That is the real question!" "Fast is only good when playing by the rules," Brooks said through his teeth. Mal straightened, stifling the laughter, but his smile didn't dim. "Then play by the rules she will. But now I know she is spontaneous and I'll fix that by drilling her in the indoor ring. She'll turn so much that I'll have to teach her how to run straight again." Laura could hardly believe that this might be the very last workout she ever rode Dirty Diana in. Their last races together would be coming up quickly and Laura was in a state of shock. She'd taken the grade four mare all the way to the edge of grade one and now they were sitting on the cusp of being a really good pair. Only one win separated Diana from her grade one level. It had been the most elusive and frustrating win of Diana's career. She'd made herself known for her top finishes, being first or second in almost every start this year. The All For Glory mare deserved her win and if she notched it in the Glissade Stakes, December Week Two, perhaps a start in the Breeders' Cup Filly and Mare Sprint awaited her. It was one big if, but Laura had pulled off two miracles last year. Feline Frenzy and Whipped Cream had set the bar high for Laura, but she was more than living up to it on Nirvana and Diana. The red head patted her mount's neck, breaking her stare into space when a clatter of hooves on ice broke her focus. Diana shook her head, nickering in greeting to the similarly dappled filly coming down the path. Taboo, the regally bred daughter of Everyday Hero and Forbidden Wings, looked every inch the princess she was. She glided over the track with her ears pricked and her neck slightly bowed. She cut a beautiful figure in the morning light and her gracefulness was hard to miss. She flicked her ears in greeting to Diana, but held herself poised and at attention. Reese patted the filly's neck, smiling. Tabz had come such a long way since her near disastrous beginning. "Ripley's coming in two. She said to gallop a half mile and work the other half." Reese signaled her two year old into her floating hand gallop, drawing her down to Diana's side. The pink roan mare flashed her teeth, suddenly competitive now that it appeared they'd be doing something racing related. Laura had her hands foal keeping the mare in line. Diana had been awfully rough lately. She wanted to do her work and do it as fast as possible. The powerful mare cut down to the rail, asserting herself on the front end. Taboo was like silk in Reese's hands. She was so soft on the bit and, yet, there was enough energy there to assure Reese that she had a ton of horse. Taboo was not one to be underestimated and she'd proven that on several occasions. She was a fierce runner and definitely tougher than she looked. Her light frame and nature told Reese that she'd never be an Hourglass or Nirvana. Both of them could take on the boys repeatedly and come away with wins. Tabz was more of a filly's filly with her swift agility and devastating kick. Dirty Diana fanned out wide on the turn, carrying Taboo wide. The younger filly pinned her ears, showing her competitive spirit. She could be pushed around, but she sure as hell didn't take to it. She kicked into a higher gear, daring Dirty Diana to keep up if she wanted to pull those tricks. The reins were taunt in Reese's hands by the time they were halfway up the backstretch. Tabz wasn't a pushover, just light. And she sure as heck was taking her stand now. Diana wheeled through the stretch, muscles loosening up until her stride was at its greatest point. Her delicate head pressed into the air furlong, large nostrils flaring and engulfing great gulps of air. Her body looked like that of a greyhound with her deep chest and lithe rear end. Laura twined her fingers in the mare's mane as she rallied on the inside of Taboo and took over the lead again. Taboo battled back on the turn, gaining just enough advantage on Di to catch her by surprise. The slick two year old cut the turn, nearly cutting off Diana if not for Laura's swift reaction time. The larger mare bulled through the hole between Taboo and the rail. Her attack was ferocious and she nearly bowled Taboo over in the process. Taboo let loose a squeal, insulted beyond belief. Reese was impressed when she picked herself up and continued on despite the physicality. It was too late to catch Dirty Diana though. Laura went still after that. Her big mare was galloping along like a champ, ears pricked and tail high. She knew she was the champ and carried herself like one. Laura was laughing as they passed beneath the finish line. Next stop was grade one. "The new guy's coming today to ride," Ripley said as she finished tightening Mastermind's girth. "He's going to ride In Front in his workout and if they get along well enough, he'll stay on to take my spot in the riding roster." Laura scoffed, lifted her piercing blue eyes and aimed them at Ripley. "Then he better be one hell of a rider. He's not going to replace you. We're just going to have to deal with our loss and that's that." Brooks lifted a brow at Laura's remarks. She'd been getting awfully pessimistic lately. It was as though she didn't want to acknowledge the fact that Ripley was retiring in order to start a family. Granted, the child hadn't necessarily been planned and had been conceived out of wedlock, but that wasn't what was sticking in Laura's craw. It had more to do with her female idol calling it quits and stepping down from the mantle of chosen rider. It had to do with Mastermind and Cross My Heart retiring and Hourglass and Saint being taken over by Reese. It was going to be a huge change, but one they had known would come eventually. He would miss riding against her on a daily basis. The challenge made him a better rider for few could out best Ripley Marsh on her best days or her best horses. Brooks let out a sigh, ignoring the crackling silence. There was cause for celebration too. Two of their horses had returned from Blue Cross Estates, prompting the new rider to come fill Ripley's spot sooner than planned. Brooks touched the dark hide of his mount. Flashpoint had returned nearly a grade two winner and in fine form. The horse had developed beautifully from two to three and looked more than handsome horse he'd promised to be. Brooks admired the colt's sleek form and thanked Blue Cross for at least keeping him fit until he could return home. Laura was getting acquainted with her mount for the day, often filling in the floater position whenever two horses with the same rider were in the same workout. Today her mount was Optimus Unstoppable. The colt was built like a brawler with a thick chest and thick butt. He looked like the little engine that could and he most definitely behaved like the little engine the could. Optimus was rebounding off of a third place finish, but his record this season stood for itself. He'd been a bloody consistent bugger from start to finish, currently standing with seven wins. Six of those wins had come this season, showing how talented the animal truly was. The Shiver Me Timbers colt whuffled his lips over Laura's fingers, betraying his sweetness and hiding his demonic qualities that would surely come out on the track. Ripley liked the set up for this workout. Three sprinter/miler types would meet up and do battle over three furlongs of dirt. It called to be an excellent workout and it surely would turn out to be one. She had the best horse of all three, had always had the best horse in Mastermind. The chestnut stallion had been a super star from age two to age four, flying leaps and bounds beyond his own age group. He was untouchable by them and only a recent rivalry with Forbidden To Fly, an older horse, had given him grief. The temperature that had knocked him out of the Winter Dawn Treader Cup still filled Ripley with irritation. She'd watched her own Witch Creek raised Red Herring steal the win over GS Supercharged and Indian Darling. She'd cursed that fever knowing that Mastermind would have rolled that competition if he'd been healthy. She set a hand on the stallion's broad cheek, looked into his eager eyes. Mastermind was an incredible horse, one who filled her with joy and excitement. He never failed to impress her with the ease of his victories or toughness in the face of battle. Mastermind had stolen her heart and she would never find another horse quite like him to ride. She patted the horse's silken neck and stepped to his side to mount up. She settled into the little saddle, picked up the reins and turned him in the broad hallway of the barn. "Let's go. Three furlongs stand between us and our next starts." The other two riders mounted up and fled the barn like a band of thieves. Optimus tossed his head ferociously, hooves skittering down the path excitedly. He was a horse who loved his job and did it well. Laura could feel the immense power in his stout body, looked forward to riding him in this workout. Brooks had said to snatch him at the beginning, but something told her he'd do better at full pace. She let the colt move into a jog down the dirt track, careful to avoid slushy puddles. Optimus snorted, fresh as a daisy despite the hard year of racing. Durability was a result of his blue-collar breeding. Flashpoint's body quivered with knowing when he stepped onto the track. Yesterday, the colt had been worked in the indoor track to get settled in. Today, he would have his first workout back, something he badly needed. He'd come off the trailer running and ready to roll. He'd had a tough mile and a half gallop and had barely blown out a candle upon return. Ripley had determined he was ready for a race off of this workout and several gallops. She didn't want him tearing down the barn or injuring himself. Brooks was glad because he could hardly wait to get the horse in a race. The dark bay bolted into an energetic gallop the moment he hit the track, chasing the flying red banner of Mastermind. The older stallion snaked his head when Flashpoint bounded to his side. The older horse pinned his ears in annoyance, but straightened up at Ripley's rebuke. Sometimes Mastermind liked to remind everyone that he wasn't perfect. Ripley kept her hands at the golden boy's withers, eyes straight ahead as they bustled into the backstretch for the gallop up to the workout. Optimus strained at the bit to be released. His eyes rolled white as Flashpoint charged up to assault Mastermind. Laura's hands burned through the gloves, but she only gave a little bit at a time until the colt settled. Optimus still had a bit to learn, but soon he was running on steadily. The lighter bay colt had an engine in his back end and he would be more than happy to use it to take down the other two. Mastermind moved easily beneath Ripley, not bothered at all by Flashpoint's early bid. The dark bay three year old was a tough nut and he didn't back down when Mastermind remained on the lead. Mastermind didn't exactly have a head to run foolishly when threatened. This was a good lesson for Flashpoint who seemed to settle nicely when it was clear that Mastermind wasn't going to take off. Brooks liked what he felt beneath him, appreciated the efficiency of the body. Flashpoint didn't snort or expend useless energy. He looked like a wild man, but he really wasn't. Optimus, however, was a wild man. He was just begging Laura to release him and let him run as the speed shot up. Mastermind and Flashpoint drew to a four length advantage, leveling their bodies to to the ground in full flight. Optimus was tired of fighting and Laura tired of holding him back. She begged her hands to hold him back just a little more. He'd shoot away like a rocket when the turn ended. Ripley and Brooks sat chilly as their horses fought for control. Or well Flashpoint fought for control. Mastermind was easily mowing down the course as though this were nothing but a gallop. Flashpoint kept up awesomely, but it was clear he'd have to improve leaps and bounds to take down Mastermind. Moose acquitted himself well when he didn't give in, especially when Optimus came roaring down the center of the track. Both Ripley and Brooks looked up at the thunderous hooves, glanced sideways, temporarily throwing their mounts off. Laura was lost in Optimus' black mane, his head and neck were cranked up so that she appeared apart of him. The colt flew over the dirt, slinging rocks and sand in his wake, tail streaming out behind him. He looked like a wild horse as he ripped past Mastermind and Flashpoint like they were standing still. The light bay colt flew through the wire three lengths in front and immediately checked himself down to a leisurely gallop. Mastermind and Flashpoint picked it up upon asking, but both horses appeared quite disgruntled at the loss. Mastermind's eyes blazed with irritation and Flashpoint with disgust. The horses galloped beyond Optimus, tails high in excitement and snottiness. Ripley and Brooks praised the horses, but both looked ahead to the next start. It was time to get back in the ring. For everyone, Optimus included. Brookson Wells eyed the shadowy figures of Ripley Marsh and the new guy from his spot at In Front's side. The blaze faced colt seemed nearly as interested, ears pricked and unmoving from the direction of the people. The bay colt mouthed the bit he had clenched in his maw, twitched his tail over his rump. The large horse seemed more than ready to get back into work, but first he had to deal with this intruder. In Front had become king of the palace recently and everyone, including the disgruntled fillies, knew it. Brooks patted the colt's neck, checked the tightness of the girth and walked down the hall. The blond guy nodded to Ripley and stuck his hand out to the slim, brown haired guy beside her. "Hello, Brookson Wells, assistant trainer." The brown haired guy cocked a brow over his hazel eyes and smirked. "David Carter, jockey." Brooks snorted, appreciated the steady hand he held and then released it. This David Carter guy passed for the moment. "I've watched you ride. You ride good and tough. We need someone good and tough. We seem to be breeding a heavier kind of horse than the last three years. That's good, but with heavier horses, you need stronger bodies." Ripley lifted her brows, shrugged. "Don't want a weak horse. Strong of body and strong of mind is my goal." "It's a good one," David remarked. He shuffled his feet, a little uneasy when a silence fell over the trio. He was in a world far different than the one he'd known before. The jockey school had prepared him for riding, but navigating the pre-existing social order in racing stables had not been taught often enough. He tucked his hands in his pant's pockets and shifted his gaze down the row to the towering presence in between the cross-ties. This particular horse needed no introduction to David. He'd admired the powerfully built animal in his rapid ascent to the top of the dirt colt ranks. In Front had been a powerful horse in full run with a massive stride, a big heart and a furious competitiveness. The Touch Up son had been David's favorite to take the Kentucky Derby, but looking at him now in his kingdom... David could see that the early spring version simply could not compare. His muscles were tense beneath his dappled light bay hide, his head was lifted at a challenging angle and his form seemed to promise ferociousness. His shoulders were large and his chest wide and deep. He was a magnificent specimen and he knew it. "Boy, he looks like a million bucks," David muttered. Ripley followed the kid's gaze to In Front, admired the horse herself. "Yes... He really came to hand after his vacation. He's getting too tough on the hands so it's time to get him back to the track. "He'll be your mount for the day." Surprise was an inappropriate description for what he felt course through him. He would be riding IN FRONT? When did a kid like him get to ride a horse like that? A horse that had been a top Kentucky Derby prospect and had finished second or third in the classic dirt races he'd participated in, including the Derby, the Belmont, the Queen's Plate, and the Prince of Wales. No surprise was hardly adequate. Elation, ecstasy, purpose and wonder were better terms. "Wow... Well I gratefully accept that proposition..." Ripley smiled, "Good. You'll be facing off against Reese and Laura today. The Devil's Hourglass and Wishing For A Heroine. It'll be over the dirt, but don't think you'll get off easy. Hourglass is nearly as effective over dirt and Heroine is as versatile as they come." She nodded to Brooks and marched off out of the barn to greet her female riders. Reese and Laura did their best not to crane their necks to get a look at the new guy. Laura told herself it wouldn't really matter til they hit the track. She liked knowing her opponent so the uncertainty threatened her. She turned the filly beneath her to face the track as Ripley emerged and climbed up on The Devil's Touch who'd been standing patiently beside her daughter, Hourglass. Laura admired the pair, was stunned by the shocking resemblance. Mirror images of power and impressive courage. That was the breeding result of Witch Creek Stable. "Let's go down to the track." The trio walked down the hill. Heroine pranced more than walked, her quick feet sifting through the dirt. She seemed to shake with excitement at being back home. She'd stepped off the trailer and walked in as though she'd never left. Laura enjoyed the sizzling energy beneath her. The filly was a grade three horse now, but her attitude had not changed a bit since her youth. Laura was excited to get on the quick filly. It was refreshing to get on new mounts. Reese was not new to Hourglass per say as she'd been galloping her for months. This would be her first workout aboard the tough bay filly. The three year old's eyes blazed with intensity as she stepped foot onto the track. She tossed her forelock, bearing her large white star. Reese nursed the filly along, trying her best not to give her too much freedom. Hourglass tended to be stronger in the mornings, more speed frenzied than she was in the afternoon. Today was going to be a fast workout with Heroine in the group. In Front was not a keyed up runner. Reese expected Carter to be working from start to finish. David eased the towering colt onto the track, let him move into a purposeful canter. Boy he just seemed to roll along like a comfortable chair. David could have sat the easy gait, but didn't dare with Ripley watching. The woman cantered up alongside him on the incomparable Devil's Touch. The bay mare, dam to Hourglass, looked every inch the stunner she'd been as a runner. Ripley nodded to David, "Just a six furlong workout. The other two already have their instructions." He nodded, looked back and guided In Front to the rail, allowing him to lengthen his stride to catch up with the fillies. The blaze faced colt strode over the course, mane and tail billowing out behind him, and truly impressed David. There was immense power beneath his gleaming light bay hide. In Front burned bright like a candle. Heroine and Hourglass cruised into the backstretch, battling for the lead. Heroine was so determined to knock Hourglass off of her pedestal. Laura had a tight hold on the filly, cursing her lack of gloves. Heroine was pushing the limits of speed here, but Hourglass' innate fiery nature did not help. The darker bay filly beneath Laura zipped over the ground, legs blurring beneath her lean body. Her eyes were bright with excitement and her happiness was almost tangible. Reese found no need to hold Hourglass back. This was the pace that the broad shouldered filly wanted to set and she moved effortlessly despite the quickness of the work. The Sand Storm daughter flew over the course, thunderous as she bulled her way through the first four furlongs. Her pace did not slacken as she rounded the turn, a half length ahead of Heroine. The Everyday Hero daughter fought on bravely, but slowed on the turn, not wanting to head breakneck for the stretch. Laura peeked under her arm, spotted the gigantic form of In Front three lengths back. He was closer than she'd expected. Obviously the new rider wasn't impeding him any. David peered between the pricked ears of his mount, absolutely thrilling as the colt picked up speed with ease. He was lighter on his feet than he'd looked in the videos. He was agile enough to move side to side on command and David liked the versatility. He moved his hands up the colt's neck, kept the inside rein tighter to keep him to the rail. The fillies were running three lengths ahead but the distance seemed very little to this massive striding animal. Ripley and Brooks watched in approval as David swung In Front off the turn and let him run the final furlong. Hourglass and Heroine reacted to the sudden move, gunned into a new gear. Hourglass was getting the better of the leaner filly, but she definitely was not happy to find another assailant running to Heroine's other side. The burly colt seemed to lay briefly when he reached his opponents, but a quick slap on the neck with David's hand sent him onward, leaving him to engage Hourglass. The star marked granddaughter of Touch Up fought bravely the final three hundreds, just beating out In Front's stupendous charge. The light bay marched on in his gallop, beating out Hourglass in the gallop out. He coasted along in the gallop, giving David Carter chills. Now this was a nice individual. "That works for me," Ripley said as she turned The Devil's Touch to face to Brooks. The blond man nodded, eyes betraying the excitement he felt. "If it works for you, it works for me." "She's a relatively easy filly to ride," Laura said as she tightened the girth on Lethal Dose. The strong bay daughter of Lethal Knack snorted, eyes rolling slightly in disgust. She never liked this part and Laura had to admit it reminded her a lot of corseting, something she probably wouldn't have enjoyed either. "But don't let her get distracted Brooks. She'll get sluggish if you lose focus. Being a comfortable ride, she can be slightly deceiving." Brooks watched Laura and Lee with watchful blue eyes. The prickly pair seemed a match made in heaven. Somehow, the girl was able to ride just as well aboard the sweetest filly in the bunch. He placed a hand on that filly's neck, assessing her. Nirvana was in gleaming good health and grade three status sure seemed to agree with her. She'd put them all to shame with her sweeping juvenile performances. Nirvana had been the underdog, but she was doing just as well as the perfectly bred Sun King. Brooks was eager to get on the outstanding two year old filly and compare her to his brilliant mount. "I've dealt with her type before. She'll go good for me, hopefully." Laura rolled her eyes. It was such a boy thing that they thought they could get on any mount and make it perform. Some pairs didn't click for a reason. Laura cast a wary eye at Vana, secretly warning her to behave. This workout would ultimately determine her performance in the South Ocean Stakes so she had to do well. Otherwise, defeat would be awaiting them. Justin walked Casualty of War outside of the barn, shaking his feet as he walked to rid them of the cold. The powerful bay colt beside him seemed to radiate heat. His magnificent body shimmered in the weak winter light and he hardly looked cold at all. The son of Man O' War was in excellent health and prepared to make another run over the dirt surface. The colt was an extremely talented animal and his form could hardly be argued with. He had a waspish temperament, but when he was on that could all be forgiven. Justin stopped the horse, facing the sunlight and just soaked it in. He'd be sweating in a matter of minutes when they got to the dirt track. Casualty of War was a hard animal to ride, but the reward was simply great when they connected. Ripley watched the horses intently, resting her arms over her belly. To anyone else it looked like she was looking for something to grow, but inside, Ripley was praying it would stay as small as possible. She couldn't lose her mounts and wouldn't send Mastermind postward without her. They'd worked too hard, stayed together too long to not go out in the spotlight. Ripley's green eyes were filled with shadows of late, betraying the nonchalance she'd shown the media days before. Mastermind had missed the Winter Dawn Treader Cup and now would be tested harder than ever in his final three starts. She sighed, shook her head when Brooks laid a hand on her shoulder. He was the only one who knew Ripley well enough to call bullshit. "What's it gonna be today, Doc?" Ripley snorted, leaned into him briefly, displaying vulnerability that shocked Laura and Justin slightly. The prickly woman wasn't one for PDA, not that this could really be titled that. Laura turned her gaze to Lee, pondering Ripley's upcoming retirement. She'd been one of the greatest jockeys, piloting El Sol Del Mar, Fiery Touch, Cross My Heart, Mastermind, The Devil's Hourglass and Saintly Touch. Each and everyone had been incredible in their own way. Several had been incredible enough to make a claim for legendary and Hall of Fame. Laura hoped one day she'd have that light, but knew pregnancy would never be in the cards for her. "Mile gallop into a five furlong breeze. Finish on even terms if you can. No runaways. We're trying to test their courage in the face of battle." Brooks nodded and mounted up on Nirvana. He was slightly surprised when he settled into the tiny racing saddle. For a small filly, she sure had a big feel to her. He could feel the power in her frame, eyed the large shoulders with excitement. This was the reason for Nirvana's success. He patted her thick neck in appreciation and nodded at Laura. "She feels good." Laura cocked a brow from her spot aboard Lethal Dose. The rangy filly flicked her ears, eyes blazing with fire as she walked by Nirvana. Lee possessed a commanding air, only increased by her recent accomplishments. One win from grade three was nothing to snort at when you'd raced only once as a two year old. "Good is an understatement." Ripley gave a leg up to Justin and repeated her instructions. "Don't let him get heavy in your hand today. Relax him." Justin nodded, patted his colt as he headed down the path. The bay horse had become a bit of a powerhouse in his gallops and was becoming a credit to Ripley's new style of training. The hotheaded animal simply couldn't tolerate being out of work. On days when he was feeling especially naughty, Ripley had asked Justin to take him out for the second time those days. It seemed to have work and the extra training certainly couldn't hurt the solid animal. The trio of horses stepped onto the track, ears pricking and muscles bunching. Lethal Dose was quick to break off, fleet strides flying over the ground. The unmarked filly had a quick way of going and she simply devoured the ground. Her black mane blew into Laura's face and she just grew stronger into the first turn. Laura kept her hands at the filly's neck, keeping herself steady as much as the horse. Sometimes Lethal Dose could be a handful and that energy could take over Laura. Not today. Brooks had to admit he was impressed with Nirvana. The blaze-marked horse seemed very much at ease when her two workmates shot out to the lead. She got into the bridle, but she sure didn't pull you out of the saddle. Her ears were pricked on the colt and filly ahead, but her stride was even and long. He kept a loose rein, not egging her on to pick it up just yet. The bay filly clipped through the fractions with ease and precision and Brooks didn't mind letting her fall back seven lengths off the top pair. Justin kept a kind touch on Sultan's face, reminding him that he was still aboard and that the horse needed to behave. The large horse could definitely get full of himself, but not in a race. It was quite unusual for the headstrong horse to not be a wild runaway. He could be strong, but if was allowed to set a strong pace the horse seemed to be able to run all day. The heavy colt kept the lighter filly just behind him down the homestretch, moving as easily as he pleased. Justin liked knowing he had a stamina proven mount, appreciated that there could be several moves made in the race. He leaned closer as they cut through the turn, nearly checking Lethal Dose in the process. Laura growled and switched the three year old to the outside, winged her up alongside Sultan. Lethal Dose grew competitive when she was pushed around and now was no exception. She bolted up to run head and head with the juvenile, ears lost in her torrid black mane. Her strides were swift and fast and she defied the idea that colts were innately better than fillies. Her maturity over the year had been impressive and now she was a running machine. Laura still had an easy grip on the reins, felt the filly's mouth as she rolled through the first two furlongs. Casualty of War kept up easily, appreciating the increase in pace. Laura knew that Nirvana would also be appreciating said pace and expected a run from that one very soon. Soon was an understatement. The stout filly was closing in rapidly, making up impressive ground on the turn. Brooks leaned close, a grin spreading across his features and pressed the filly onward. She had a good turn of foot for such a heavy looking filly. And when she ran, she cruised like a luxury vehicle. Nirvana swung out to the outside of Lethal Dose and was at the filly's haunch by the final furlong. Lee's outside ear flicked and Laura knew that it was time for more. She flicked the whip and Lee punched it, leaving the game Casualty of War slightly stunned until he saw the rival on the outside. Justin chirped to the colt, appreciated his response to run with Nirvana, despite being outfooted by Lethal Dose. Nirvana could not make the ground up on the middle distance filly after the tremendous run, but she sure had gotten enough bottom to do some damage in her next couple of starts. Laura patted Lethal Dose's neck as the filly galloped out powerfully into the final turn. She was only getting better. It was easy to forget that this was truly her only year of racing. The talent was there. The question was how long before she made it to the big leagues? The two bay mares stood silently on the track, heads tracking the running horses with curiosity. The thicker mare's eyes gleamed with fire and irritation while the slimmer mare's blazed with keenness. The riders sat quietly as they waited for the running pair to complete their workout. The blue eyed riders barely moved a muscle aboard their horses, relaxed in their own resolute stillness. It was a noble posture that the two brown horses carried themselves. One was a known champion due to her unbelievable performances on the racetrack, while the other was only known for her regal pedigree. Someday that may change, but the latter mare didn't know she wasn't a queen. Miss Josephine behaved like one, moved like one, and was a dominating presence on the track. Laura stroked the long black mane, felt the power of the Passionate Class mare. Josey tossed her head, eyes blazing furiously. She wasn't a filly to be coddled and held close. She was an independent horse with an independent mindset. Laura leaned back, turned her gaze to Maggie Reynolds. "This should be an interesting workout." "Just lean forward and enjoy the rush." Maggie cocked a brow, blue eyes scouring the track. "That is if we ever get on the track ourselves." Laura snorted, snuggling into her wind jacket. It was a freezing cold day to be sitting on the dirt track waiting for the yearling set to finish. Laura did not like sitting around for the yearlings. They were a joy to work with, but their workouts and time on the track always seemed to take longer than necessary. Enrapture and Awestruck flew around the far turn, attracting the attention of the older mares. Their ears shot straight up in acknowledgement of the galloping horses. Maggie was impressed with both fillies, especially Awestruck. The daughter of Touch Up looked absolutely powerful out there, her long stride covering the ground impressively. Her ears darted about on her head, giving the impression that she still wasn't focused. Maggie glanced down the track toward Malcolm aboard Jabberwock and Ripley aboard The Devil's Touch, another daughter of Touch Up. Both of them looked impressed, though Ripley was making her usual internal notes. You could tell by her eyes. The light bay form of Enrapture gritted down and got the better of True, her ears pinned and eyes focused. If there was a more focused yearling at the moment, Maggie wanted to meet him or her. Ennie already knew the meaning of racing, even though she had yet to go to an actual racetrack. It scared Maggie to know that both fillies had room for improvement when they were already so frighteningly good. Laura nudged Maggie and nodded to Ripley who was trotting toward them. The Devil thundered over the earth, tossing her head and proving slightly difficult. The retired broodmare looked more than ready to hop back into her former career of racing. She'd been a brilliant horse in her running days and had passed that brilliance to her offspring. If only she hadn't tried to kill them... "I want a brisk seven furlong breeze. Don't worry about the lead up, gallop as you please into the first furlong and then focus them on the job. I want a solid final half." The riders nodded, bumped fists with Brooks and Reese as they came off the track. Paranormal Hunter jumped right into the bit, moving more forcefully than she had all season. Her break had done her a world of good and now she looked ready to rock and roll. She would have to be ready off of this workout to handle the field in the La Costa Stakes. Her big lumbering form would need the race, but her innate talent and class could be more than enough to handle the field. She didn't need the victory. It was simply a stepping stone to the Wire Green Mile. A win wouldn't hurt though. Miss Josephine skipped alongside Para, her ears lost in her mane and her stride purposeful. She was getting back into racing as much as the other three year old filly, but her goals were simply less lofty. The goal for Josey was getting back in the winner's circle and to take up the mantle for next season. Maggie and Laura both hoped the Night Stalker grand-daughter would step into the lofty shoes of Whipped Cream come Year Fifteen. Grade four to grade one was the goal. The filly was certainly talented enough to do it. Laura patted the horse's neck, moved her hands up the filly's neck and set her down for the first furlong of the seven furlong breeze. Paranormal Hunter fell back when Miss Josephine took off. The heavy mare watched the fleet footed horse with keen eyes, but it was clear that she would be pursuing her in the end. Maggie let the Flash Limits daughter gather herself beneath her, enjoying the rocking horse movement. Para had a sweet, sweet stride and she used it to her full advantage. If she didn't have put effort in, chasing a much quicker horse, she surely would not. Para was economical if not fast at the get-go. Laura let the Passionate Class mare cruise along, impressed with her natural speed. She was a closer in her races, but she seemed to enjoy this leading stuff. Laura kept her hands relaxed on the reins as the filly clicked off impressive fractions. She pulled to a three length advantage on Para, but stayed there at Laura's asking. Both fillies needed the competition at the end of this seven furlong demonstration. Ripley and Malcolm watched as Miss Josephine skipped through four furlongs and into the fifth. "Ticking off the time easily. Third off the layoff may just be getting this one back in shape, Marsh." Mal steadied Jabberwock beneath him as the bay filly rolled into the far turn with Para kicking into gear behind her. Sometimes Jabberwock forgot he was a track pony. Maggie's eyes dried out in the face of the rushing wind. Para's heavy body powered off the turn, ears pinned back in her mane as she, finally, remembered her job. The bay roared after Josey, hooves churning through the dirt. The surface was not much to her liking because of its depth compared to the springy turf. Her heart was impressive for she not only overcame the surface, but also collared Miss Josephine with a half-furlong to go. The white-marked filly on the inside responded with a gutsy rebuttal, but she could not hold off the hurricane to her outside. The pair galloped through the wire, only getting stronger into the first turn. "Para needed that one. Definitely needs to get back running though." "It'll be nice to have her back on the racing roster. Third off the layoff for her will be the Breeders' Cup." "She'll definitely be ready. But Miss Josey's ready right now. That was impressive to say the least." |
WorkoutsPlease realize that I do add in workouts before they are necessarily due. If you are looking for a specific horse because you are judging a race, click on his/her name below and his/her latest workout will appear at the top or your screen. Categories
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