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!"
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"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 clear morning air was a welcoming touch for Justin Santiago. His apartment was in need of a drastic going over. He hadn't been able to clean it in such a long time because of the hectic schedule at Witch Creek. They had downsized and then upsized and continued to upsize. Ripley was notorious for horse trading and dealing. Some horses came back and some didn't. Only one had in the recent dealings. Popcorn Blitz. The chestnut stud was raucous as ever. Even now, Justin could hear the blaze faced stallion picking a fight with In Front. At least someone was giving In Front a little exercise. The big bay was on resting duty and being a horse duty. Until Ripley was satisfied he was "horse enough," the Touch Up colt was out of training. Justin expected him back by the end of December. In Front would grow tired of being just a horse. True runners always did. The kid stepped into the barn and felt a rush of warmth on his skin. Winter was here and so were the heaters in the barn. Twin nickers demanded Justin's attention from the section of cross-ties. Neither of the horses were his. Lethal Dose and Dirty Diana eyed him as though he were a piece of meat. The pink roan mare snorted, pawed the ground furiously, much to the chagrin of Brookson Wells. Justin's eyes widened as he remembered that Brooks would be subbing for Laura aboard Diana. Laura was sticking to Lethal Dose like a burr until she at least hit the higher levels. Laura was running a brush down Lee's satiny head. She raised her brows at him as he jogged past. "A little late, aren't you? Good thing I got your demon mount ready for you." Justin slackened his pace considerably, sighing gratefully when he spotted Sultan tacked up. His smile of gratitude dimmed when Ripley turned the colt around. "Well, hello, Justin." Her voice was chilly, but her eyes were warm as they swept over him. She was a woman of many talents. "Fancy seeing you here for your horse's workout set." "Yeah... fancy that." He blushed when the woman slapped the leather reins into his gloved hand. "Thanks, Ripley." She shrugged as she left. She suffered no fools, especially during her pregnancy. Brooks flashed Justin a small smile. He knew how those bracing words felt at 5:30 A.M. Not good. At all. Brooks patted Ripley's back as she bowed to check out Diana's wraps. "How's she look?" he asked, brushing off the previous chill. Ripley stood slowly and yawned. "Pretty good. She's fit enough to come back to work. Definitely needs this outing. She's been overeager in her workouts. I can't wait to get her on the turf track. She really exploded in her last start before the layoff. Should have tried the grass sooner." Laura snickered as Ripley moved to Lee. "Well at least we know Lee will never prefer the grass." Ripley chuckled, adjusted a strap on the wrap. "Always a bonus. She's a pretty good dirt horse anyway. No need to change." "I need a six furlong breeze from them. Open their lungs, but do not let them fly. No need to overdo it." The riders nodded and mounted up within the barn, grimacing as the winter breeze slapped them through the open doors. Sultan let out a whistle, lifting his head into the cool air as though it were paradise. Justin twined his hands into the dark colt's mane, happy he had a furnace beneath him for the morning's workout. The colt pranced enthusiastically after his counterparts. This was the happiest Sultan had ever been in his entire career with Witch Creek. He'd already been settled in and he still was downright miserable, but something had changed so that he was less miserable to be around. The powerful animal strutted out onto the dirt track, tossing his head and kicking up his hooves. "Easy, boy. Easy." Lethal Dose bolted into a gallop the minute Laura released the reins. The bay daughter of Lethal Knack was as powerful as they came with a short-fuse personality to match. She settled into stride quickly heading toward the first turn, ears pricking. Laura tucked her fingers into the whipping mane, letting the piercing wind have its way with her. Winter was never a fun season. Never would be a fun season. Brooks let Dirty Diana move into her gallant stride before he took up on the reins at all. She was a powerful mare, had grown more so as the season had progressed. Her times were improving with every race and she was just at the precipice of grade one action. Things would get a hell of a lot tougher from here, but her performances were finally living up to all of the early billing. The large mare flitted over the course, tracking the strong colt and the rangy filly. She had maturity and experience on these two. A queen among peasants. Sultan pulled the reins through Justin's hands, defying as much control as he could. The kid kept a stern grip and jerked the bit out of teeth more than once. Dirt was definitely Sultan's preferred surface. He got better traction over the dirt than the turf. Yet, he was still good enough to win on the turf. The recently crowned grade four two year old would be making a surface switch after a very profitable early season. Such a move was unprecedented, but when you were working over the prime stuff, you switched for full benefit. The colt coasted through the backstretch, ears sliding back into his mane and eyes becoming brighter as he realized they would get to open up in the stretch. Justin kept a keen ear out for Lee and Diana. Both horses were awfully clever and tough. Neither gave an inch when it came to racing. And Lee was especially sharp right now. Laura guided her bay three year old to the outside of Sultan for prime space. Lee was really swallowing the dirt like nothing today. She had a solid stride and a heart as big as the country. She was courageous in defeat and today she would be out for the victory as she had lost her last time out. Sitting on the edge of grade three, the bay was moving up with impressive precision. Today was the beginning of her final months as a three year old. Diana was stalking the younger two with a predatory expression on her face. She'd enjoyed the time off, but she hadn't forgotten her calling. The All For Glory mare ate up the ground into the far turn and prepared to run her opponents into the ground. Sultan's ears locked back against his neck when Lethal Dose moved up to challenge. The bay filly was an intimidating opponent to most, but she'd find no easy mark in Casualty of War. Laura pumped a little with her hands, found the gear she'd been looking for and settled down for the ride. The pair of horses battled strongly down the stretch, locked in impressive battle. Brooks chirped to Diana halfway down the lane, grinned when she skipped over Casualty of War's heels and gunned up the inside lane. Casualty of War had made a beginner's mistake by coming off the rail to engage Lethal Dose. The big gray mare was more than willing to take advantage of the slip. He'd timed the winning move correctly and the opponent. Sultan looked furious when the gray shot under the wire first, but not nearly as furious as Lee who had seen Dirty Diana only too late. It was almost time for game time. The riders could hardly wait. It'd been a while since the workout pairings had been switched up. Since last year really. Ripley was very particular against working two year olds against their elders, especially four year olds. Laura glanced anxiously down the barn row, eyes glinting. She'd hardly expected the list that popped out this morning. Nirvana and Casualty of War hadn't been the surprise. What had been the surprise was the third name. Mastermind. A name that was becoming more legend than reality, more reverential than down-to-earth. The lean Adonis that stood tied at the very end of the barn had only lost four races out of twelve starts this season. To say he was in his prime would be an understatement of a vast career spanning three seasons. The chestnut horse looked so athletic even now, poised and elegant with his gear on. He was a photographer's dream. Laura glanced at her heavy-set mount, smirked. She had a great face, but miss Nirvana would only ever be cute. It wasn't that Vana was dull or plain to look at. She wasn't. She had more muscle to her fore-hand than any other two year old on the property. She had a spark in her eye and a big enough engine to dismantle her opponents in the stretch. She was just the complete opposite of what Witch Creek normally housed. The powerful bay-black creature before Vana was exactly what Witch Creek normally housed. As one of the few Man O' War lined horses on the racetrack, Casualty of War stood out for his regal and old time breeding. Add in the dashing good looks, the epic temper and fury on the track and you basically got typical WCS. Justin took in the large expanse of his colt, eyes gleaming with excitement and pride. There was no better looking two year old than Sultan. He just had an edge above the rest. It was his maturity and his wildness that drew Justin like moth to flame. The colt just had the "It" factor. A winner of three races on the turf, Casualty of War was about to make a career switch. Ripley had suggested sending the horse to the dirt having seen how well he did over the dirt track at home. Perhaps, there was something there. Today would be Sultan's first test. It would be stiff and it would be interesting to say the least. Justin hoped that Ripley was correct in assuming Sultan's affinity for the dirt for it would take "greatest dirt runner to ever live" to take down Mastermind. Ripley kept her thoughts to herself as she tidied up the bandages on Mastermind's hind legs. The gleaming chestnut stud did his own talking and that was more than effective. Ripley stood, smiled at the two younger riders. Not that she wouldn't love taking the kids down a peg. She could ride just as brilliantly as ever, but she wouldn't be obvious. "Alright. We're going to have a solid workout today. It's time to let these guys roll and allow them to decide if they want to go to the Breeders' Cup or not." Laura and Justin exchanged glances, nervous. It was not quite clear if either of them would be granted the opportunity to ride in the Breeders' Cup this season. Those spots were becoming harder and harder to come by. Sultan was in greater danger than Vana of not making the Breeders' Cup. "...So I want a solid five furlong workout after a mile gallop up. Sultan can lead or settle wherever he's comfortable. Laura, do your best to stay close." The riders left the barn in silence, each pondering their next actions carefully. Justin knew Casualty of War wasn't a speed ball, but the horse seemed to naturally cruise along. Perhaps he would rate alongside Mastermind and actually keep the horse company for a change. Ripley was thinking along similar lines, a light furrow between her brows marking the thought. Laura mounted, but a smile was on her lips. Vana wasn't a show off in her workouts or races. She was a true-blue, hard-working grinder. There was no pizzazz, but there was a hell of a lot of blunt honesty. The colts bolted into their energetic gallops, muscles pumping beneath gleaming hides. Sultan's gaze was alight with fire and irritation when Mastermind easily kept up. The lean chestnut settled in at the rail, ears pricking despite the ominous presence of the Man O' War colt. The bay-black creature pushed head and head with the older horse for the entire first turn, really letting the older horse know he was there. Vana lagged along at the back, ears flopping back and forth on her skull. She wasn't a hard core runner like Sultan, definitely not a cunning animal like Mastermind. She lumbered along at her own pace, snorting through her nostrils as if she were really putting out a major effort. Laura could feel that she wasn't. The horse beneath her vibrated with energy and all of it was coming from the bay's hind end. The filly bowed her neck, flexing and showing Laura she was just pretending. Ripley peeked under her arm as Mastermind cruised down the backstretch, well within himself. Casualty Of War had fallen off of him after a little bit of chasing. It would be futile to chase a proven sprinter and hope to beat him at his own game. Justin sat still as a stone, hands idle at the near black's withers. He liked what he felt beneath him. The muscular colt hummed with energy. He was handling the dirt better than expected, skipping over it despite his size. Justin really liked what he felt a lot. He patted the colt's muscled neck, a grin touching his features. Mastermind rounded back into the backstretch, pressing into Ripley's hands. He was full of himself and Ripley felt like she was sitting on a keg. How much longer could he continue this string of amazing victories and powerful wins? No horse could keep this kind of resonating success for an entire year. He'd have to be something amazing and Ripley was banking on it. She had to. The end of the season was coming quickly. All of Mastermind's resources would be tapped by the end. Ripley ran a hand down the stud's neck, bolstering herself up. He was a good boy. Laura nudged Vana forward, chirping as she did to egg the filly on. The two year old responded with a punch of speed, enough to close the gap between herself and Sultan to three lengths. That got Sultan's attention. Justin barely had time to prepare himself before the colt made his bid for the lead. The black-bay colt swarmed up on Mastermind's outside, furious as a nest of disturbed hornets. Mastermind, caught unaware, repelled the bid with another gear and promptly cut the corner. "Of course," muttered Laura. Vana stuttered briefly when Mastermind cut off her hole, before moving between Sultan and the older horse. With a determined thrust, the blaze-faced filly bulled her way into the space. Sultan pinned his ears, cocked his head sideways as though he might savage her. Justin cranked the colt's head sideways, turned him front and set him down for the stretch. Laura took pride in her ballsy filly. Others would have been cowed by the obvious threat, but not Vana. She ground it out, eyes fiercer and darker than before. Sultan would pay for the insult. Vana became an immovable block in Sultan's way to get to Mastermind. The bay filly glued herself to the Man O' War colt like a flea and ran relentlessly with him. Frustration wafted off of Sultan as Mastermind skipped away to a length lead while he was preoccupied with Vana. Justin's curiosity was amped to the max. Few would have denied being impressed with the move Sultan had made on the turn. Perhaps the colt was a better animal on the dirt. It was no insult to lose to Mastermind as many had. Perhaps, he's better than I thought... Ripley patted Mastermind's neck as she watched the others finish up two lengths behind. That'd been harder than expected, but that was exactly what Mastermind would need going forward. Even legends could be beaten. It was up to the trainers to find ways to prevent such losses from occurring. Of all the people to experience a lull in their riding career, Justin had looked the least likely at the end of Year Thirteen. He'd ridden a mare to a Breeders' Cup victory, watched his usual grade one colt take third in the same race. He'd never felt better at that point. Now both of those horses were gone. One horse remained the same though he hadn't even been rideable at this point last year. That heavy set colt stood with blazing eyes staring right into Justin's dark brown ones. Casualty of War, a son of Man O' War and Flight Of Fancy. He was a vicious son of a gun. The meanest out of the entire Year Twelve crop. He was also very talented. He had not received the opportunity to show off his best form. All three of his victories had been hard fought ones. And all of his races had reflected some form of inexperience. That was all changing. Lately, Sultan had been a demon in his gallops, so on the muscle that he was worked alone. But he had not forgotten his arch nemesis. The colt's ears pricked up when Reese emerged from the stall guiding the fire colored colt. Spotlight Pride, potentially the fastest turf two year old miler in the country, had long put himself on Sultan's black list. The DeathFlash's Pride colt was not the most intimidating creature. Even now he danced sideways, mouthing the bit more out of nerves than eagerness. His wild eyes rolled in Sultan's direction, but he did not reflect any bit of their rivalry. He reflected fear. The colt was as fearful as they came until they hit the track. It was why Sultan hated him so. Fearless was the perfect way to describe Paranormal Hunter. The bay Flash Limits filly strode right up to the three year old barn as though she did not sense the crackling tension. Maggie patted the horse's neck, smiling when Reese and Justin emerged from the barn with their mounts in tow. Pride and Sultan might be hot stuff now, but they'd never faced the likes of Para. Her closing ability was renowned and people were beginning to just shake their heads when she won. She was a machine these days. Maggie wondered if perhaps Paranormal Hunter was the best three year old filly in training, regardless of surface. Ripley emerged from the shadows of the barn in her golf-cart, green eyes blazing with life. She scanned her three horses, nearly patted herself on the back. All of them looked simply fabulous. Sultan was coming into his own. Pride had yet to reach to his limit. And Para... well, she was simply indescribable. "Good to see them all ready to go." Ripley glanced toward the turf track, nodding to herself. "Mile and a quarter gallop, three furlong breeze. Nothing too heavy for them. We've got big plans coming up and they need to be prepared." It seemed liked Ripley became more and more quiet with her words every day. She rarely sat around and discussed tactics anymore. And yet she wasn't withdrawn. She was on a mission, nitpicking every little move they made. Today, she only nodded to them and drove off leaving her riders exchanging glances. Maggie had Para moving before the other two could turn and ask what was up. She was Ripley's best friend and even she didn't know what was going on with the head trainer. She'd played this waiting game before. Ripley would only talk when she was ready. Until then everyone, including herself, could be patient. Paranormal Hunter strode across the ground with purposeful strides, stronger than she'd been going into a workout a month before. She was on top of her game and it was really showing in ever glimmering section of hide, every impressive tangle of muscle. Casualty of War broke into a gallop first, not allowing the older filly to beat him to the punch. His eyes blazed as he passed Paranormal Hunter, recognizing her as a threat to his already shaky confidence. Spotlight Pride was bad for Casualty of War because the colt was so fleet footed at these distances. Sultan couldn't keep up. He relied on his strong cruising speed and it was effective as all get out at longer distances. Hopefully, in his next start, there were few horses faster than him. Pride bolted past Paranormal Hunter and Casualty of War with heart-pounding strides. He was so intense in full run, so determined to outrun his fears. He was a true racehorse in full flight. He was courageous. He was tough and he did not want anyone to beat him out. He raced side by side with Casualty of War over the hills, ears pinned to deflect the intimidation of Sultan. The larger black colt would have thrown his body under Pride's hooves if he knew that would stop the colt from burying him. Because that was an extreme option, Justin simply tugged the colt back and let Pride have his way. The chestnut stormed off to a length lead, settling down in his minimalist way. Maggie watched the action play out before her with bright, curious eyes. Pride was so quick and Sultan was so physical that they butted heads consistently. Para lingered at the back. She knew her job would be to run down both horses. She was becoming scary good at this profession. Her nostrils flared with every rolling stride. She was a great filly and Maggie was honored to be sitting on the filly's back. Pride cruised down the hillside, ears pricked now. He never seemed to have any cares in the world when he was racing on the front end. If you stuck him side by side with another horse, he'd fight to the death until he came out on top. Reese glanced back under her arm and noted that Sultan was keen on staying close. Justin had the reins loose around the colt's neck which told Reese the big black was finally relaxed enough to rate. He was on the improve that was for sure. She could hear the thunderous hoof beats of Para just farther back. That one was at the top of her game. Pride soared down the final hill, launching his body a foot until his hooves hit flat earth. Reese let the colt go, but both of them were shell-shocked for the moment when Sultan was suddenly by their side. The black horse stormed to race at Pride's head, gaze furious and determined. Justin was still aboard the black demon. Pride pinned his ears and rallied furiously to keep up. The pair of them whirled across the turf, locked in war. Maggie released Para the moment she hit the flat, shaking her head when the filly responded with a ferocious run. The bay caught up with the two younger horses in the second furlong, drawing level with them on Pride's side. Together, the trio bulletted toward the finish. All the riders were silent and still. No one wanted to interfere. Para snagged the win by a head with Pride and Sultan finishing dead even. Justin smacked Sultan's neck, pleased with the effort. They were definitely going to be able to beat the red colt soon. Sultan was only bound to get better. |
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