"Look at you, two yearling mounts in one day," Mal joked, slapping Justin on the back. "I don't know what that says about our yearling stock since we need to call in the big guns to handle them." Ripley snorted from her position against the stall wall. Her hands rested on her belly, but her eyes never left the dark bay filly standing between the cross-ties. She had a vested interest in this horse. Every year, Ripley took in a couple horses from Intrepid Racing and brought them to the highest levels. Faith would be her next Intrepid horse next year. And hopefully in Year Sixteen, Faith would bring the Turf Triple Crown back into Witch Creek. The star and striped face turned slightly to the right, angling her sharp eyeball in the direction of the trainer. Ripley liked the look in this one's eye. She had intelligence and cleverness. She had a discerning look to her as though she knew that today was different. Faith reminded Ripley a lot of Cross My Heart though she would definitely be a different kind of animal on the track. Her body screamed classic distance and while she was fleet in her gallops, she was nothing like the speed demon of Cross. "Needing the big guns is not necessarily a bad thing," Ripley said, stepping up to hold the filly's head. She played with the leathers and then moved her hands to the bit, guiding the filly left and right. Faith responded with a disgruntled snort, but she didn't resist as Uno had to the control on his face. "It means Justin has a job here." Justin laughed, patted the filly's shoulder. "I like her. She'll be nicer than Uno is on the hands. He's a hulk that one. Fillies are always easier." Mal rolled his eyes, knowing how wrong Justin was about to be. Coveted Faith was far from being an easy horse. "Boy, you might have just jinxed yourself." Justin twined black mane around his hands, ignoring the blazing smile on Ripley's face. Whatever problems the filly caused he would be more than capable of dealing with her. Malcolm lead Coveted Faith from the barn, playing with the bit as she started to prance. She bowed her neck, eyes rimming with white as she caught sight of the world around her. She let out a wild whinny when Brooks rode up aboard Jabberwock. Brooks grinned attached a lead rope to Faith's bit, much to Justin's chagrin. The dark bay filly thrashed to the end of the line, ears pinned and mouth agape. The towering Jabberwock moved his bay body alongside her, ignoring her complaints. His five year old brain had long since determined that the yearlings were not exactly bright. Brooks patted the gelding's neck, appreciating his adaptability. Faith snorted, dancing down the path. She'd take large hops and then a couple quick steps. Justin's brows were drawn at these antics. She'd never done them before in her gallops. She was obviously intelligent though. A break in routine had cued her up to the extreme. The beautiful filly ducked out from Jabberwock when she got on the track, nearly pulling Brooks from the saddle. Grunting, Brooks reined her back in and gave Jabberwock his head. Distracted by the other horse's pace, Faith settled along at a jog, head still bowed and knees lifted. Justin patted the filly's neck, standing in the saddle when Brooks leaned down to unclip the lead rope. Faith shied, but only after she was loose. Justin nudged the filly with his knees and let her go. The instructions had been different for Faith than the others. Gallop her a mile, but let her go four furlongs out. He'd wondered at that, but not for very long when considering Faith had the speed of a miler and the stamina of a distance horse. She'd do fine at eight furlongs and it'd give her time to burn off the energy. Faith galloped strongly into the backstretch, ears pinned and tail flying out behind her. She was a tough customer and Justin found he'd been wrong in suspecting her the easier mount. Nope, definitely not. The filly was heavy on the bit and she demanded he release her. Justin snapped the bit in her mouth, sighed when she finally released. Suddenly, Faith became a whole lot more amenable. "There, you see that?" Mal grunted. "He's got her now. She's a bit of a head case at first." Ripley nodded, but disagreed. She'd ridden a head case for three years and Faith was definitely not one. She just had too much energy for her own good. Now, the dark bay filly was cruising along, ears pricked. She clearly was in a comfortable stride for Justin had not moved a muscle since gaining control. The filly wheeled into far turn, switched her leads and cut loose. Justin thanked God that he was wearing gloves when the reins whipped through his hands. He let out a whistle, furthering the filly in her rapid pace. Her legs were a blur beneath her as she dashed through the turn with incredible speed. Justin was smiling like a little kid as the filly stormed down the homestretch. This was an impressive filly. She knew her job and did it as though she were already racing. Malcolm and Ripley were thinking similar thoughts as the filly zipped through the wire. Mal shook his head when Justin snatched up the bit and had Faith shaking her head in fury. "Something tells me that Justin has missed his ladies." "Funny, I seemed to have heard the same thing."
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