"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?
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Liquid dark eyes spared back at Brookson Wells from between the bridle. Determination, intelligence, class, brilliance all co-mingled in the gaze and seemed to bore the blond haired man. He wouldn't have applied these traits to this particular animal at one point, but ever since his return from break... things had changed. Optimus Unstoppable, the adept son of Shiver Me Timbers and Train Wreck, had been breaking the stall walls down within three weeks. He'd had enough of vacation and had become more of a hazard to himself than anyone. He'd been stuck back in training and was more en pointe than he had been at any time this year. Brooks was eager to get back in the saddle and gun the stout colt down the stretch at Green Horse Fields. His grade three win was beckoning him. Hopefully, they would notch it. Ripley could feel the excitement in the air as Brooks pulled Optimus out of the barn and joined herself and Laura Decomte. The auburn haired woman sat astride her coy seal-brown colt and felt like an army general. Saintly Touch was developing a commanding attitude, one that was bound to be noticed on the track. He'd grown some over the course of the season and looked more like his sire, Night Stalker, than any Night Stalker prodigy Witch Creek had housed before. Vana's baleful gaze swept over the two colts without much interest. She wasn't as excitable or exhilarating to look at as they were, but she could hold her own on the track. She was almost grade three and was a typical DeComte mount, Laura thought. An underdog rising to the highest ranks, faster than the blue bloods. Of course, the exception was Sun King, but he was virtually Vana's mirror on the colt side of things. The blaze marked filly flicked her tail as the colts marched by, ears flicking as if she wasn't keen on joining them. A nudge had her moving forward, letting out a sigh of discontent. The trio stepped onto the track with Optimus in the lead. The blocky colt was a speed freak in his workout assignments but come race day, Brooks knew exactly when to snatch him up. Optimus could be turned from front runner to closer in a matter of seconds. He was an awfully handy sprinting horse to have around. Brooks allowed the colt to step out into a lope and then a gallop, keeping pace as much as he could with Ripley. Saint skipped over the course, mane and tail flying as he galloped. He was a rock solid horse, tough as nails with a grinder's style. He had this way that just instilled confidence in the onlooker and one could make an argument that he was the third best dirt colt in the country. The two above him, Great Revenge and Sun King, were precocious, but did they have what it takes to last through a grueling three year old season. Ripley knew the son of Devil's Touch had it in him. He was a champion at heart and he would prove it to everyone within the next couple of seasons. Nirvana settled in behind the two colts, ears bobbing above her head. She wasn't a filly for sprinting ahead with the colts. She preferred to stalk, settle and catch the kill when it had already depleted itself of much needed energy. Laura kept her hands at the filly's withers, eyes glued to Optimus. When Brooks told that speed crazy son of a gun to go, he would go. And that would be when it was time to pick it up. Saint could fool you into thinking he was doing :24 when he was actually doing :22. Optimus was coasting down the backstretch, moving powerfully. Brooks was immensely impressed with what he felt under him, glanced under his arm to check for Saint. The seal-brown colt loomed at Optimus' hip, but was just an ominous presence. He was Optimus' shadow while Nirvana stalked five lengths back. Optimus would have to be absolutely tough to nail down a win in the workout today. Ripley was also liking what she felt under her. Saint was literally and figuratively a dark horse. He was not the big standout at first, but he had a presence unlike any other. Ripley lifted her hands up his neck as they moved into the six furlong breeze and the near black colt drew up to Optimus' barrel. Laura took her previous thought about Saint back. She'd saw the signs and let Vana go, smiling when Optimus leaped into action a second later. "Let's make those boys meat." Optimus bolted into the far turn, hooves pushing off the ground with exuberance. He enjoyed the run, thrilled at it. He hadn't thrown Saint off by any means for the near black was at his throat latch and gaining. For all of these horses, light bulbs had come on in the final half of the season. Saint's dished head drew even with Optimus, surprising both Brooks and Ripley at his agility on the turn. Ripley snuck a pat, kept her gaze ahead for all the thrills. Nirvana roared off the far turn in all out pursuit, snorting with every leaping stride. Laura was absolutely stunned breathless by the turn of foot she had just experienced. The bay filly had practically swallowed the existing space between her body and the colts' in a second. Laura sent the stocky horse down the center of the track, eyes gleeful. Saint pulled to the lead when Vana rocketed up to his outside. He'd been caught off guard to say the least, but he'd rebounded beautifully. Optimus was no longer a threat. He was a trier, but this six furlong on top of the gallop was not his exact cup of tea. Brooks was impressed still when the bay colt was only beaten a length by the long distance dirt horses. He may not be stayer of the year, but he sure was game as hell. Saint'd held off the flying chase of Vana, but he continued marching along impressively through the gallop out. He'd had enough of close finishes and didn't see how just barely winning was fun. The blaze faced filly had given him a good scare. She was multiple-graded stakes winner and at this point more precocious. He'd learned never to underestimate a challenger, no matter where they came from in the herd. 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. July Week Fouruneasy peace"Don't get in her way, Brooks. She's very quick on the go and she pulls hard. She'll collect in your hands, but don't get her too forward..." Brooks sent a side-glance in Laura's direction as she paced around the barn and around Dirty Diana. She was like a mother hen with this mare. And here Diana was, just edgy as can be as her normal rider danced around like a whirling dervish. The mare nickered nervously as Laura stopped mid-pace and eyed her. "Why aren't you saying anything Brooks?" Laura hissed irritably. The blond man looked completely at ease as he adjusted Dirty Diana's bridle. The gray filly leaned into the more relaxing touch, keeping a keen eye on Laura for a hint of trouble. Laura took a deep breath at the look, rolled her shoulders. "Because Laura... you look like a nervous wreck. I'm not going to break her on you. Trust me. Di's been pretty sturdy so far despite being shifted around. She's as solid as a rock thanks to you." Laura eyed him warily. He shrugged. She was either suspicious of him or outraged. She was very much like the woman he was dating. The heart-breakers and hard-luck girls always seemed to join together in some way. "I promise I won't get in her way." That promise seemed to be enough because Laura was turned around and working on Vana before he could blink. He was actually quite eager to pit these two horses against one another. Both were very strong closers, but they had extremely different styles. Nirvana was a stout grinder who kept coming and coming, but needed plenty of encouragement. Dirty Diana, who had demonstrated in her recent start, was an explosive type of filly. She was daintier, but finally reaching the expectations that had been set by Akita Rose Stables. Brooks liked Dirty Diana's type of horse. She reminded him a lot of Ashes to Ashes, but she came from farther out. Nirvana was a source of absolute calm underneath Laura's hand as she guided the bay filly from the barn. The Gold Storm daughter was not a reflection of her rider. She existed in her own pool of collection and wisdom. She was Laura's rock and Laura wanted to do right by the blaze-faced filly. She wanted success for her project, for her first two year old horse ever. They had stalled a little bit in the win category, but Vana was as consistent as can be. Her more daintier opponents were precocious, but in the future they would have to be on look out. Vana was still maturing and her attitude was at a level of professionalism that the others' simply were not. The riders rode quietly down the path. Laura swayed to the easy-going stride of Vana while Brooks posted to Di's fleet-footed jog. Di was not one for slowing down. She was on the track minutes before Vana, circling and doing figure eights beneath her temporary rider. She looked fantastic and Laura knew she'd done right by asking Brooks to take over the reins for this workout. Vana moved into a heavy canter once she hit the dirt track, snorting at first. She was a tank, solid and powerful. She was efficient and confident. She cruised when Diana surged to her side, ears pinned and mouth agape. Diana could be so competitive sometimes. Brooks' hands were quiet at her withers, letting the mare have her head. The gray horse settled into stride, finally pricking her ears as she galloped into the backstretch. Vana settled back, not intimidated, but unwilling to keep pace with the All For Glory mare. Diana was more mature. She simply was too strong to go head and head. Laura grinned as Vana trucked willingly at Di's haunches, neck bowed and ears playing. She was well within her capabilities. The filly's dark eyes scoped out the track, taking in everything with her go-with-the-flow attitude. Boy, this mare was something awesome. Brooks hadn't known until Diana's start how fiercely she was training. He felt it now, coiled like a rattlesnake ready to strike. The mare kicked into another gear, quickening upon asking. He sent a quick glance at Laura. Perhaps she was more rateable than Laura had let on. Laura was keeping secrets. At the quick move, Laura knew her secret had been given away. Laura went to the whip the moment Diana set foot in the turn. Vana reacted with pinned ears and a swift stride. She pummeled the earth beneath her in pursuit of Dirty Diana. The gray roan was cruising effortlessly, tail flying behind her, ears pricked above her slim head. She was enjoying the run. Brooks was still above her. Brooks wondered at the mare's brilliance, could see why Laura was continually bringing up the idea of keeping her in training next year. The mare improved with every stride she took, growing stronger and stronger on the bit. Laura whirled Vana to the outside, thrilling at the fury that coursed through the Gold Storm filly. Once again, Vana was finding herself out paced. This time she would not go down a loser. The blaze-faced filly rumbled up to Diana's outside, not even reacting when the older mare pinned her ears. The horses charged down the course, nearly mirror images as they found the horse more challenging than expected. The pair bolted through the wire. Diana pulled herself up, eyes furious when Vana broke Laura's command and continued to stroll on by. The two year old was not going to go down without a fire, the farther the better. Her opponents were going to have to deal with her at some point... perhaps sooner than expected. steal the lightIt was hard to believe it had been three months since she'd last worked Vagabond. He was her Michael Jordan and he'd been sitting on the sidelines since May while everyone else was running to magnificent victories. That would all change now because Bond would not be catching a break until January of Year Fifteen. Maggie's blue eyes pivoted from the grooming tools to the dark bay colt standing between the cross-ties. His body rippled with muscle and his coat gleamed after a week of baths. He'd been a dirty pasture pet for a month and a half. Once Maggie had started working him again, the pasture pet had vanished and in his place stood an athletic machine. While Sun King and Saintly Touch were stealing hearts on the track, Maggie believed the best two colts had been sitting on the sidelines. Reese was following along with that vein of thought as she guided a cloth over ruby red hide. Spotlight Pride looked nothing short of the streaking miler he was. No one could catch the horse on the turf. He simply out-sprinted the fastest horses and out-lasted the ones with the most stamina. Today would be testing for him because he would not be the only speed horse and Vagabond was classy enough to catch him. Reese patted her sleek colt after pulling on her helmet. She adored Pride and trusted him to carry her through whatever storm awaited them. Spotlight Pride danced uneasily in the cross-ties, sweat filling the empty space between his hind legs. It was hard to believe that this was the battle-tested two year old who would face down dragons and demons. She smiled at Maggie. "He doesn't look like much, does he?" "He looks like the bane of Brooks and Amarillo's existences today," Maggie replied. Reese laughed. It was true. Amarillo Sky was nearly as uncontrollable as Spotlight Pride on the lead. The bay son of Augusto was a head-scratching, do-it-yourself, my-way-or-the-highway kind of horse. Pride was lenient if asked gradually for a slackening of speed. Brooks would have his hands full to say the least. The five year old stud was a time bomb waiting to explode and his recent losses were only going to fuel the fire. And the fire is raging, Brooks thought as he egged the stallion closer to the two year old barn. Amarillo Sky danced furiously beneath him, shoed hooves causing sparks to fly. His eyes blazed with fury and annoyance. His tail whipped back and forth, leaving welts on Brook's jeaned legs. Ripley sat quietly in the golf cart, eyes narrowed on the Augusto horse. Brooks knew what she was about to say and he smirked when her lips parted. "Yup, he needs a hard workout today." "He needs a gut-check," Brooks said through gritted teeth. Ripley hid the smile as the bay stallion reared and bolted three feet. He was a crazy horse. The horse slammed to a stop, ears pinning back at the sounds of other hoof beats. He spun, nearly throwing a tiring Brooks to the ground. "Don't you worry 'bout a thing," Reese crooned, "I've got just the horse to give your wild stud a gut-check." Maggie hung back, didn't bother hiding her laugh when Pride skittered away nervously. No, Maggie thought, Pride wasn't much of a brawny boy now, but he'd be something amazing on the three furlong flat. Ripley waited for the attention of her jockeys to return to her before giving orders. "Because we all know how this is going down, I will keep it short. Reese, try your damndest to get Pride relaxed and just off Ram's haunches. I want Ram to get his exercise, but we won't sacrifice Pride to do it. I expect you to attempt some control, Brooks, but if he fights let him go. We are not out to take away his speed. And if he wants to run uncontested do it. Just hang on. Maggie, keep close and start pushing up the last hill. Not enough to cause him to stampede down the other side, but enough to wake him up. Mile and a quarter gallop. Work 'em the three furlong flat. Under :12 second furlongs people." The riders exchanged looks as the auburn haired woman powered away on the golf cart. Like they would expect anything less out of Ripley Marsh. She knew they'd get the horses running. As one, the team turned toward the track and set the horses down into nice comfortable canters. Amarillo Sky bounded along with his neck bowed, snorting through his nostrils. He was such a monster. Brooks sincerely hoped that Ripley planned on keep the stallion in training for Year Fifteen. He was going to come into his own soon. The Augusto horse was training better and racing better with every start. The longer he ran the better. Pride and Bond settled into stride behind the exuberant stallion, ears flicking and eyes sweeping the green hills. Bond was so confident, so in the bridle even now despite looking around. Maggie had never felt better on a horse. On this horse, Maggie could conquer the world. Hopefully, the racing world would be watching his next couple races. Bond was only getting better. He rolled over the hills with ease, relaxed even when Spotlight Pride broke away to press Amarillo Sky. Maggie kept quiet, knowing the horse needed nothing until the final hill. Reese kept her hands at Pride's withers, breathing slow breaths. The chestnut two year old was settled at the older horse's hip. Not quite taking it to him. Amarillo Sky's left ear was locked on Pride though. The big bay stallion was well aware of his inside competition and he was most definitely not happy with the circumstances. Brooks jerked the right rein when the horse practically turned sideways to flash his teeth at Pride. The younger horse stuttered, nearly stumbling before bolting off. "Shit!" Reese muttered wildly under her breath. The Deathflash's Pride colt hurtled over the turf, now going head to head with a pumped up Ram. She could practically hear the snickering coming from the Augusto stud. He'd wanted to intimidate Pride into running and he had. Now both horses would pay the price when Bond rolled right on by. Maggie watched with wide eyes as Ram and Pride barreled over the hills ahead of Bond. The big bay two year old moved easily, quickening to stay in contact. She was impressed that he moved so effortlessly even at the faster pace. They would have to work harder to catch the speed balls. Ripley's plan had just about gone up in smoke. Brooks did not gather in the reins. Ram's best weapon was his fantastic cruising speed. Brooks would not take it away from the well-bred colt. If he did it would be as though he'd released the hounds of hell. Ram rolled impressively up the final hill, gathering steam despite nearing the grueling portion of the workout. It was a compliment to Pride that the chestnut was sticking with the more mature animal. Reese knew she was on a fantastic animal. No other horse would still have this much energy at the end of such a brilliantly fast gallop. She felt as though she were sitting on a keg of gun powder. Pride was on the muscle and he didn't bother to slow up much on the way down to the three furlong flat. Nimble where Ram and Bond were not, the miler colt skipped down the hill and onto the flat nearly a length and a half ahead of Amarillo Sky. Brooks allowed the reins to fly and sicced Amarillo Sky on the youngster. There hadn't been much of an option. The bay horse flew over the course, ears pinning back into mane. He was battling head and head with Pride long before the first furlong was finished. Maggie was feeling the same way as Brooks at this point. Bond needed to run to come out on top of this one. She'd been pushing him since the beginning of the last hill. He was absolutely revved and it showed in his bold strides. He was a large horse with a great big stride and he covered ground impressively. Maggie glanced up just in time to realize, Bond was about to run over Ram. With a flick of the reins, the bay colt skipped over the older horse's hooves and rolled alongside him. "Holy shit!" Ripley shouted from her side-line spot. The Winged Heir colt bounded right on by Amarillo Sky and Spotlight Pride to steal the victory by a half-length. She saw the shock in Reese and Brooks' bodies when the bay two year old continued on like it was nothing. Maggie smacked Bond's neck, thrilling at the adrenaline and power. "Wow big horse." Reese stroked Pride's neck, gasping for air. Her colt had done everything but win. Brooks sent a sideways grin her way. "I do believe that's the first time either of these horses have been headed in a workout." Reese smirked, "Means they'll be ready to roar next time out." "That's the plan." optimum secrecySilence was not an easy thing to come across at Witch Creek Stable unless you were up at the crack of down or roaming around in the middle of the night. Reese wondered many thing about Ripley's head these days, the most poignant thought had to do with training Taboo. The sleek gray filly was the most easily unnerved horse on the roster. She was never without sweat, never without a nervous tic of eyes or hooves. And for some reason on this very day, Ripley Marsh wanted the most nervous filly out of the barn in the middle of the afternoon when trailers were coming and going. Taboo's dark eyes traveled back and forth warily over the action going on in the transport circle. Saintly Touch, Sun King and Dirty Diana were returning from the tracks, all crowned winners in awe-inspiring performances. Taboo let out a wild whinny, shifting rapidly underneath Reese. Reese took a calming breath, forced the feeling down the leather reins and into her wily mount. Taboo was never going to be quiet and she was never going to be absolutely relaxed. She was the stereotypical hot-blooded thoroughbred. Reese just had to get used to it. The woman turned the dappling filly in a circle, nodding to Brookson Wells as he rode out of the shadows aboard Optimus Unstoppable. Small though he was, Optimus looked the picture of absolute health. His small white glinted beneath his well-braided fore-lock and his body gleamed like oiled wood. The Shiver Me Timbers colt would be heading to the Tick Tock Sprint, the first leg of the Triple Sprinter Crown, and he was carrying the hopes of Witch Creek with him. He was no Mastermind, but his season so far had been impressive, especially considering he'd only been a winner of one race coming into Year Fourteen. Brooks looked like a proud papa atop his thick freight train. He was developing Optimus into something Kirsten Jade with Akita Rose Stables would have been proud to race herself. Optimus touched noses with Taboo, not rattled at all. He was an uppity horse himself, but at home, he was different. Brooks liked the confidence that rippled through Optimus, poured out of his body. The horse was coming into the first leg really well and had not missed a single beat in training. The blond man patted the colt's neck, nodded to Reese. "She tell you what we're doing today?" "Nope," Reese said. "Or why she wanted the most frantic horse out in the middle of the day." Brooks rolled his eyes after he passed the woman. Sometimes Reese was a bit bullish, but she had to agree that nearly 99.99% of the time Ripley was correct. He'd come to accept this fact a long time ago. "Anyway. She wants a mile gallop and a four furlong breeze. Nothing too fast as both of these guys are hard-wired to explode at any moment." Optimus pranced animatedly onto the track, dark eyes brightening at the sight of the galloping yearlings, Uno Momento and Lady Timeah. He pulled fiercely on the bit, found resistance and relented. Brooks rewarded the colt by releasing him at the moment, grinning when the colt moved into a strong gallop. It would have been stronger if he'd released when Optimus had pulled. Reward to the bad behavior. Taboo danced sideways as the bay colt bounded away. The whites of her eyes flashed anxiously, but her muscles were revving up for a fight. Reese let out a breath and placed her life in the filly's hooves. Like a flash, Taboo was flying and catching up to Optimus. Her strides were as smooth as lemon meringue and just as graceful. She had this ethereal feeling and a sense of calmed seemed to take over the Everyday Hero filly. It was a very redeeming quality. Reese couldn't imagine what Taboo would be like to ride if she was a headcase in full flight. Brooks gritted his teeth as he fought to rein in Optimus. The bay colt could move when he wanted to, displaying a moment of immaturity. He'd been converted into a closer the last two starts, but only because Brooks sat heavy in the saddle and forced the colt to break a step slow. When a horse rushed up on him, the game was over. Brooks snapped the bit in Optimus' mouth, sighed when he finally regained control and Taboo took over the lead. Her thin tailed waved in the wind tauntingly at Optimus as she cruised down the backstretch two lengths in front. The bay colt snorted with every leaping stride, intent on letting Brooks know how much he disagreed with the tactics. Brooks could have cared less. He was simply happy the colt was rating well. Optimus' ears pricked up after two furlongs of steady running. No longer did he press furiously into Brooks' hands. Now he was in the bridle, but just enough to let Brooks know he had more horse. Reese knew she had plenty of horse. Taboo was on cruise control heading into the far turn. Her black-tipped ears bobbed over her head and Reese could hear every soft hoofbeat. Tabz knew she was about to be released, her body had tightened reflexively into the turn. She switched leads on command, nearly in sync with her rider. Reese let out a quiet breath before letting the reins soar through her fingers. Time was up. Four furlongs were left. Taboo whirled over the course, kicking up dust and dirt in her wake with powerful strides. She was nearly level to the ground by the time she hit mid-stretch and now a stunning five lengths ahead of Optimus Unstoppable. Reese peeked under her arm, saw Brooks push Optimus forward mildly. Her brows quirked in surprise for she had not yet asked Taboo for her best. "What the hell," Brooks murmured as Optimus thundered through the dusty wake. Taboo had practically been a mirage, there when far away and gone when they were right on top of her. She was floating over the course while Optimus barreled along on loud hooves. The little engine that could rolled over the course, ears pinned back in wild mane, mouth agape. He could not catch her and he would not at this rate. The sturdy bay cut into her lead, but was a length behind at the wire. Brooks had stopped urging the colt on, but now asked him to go on by a cantering Taboo. The horse picked up an intense gallop, bulletting by the two year old and taking his wrath out on the soil. He was not used to the front-runners going on with it. And he was not going to allow it to happen again. Reese watched as Optimus roared into the backstretch again, hell-bent on exorcising Taboo from his presence. She patted the filly, was stunned again when she found no sweat. Tucking down, Reese could hear no heavy breathing. Taboo trotted gracefully back to the gap, tossing her head excitedly. After all that exercise, the filly wouldn't have blown out a candle. July Week Threespeed, speed and more speed"We seem a bit like the underdog in this one, Vana," Laura murmured as she adjusted the bridle on Nirvana's head. The Gold Storm filly was standing quietly in her stall, wise eyes staring straight into Laura's blue ones. The filly was an odd sort of horse. She was calm, quiet, collected, but on the track she could be downright fierce. She was one of the most impressive closing fillies on the racing circuit with enough heart for three horses. She just couldn't connect with the wire first. Laura adored Nirvana with all of her heart, feeling as though this filly was cruising under the radar. A snort drew Laura's gaze out of the box stall to the chestnut horse between the cross-ties. An answering snort and stomp sounded down the row. Oh yes, compared to the colts at Witch Creek Stable, particularly these colts, Nirvana was definitely the underdog. Sun King and Saintly Touch were both winners of four races, but they were demanding of their audience and competition. Sun King had recently been termed a monster and Saintly Touch had simply been beautiful in every race he ran. It was going to be a crash course for Nirvana, but Laura knew the thick filly was up to it. Sun King's eyes blazed into Brooks' as he pulled on his helmet. Energy coursed through the man's body and left him bristling. This colt was something else. He was tough and fierce, physically fit and thick. He just had this arrogance and ferocity that was different than anything Brooks had ridden before. King knew how impressive he was and he never missed a chance to flaunt it. The colt switched his tail over his haunches, stomping his hooves in impatience. He was tired of standing around. Ripley pulled her gloves on, green eyes flicking over Saintly Touch's body. His body was nicely dappled out, his muscle showing beneath glossy hide, and his one seeing eye gleamed softly. Saint was not King in terms of temperament, but what lurked underneath the colt's glossy good manners was a demon wanting to be freed. She stepped up the colt, running a hand down his shoulder, smiling when he nuzzled her arm. He was growing more affectionate every day. "We'll go six furlongs workout. Only a half-mile gallop lead up. If they were to gallop out powerfully, let them. It's time to get serious." Brooks laughed at Ripley as he led King by. "Yeah, all of that stuff before was just play." Laura cocked a brow at the pair, feeling like a third wheel. "They may not notice us now, Vana, but they will." Vana snorted, standing still as Laura mounted up in the barn. The blaze faced filly stared after the colts as they left the barn, ears pricked and eyes bright. She stood still though, a partner to Laura, and waited until her cue was given. The stout filly strode out of the barn, only moving into a trot when asked. King and Saint burst onto the track before Vana was halfway down the path. Neither colt was a fan of the other so ears pinned and eyes blazed in fury when they were together between the gap. The horses looked like compete opposites, light vs dark, but their attitudes became similar in the wide open space. Sun King flashed his teeth. Saint flashed his flint-like hooves. The colts broke into barely controlled canters up the track, kicking up dirt in their wake. Ripley and Brooks were completely still on the colts, peering backward to make sure that Vana was following. The blaze faced filly slammed into gear the minute Laura dropped her to the rail. Her mahogany colt glinted in the early morning light as she burst through the crowd of birds gathered in a puddle. The birds flew off with insulted squawks, but Vana didn't pay them any mind. Her attention was drawn to the flying seal brown and chestnut colts. The reins were taunt in Laura's hand and the rider was impressed. Usually the two year old wasn't into the bridle this early. She might have been intelligent enough to understand what Ripley had spoken. Laura slipped her gloved hand down to pat her neck, beyond amused and ready for the stretch run. Sun King blazed through the backstretch, head high and tail in the air. He was an absolute powerhouse in full flight, his muscles really showed beneath his glistening golden hide. To Brooks, this horse looked beyond wonderful even from on his back. It was a testament to Saintly Touch's talent that he was hanging at Sun King's hip. The woman aboard the near black colt was thinking it was more than just talent. Saintly Touch had grit and courage. He was a grinder and more than a handful for the chestnut Native Flame colt. Saint's left eye was filling gradually with fury after every passing furlong pole. He wasn't making his move just yet, but he would not allow this bigger colt to get away with murder. Pressure was key and Saint knew how to apply just the right amount of pressure. The Night Stalker colt loomed at King's shoulder as swept into the turn. He made the executive decision to push King right down to the rail, his heavier muscle making its first appearance on the track. It was funny that he pulled the same trick as The Devil's Touch and The Devil's Hourglass. A family trait that was beyond useful. Laura and Vana watched the chess game playing out in front with intense eyes. Vana had been long since warmed up and now she was really pulling Laura into the turn. It was time to let her go. Throwing the reins at Vana's neck, Laura released her stout filly on the big boys, grinning when she blazed trail in the four path off the turn. A crowd had gathered at the rail to watch and everyone pointed in near unison at the ballsy move of Nirvana. The bay filly roared down the stretch, body stretched to her greatest advantage. She bore down on the boys, switching easily over Saintly Touch's heels. Sun King pinned his ears at the sight of the filly on the far outside, furious that he was being pushed so recklessly. Brooks was shaking his head in defeat, but he stopped when he realized his chestnut colt was responding to the dual challenges. Saintly Touch could not see Nirvana, but he certainly could feel her. Ripley did not stop breathing when King and Vana pinned her seal brown colt in between them. All three hides touched, but Saint did not become intimidated. Instead he bullied his way through the pinch, fighting fiercely. The two others went with him in a desperate rush to at least finish in a tie if they couldn't get a win. The trio landed on the wire together, barely separated by any physical part of the body. The riders let out excited hoots and high-fived as their horses continued to truck into the first turn again. A perfect workout for what promised to be an impressive second half of the season. simply superiorReese had looked at the white board this morning in surprise and unease when she saw the second workout pairing of the day. Supernatural, Reese's beautiful filly, would be taking on none other than the nearly unbeatable Mastermind. Reese could only question Ripley's reasoning with this one. She adored Supernatural, but never in her wildest dreams did she think the gray compared to Mastermind, Ripley's protege. The Speed Demon stallion was sensational this year and he had always been, but he was more sensational than in his previous years. Reese called Siri her 'Steady Eddie.' The Dylan Himself filly could be brilliant and gutsy, but she did not possess the wow factor. If the gray filly won it was because of her grit and determination not because she was infinitely more talented than the rest. Reese patted the gray nosed filly, smiling into chocolate-colored eyes. Siri was a traditional dirt horse and she was a consistent one at that. She only ranked third in the three year old fillies division behind Battle Wings and Reflected In Water. Her ranking had been hard fought against the boys for the majority of Year Fourteen. She was back against those same males in the Easy Goer Red Mile and this time she was joined by Battle Wings. Reese looked forward to the race. If Ripley believed a workout with Mastermind would set Siri up for a rousing victory, by God, Reese would send her gray against the hulk every day of the week. Ripley patted 'The Hulk' after she tightened the girth one last notch. The elegant chestnut stallion quivered with excitement, flashing an affectionate glance in Ripley's direction. Their partnership had been smooth from the get-go and it seemed the only place to go was up. The gleaming horse paraded out of the barn, head high, whinnying as he emerged from the barn. Several heads picked up in the pasture, ears pricked in Mastermind's direction. Ripley smirked, patted the horse and jumped onto his back. The horse pranced briefly, but his attention soon diverted to Supernatural. Reese was already mounted, letting the reins swing down around Siri's neck. The filly strode by Mastermind as though he weren't even there. She had purpose and was acting on it. She was a grinder type filly, but she worked as hard as possible for every victory. Reese liked how Supernatural had turned out, appreciated the dirt filly's honesty. Most horses weren't nearly as honest. Mastermind stalked after Supernatural, ears pricked on her lean form. She was a competitor and he was assessing her. His ears flicked back when Ripley jerked the bit in his mouth. He'd been pulling heavily to stay within range of Supernatural. Siri always bolted the minute she hit the gap and Mastermind would not be bolting with her. Ripley's green eyes flashed when Mastermind defied her momentarily, reminding her that she needed to ask not demand. Demanding got nowhere with this marvelous Speed Demon stallion Reese leaned forward just as Siri expectantly darted forward. Her feet slammed into the dirt fiercely, ears slamming against her neck. It was all for show. Siri was not a serious runner at first, She waited and waited until it was time for the homestretch. That was part of the problem. If she didn't focus immediately on this certain task, Mastermind would leave her six feet below the ground. Reese glanced under her arm, smiling when Mastermind blew by. The chestnut horse was on a mission. He'd obviously sized up the competition and agreed with Ripley's plan of attack. Ripley would never get over this horse. He was her big one, bigger than his dam, though she had more of Ripley's heart. He'd been her partner for the last two and a half years and she would not fail him. The same thing went for the legendary horse. He was indeed becoming legendary on the track. There was no doubt in Ripley's mind that he could join El Sol Del Mar in the Hall of Fame one day. It would be the icing on the cake for her star horse's career. He had nothing left to prove. Everything here on out was for fun and the horse's enjoyment. Reese could tell Mastermind was playing with Siri despite his fast pace. He was a brutal runner and he definitely would not take any prisoners. Her was merciless and spared no feelings. Siri, who normally had her ears up and playing at this point, was far more interested than usual. She'd never faced an opponent who had given her no leeway. Her ears were pinned against her neck and her dark eyes were flashing with irritation. Her pace was strong and her stride long. She was fluid as ever, but her intensity was as thick as the humid summer air. Reese kept the reins loose despite the change. Siri was in the bridle and ready to roll when called upon. Mastermind cruised over the dirt course, muscling his way forward with power. The star-marked stallion was taking the six furlong workout very seriously. Ripley's hands would have been burning if she wasn't wearing gloves. He was just that strong today. His next start in the Penn National Derby would not come soon enough. Reese shook the reins at Siri the minute Mastermind took a step into the far turn. This is where the horse threw off his competition like bugs. Siri responded, throwing her body into the movement and nearly tearing the reins through Reese's fingers. Her sleek gray form streaked over the course, cutting the turn precisely and making up two lengths on Mastermind. The Dylan Himself filly wheeled off the far turn, ears pinned and body tense. Reese was impressed with what the filly was showing her. She was showing her drive and competitive fire. Ripley did not have to glance under her arm to know Siri was breathing down Mastermind's neck. The gray filly was rounding back into form and she'd grown tired of being the bridesmaid in every race. Ripley urged Mastermind on with slight nudging, grinning when he responded with another gear. Siri was a thorough grinder though and Mastermind could not shake her loose. Reese mildly urged the filly on with her body movement and chirps, smiling when Siri reached Mastermind's neck. The two horses rolled through the wire with Mastermind being the clear winner. Reese was laughing like a loon by the time they pulled up. Siri had pulled a beautiful workout out of her hat and she was ready to take on the best of her generation, fillies or colts. Ripley could only think that Mastermind was the best of his generation. She stroked the horse's satiny neck, dreaming of what was still to come. |
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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