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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"This is going to be a fun workout," Reese said as she tightened the girth on Spotlight Pride's saddle. The lean chestnut colt twitched beneath the tack, but didn't fly off the handle as he'd used to do. The Deathflash's Pride colt had come a long way since the beginning of the season. Reese patted the horse's neck, smiled when he turned to look back at her with his signature white rimmed eyes. The eyes always made him look slightly wild. It was an over-exaggeration as the colt was not the ferocious stallion he was expected to be. He was a cool horse, wildly fast, but definitely not ferocious or bullish. "In fact, outside of racing my dear Pride, you could be called a coward." The horse snorted as if in disbelief and his attention swiftly moved from his rider to the shadowy form at the entrance to the barn. Reese laughed, "Typical man." She too turned her gaze to the entrance, cocked a brow. "I take it you're ready to roll?" The winner of last year's Breeders' Cup Juvenile Turf looked ever the ominous opponent. The Devil's Hourglass had her mother's coltish frame, her father's savage head and her own personal vendetta to finish. Several second and third place finishes sat between her powerful victory in the Universal Cup. The time was ticking and the dark bay filly was more than ready to take back her crown. Her trainer was eager to get her proud personally bred filly to the winner's circle again, just once before she retired for good. Ripley's green eyes flashed from the shadows, irritable as usual. "Ready when you are." Reese nodded, clicked her helmet strap together and guided Pride into the weak winter sunlight. The copper colt glowed in the sun, eyes sweeping over the snow covered terrain. He snorted, waited patiently for Reese to mount up before parading down the track. He was as on his game as ever. He would have to be in order to take down the AJC Sires Produce Stakes. The ten furlongs was nearing his distance limit, but he was bloody fast enough to win. They'd have to keep up to take him down. Everyone knew where Spotlight Pride was going. To the front and never looking back. Hourglass was not quite as fast as Spotlight Pride, but she was known for some speed. She'd stolen the Belmont Turf Classic on the front end and was not against running away with her races. She'd been under prepared for the Flower Bowl, but would not be so for the World Filly Cup. It could be the race to reassert Hourglass as the top turf three year old in the nation. Ripley badly wanted the race, but it could be just a stepping stone to the year end goal of the Breeders' Cup Filly and Mare Turf. Ripley patted the filly's neck as she stepped onto the dirt, ears flicking here and there. She had never disliked the surface when forced to work over it and her gallops were sometimes significantly better over it than the turf. Perhaps, a surface change would be called for as a four year old... Stranger things had happened. The pair of horses broke off into long striding canters. Hourglass snorted fiercely, tail flicking over her rump. She was all business on the track. She'd once been extremely hard to control, bloody fast as a juvenile and fearless. Now she was a professional. She knew her job. She was the class with the speed of sprinters. If there was any horse Ripley wanted under her in a race, it was this one. Ripley nodded to Reese, made the call. "Five furlongs, breezing." Reese let the reins out, smiled when her handsome juvenile scooted into a fast gallop. The horse had the quickest break of any other horse on the roster, besides Cross. He was a lean, mean machine. Pride was known as one of the toughest horses to beat in the juvenile circuit. He never had quit and when he lost, he gutted the victor. She admired the horse's hard trying attitude. He was as gutty as they came and this workout would set him up for his toughest test yet. Hourglass and Pride galloped in tandem over the dirt course, each lining out like greyhounds. Hourglass' ears were pinned to her neck while Pride's stood up like towers. He was an easy going horse, knew the difference between gallop and workout. Hourglass was on the ball from start to finish. Reese would enjoy playing with the dark bay filly, but wondered if she would be the one laughed at in the end. Ripley kept her hands light on the reins as Hourglass quickened down the stretch. The filly didn't need someone in her mouth, it made her obstinate. She was the kind of horse you left alone because she was just the good, just that smart. Her big loping strides covered the ground impressively and even though Pride was faster, she seemed to just have that extra power. The woman leaned close the filly as she shot through the first furlong, glanced back to keep tabs on Pride. The chestnut colt was tucked in at Hourglass' haunches. He looked like he was relaxed and right exactly where Reese wanted him. She was intent on keeping pressure on Hourglass, but the filly was just doing it so easy. Reese was happy with the way the colt was moving. He was just loping so prettily alongside Hourglass. Man he had some speed, but that speed needed some guidance. Now was the time to learn. The Kentucky Open was the destination and his speed would need to be contained in order to get ten furlongs. This was practice for that big race just as much as for the Kentucky Open. The horses charged into the turn, hooves churning up the course. Pride moved up to the filly's throat latch, his brown eyes flashing with enjoyment. The horse was so enthusiastic and he was just so much fun. Handy as hell was how Reese described him to other riders. He was there no matter what you needed. Reese wanted to see what the colt would do with a poor break. She thought he could handle it. He was becoming a partner in their journey, less so than the #1 star. Pride and Hourglass swung into the stretch, legs flying beneath each of them. The riders were quiet as the horses soared down the stretch, listening to their breathing, their thunderous hooves. There was nothing like riding on an empty track. The horses cruised through the wire, Hourglass a half length in front, her ears pricked. Nice and easy would get them to the winner's circle. The big races were calling their names. The hourglass was tipping toward their time in the spotlight. The only steadily raced two year old in the entire set would be Spotlight Pride. The leggy chestnut colt stalked around beneath Reese Balling Jones with a confused glint in his gaze. He wasn't used to wandering around, waiting for his competition. Ripley kept a strict workout schedule that most everyone adhered to if they wanted to keep their job. Reese's dark eyes flashed to the two year old barn, eyes full of irritation. Her horse was not one who took an interruption in routine well. Laura flew around Queen's Honesty, hands working to tighten leather and gear as quickly as possible. A half hour she'd been in bed, certain her workout wouldn't come til later. Ripley apparently had changed riders on Honey without telling anyone. Maggie had originally been set to ride the excellent bay filly, but something hadn't clicked between the two in gallops. Laura was the appointed rider after having ridden Whipped Cream, a relation of Honey. Laura could only think of one thing that had determined the switch. Honey was stubborn and ferocious. Such traits were family traits, but Laura could harness them and make them a benefit. Justin mounted Nocturnal Runaway in the barn, appreciating the silver filly's perfect body type. She was an agile thing, sleek as a fish and handy as hell. He adored the filly and knew eventually, she'd get back to winning races. She had the family to make a mark on racing. Though there had been no wins since Noc joined WCS, the filly's out of the money finishes had stopped. Now she was making ground and had only just missed to Proteus Prince, an upcoming dirt horse himself. The riders hustled their mounts through the barn doors, nodding briefly to an agitated Reese. Spotlight Pride huffed at the sight of the competition, tail twitching uneasily. He wasn't one for crowds, but these two were a welcome sight. Casualty of War was an enemy so these two could hardly be worse than that muscular dark bay. Being the senior member of the team, Reese relayed workout information to the riders. Ripley would be waiting in the three furlong gap, waiting for her plans to be well executed. Pride danced beneath Reese, eyes rolling white with excitement. He was on the muscle and absolutely dying to roll. Reese let him leap into a trot, restraining him to only a trot. "Mile and an eighth gallop up to the three furlong flat. Gotta prepare them for their races." Queen's stocky body bounced over the ground in barely controlled excitement. She was getting some work finally. A real work. "Boy, you are definitely like Rea. I'll give you that." The powerful two year old was very much like grade one winning Whipped Cream. She had hidden strength, ferocious movement that betrayed the power to onlookers. She was no Honey. She was a Queen. Laura let the reins skip through her hands as the bay took up alongside Pride. Her white-rimmed gaze matched the spookier colt's gaze with ferocious determination. Neither ducked away from the challenge. Reese believed that was an improvement on her athletic creature. He used to be spookier than crazy. Now he was as confident as the next two year old... at least to some extent. Justin had his hands full of vibrant horse. Nocturnal Runaway bolted into a canter, controlled down to teacup steps. The Night Stalker daughter was full of fight after her latest loss. It spurred her on to greater gallops, fiercer times, tougher battles. Noc snorted profusely with every stride, eyes blazing with fury. She looked a lot like Saintly Touch, with a compact body and powerful legs. Justin leaned close as the filly tackled her first hill with interest. Justin gave her a little pat at the top of the hill, steadied her and then prepared for the rest of the workout. Spotlight Pride buried Queen's Honesty off of the first hill, legs skimming over the course with ease. He was a fireball over this particular course, relished the need for speed and the lack of it. Pride leaped over the grass, focused to a "T," tongue bouncing with his lengthy strides. Reese felt more confident than ever on this colt. He'd earned his time off and was coming into the Tri-State Futurity than any other race. It made her confident for down the road. The Breeders' Cup was two months away and he was improving, if there could be improvement, at the right time. The bay daughter of Truth Be Told vigorously tracked Spotlight Pride, ears pinned back into her neck. She had a great cruising speed, something she'd shown in every start. She had a way about her that made you think star. Though she hadn't broken her maiden yet, Queen's Honesty was on the verge of making it big. Laura tucked her hands into the whipping black mane, feeling more confident as the bay settled into her powerful stride. She was a length and a half behind Spotlight Pride, gaining ground on the hills. Not as daring on the downward slopes, Queen's Honesty made up for it in the short valleys. It was like sitting in the captain's seat aboard Nocturnal Runaway. She glided over the course under control and full of energy. Her ears flicked over her head as though she was just out for a jog. She was a confidence instilling creature. Beautiful and talented. He let his hands skim down her sleek neck, smiling as she kicked up the final hill of the gallop. It was almost time to let that passion burn. And there was passion, a big bucket that wanted to wash away the competitors. Justin let the filly skip down the hillside after her opponents, letting her have her head. She charged off the hillside, pushing off menacingly and in a couple strides was up to Queen's Honesty. Laura's eyes grew grimmer, but Queen cleared them within a matter of seconds. The bay launched forward, spurned by the competition. She flew over the course, tail streaming behind her. The two fillies swarmed up on either side of Spotlight Pride, nearly stunning the runaway leader. The three horses soared over the course, head to head to head. It was a fierce battle for the line and no one was going down without a fight. Nocturnal Runaway and Spotlight Pride gradually turned away Queen's Honesty, more experienced over the rolling hills. Laura was impressed by Queen. She didn't fade hard. She still fought gamely even in face of defeat. Laura chalked it up to inexperience over the course. Pride gutted out a win, eyes furious that Noc had put him through an acid test. Who was she to suddenly be competitive with him? Few had managed to take him down and now this gray filly thought she could. Justin was happy with the effort for Noc had only lost by a head to the best turf miler two year old in the country. They were making strides and it was nearly time to make a claim for a win of their own. 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. 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. |
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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