"Round Three coming up," Reese called as she tightened the girth. A grumbling assent came from Ripley who was wrapping polos on Mastermind's legs. "Maybe we finally get the better of you, Marsh." Ripley laughed as she stood, turning her sharp gaze to the flea-bitten gray. "You can try, but, unless she's a disguise for Forbidden To Fly, you aren't going to." Reese shook her head, trying to hide her smile. Sometimes her and Ripley got along. Most of the time they didn't... at least on a personal level. Many of Ripley's professional training calls fell right in line with Reese's own beliefs. There were very few times Reese had disagreed with the auburn-haired woman. "So what do you think decides who wins Sprinter of the Year?" "Honestly, I think the voters will. It's like both Fly and Mastermind go to separate Breeders' Cup races. Mastermind simply runs best at a mile and Fly simply runs best at less than that. Unfortunately, most of the mile races are over so we're in his house." A wave of frustration swept through Ripley's body. She was tired of getting beaten by Stride Of Perfection Stables and their meddling gray sprinter. She wanted that horse to step into the ring and take on Mastermind at distances longer than seven furlongs. It had happened very few times this season and Mastermind simply could not beat the animal at shorter distances. Reese felt a similar frustration toward Anodyne. Only it wasn't just Siri that was getting beaten by the bay Intrepid colt. It had been In Front too. The handsome bay colt had run a hard season in Year Fourteen and was now being freshened for an older horse campaign. It wasn't fair to run him into the ground and hope he didn't start tailing off of top placings. He didn't deserve that. He was too good a horse to waste time chasing more precocious three year old colts. Reese shook herself. Who was she? Justin, Brooks? Did any of the three beings have anything to do with today's workout? NO. The South American woman lead the lean gray filly from the barn, appreciating the pep with which Supernatural moved. She had turned around quite nicely after being backed to the shorter distances. She'd been taken out of her element in the eleven furlong Consumato Derby, but now she was back within her preferred range. The Risorgimento Derby was beckoning her with a very promising prize if she won. Siri would be the first horse of Witch Creek's to defeat Anodyne. That was more than worth a trip over the classic distance of ten furlongs. "We're going to stalk Anodyne until we can stalk him no more. Then we'll pounce, darling," Reese crooned as she mounted Siri. The gray filly dipped her head, mouthing the bit as she took in the sight of her familiar foe. She seemed to be thinking, him again? Mastermind gleamed in all of his copper glory, head turned away from his workmate toward the dirt track. His ears were pricked and his eyes were very bright. He looked as content as a horse could be. He was a brilliant horse, the only horse to be able to capture The King's Bishop twice. He'd done it as a three year old and had gutsilly done it as a four year old. Twenty eight victories was nothing to sneeze at, especially when he'd only run for two and three quarter seasons. Ripley was so ridiculously proud of her mount, so impressed with the way he had grown up. Never had he once been a disappointment. He'd had a rough go of it in the beginning of his three year old season, but he'd more than made up for it as an older horse. His next start in the My Trusty Cat Stakes would be a stepping stone to his final goal: The Breeders' Cup Dirt Mile. The Breeders' Cup would be a fabulous culmination to an outstanding and otherworldly career. Ripley hoped the swell animal received his praise and accolades, but for now it was one race at a time. The pair of horses strode down the track, muscles pumping beneath shimmering hides. The early morning light welcomed the thoroughbreds into the chaotic world of Witch Creek at 6 A.M. Uno Momento and Awestruck galloped heartily down the center of the track, really getting into the exercise. Casualty of War and Vagabond were pulling up along the rail, snorting fog out of their nostrils. Malcolm walked the newbies Miss Josephine and Queen's Honesty just outside of the rail, showing them the way Witch Creek worked. Ripley could absolutely say she had died and gone to heaven looking at the magnificent horseflesh on the track. And this was only the dirt guys. Mastermind broke into a gallop first, more than on the muscle after a week break. The chestnut horse moved mightily over the dirt, ears pricked and eyes bright. He was a happy soul and one of the most willing creatures to work. Ripley kept a light hold on the bit, reminding him ever so often that she was still present. "Four furlong breeze. Aim for :50. Lots of time to get speedy come race day. Want them fresh, not exhausted." Siri disagreed heartily with the last statement, flinging her head high and throwing a fit at the restraint. Used to being allowed to fly, Siri rejected the idea of controlled speed. She dogged Mastermind through the first portion of the work, ears pinned and mouth agape. Ever the pro, Mastermind simply flicked his ears at her and failed to go on. Squealing like a yearling, Siri attempted to bully Mastermind, pushing the chestnut toward the rail with impressive force. Reese yanked the right rein, pulling the Dylan Himself filly off of Mastermind. Ripley gritted her teeth when Siri drew off of Mastermind. She was a pest. A fleet-minded runner if there ever was one. When she was on, she was dead on. It appeared her focus was only dedicated to racing in actual races. Reese scrubbed on the gray mare on the far turn, shaking her head when the horse easily switched her leads. She was a fleet-minded animal with the smoothest action of a true runner. The Dylan Himself filly pulled on Mastermind then. The gallant chestnut horse was loping easily as though this were a walk in the park. Ripley flung herself forward into the homestretch, signaling to the Speed Demon horse that it was game time. He hurled away, kicking up massive clumps of dirt in his wake. Supernatural flew up to him, gangly legs spreading out beneath her with grace. She was a nice filly to watch because of her ground eating stride. She was tough and beautiful in motion. The filly and stallion rolled down the stretch, full of confidence and energy. Ripley slapped Mastermind's neck as he danced beneath the line. "Very good, big man." Siri skirted around the older horse, eyes glowing brilliantly. She was more than ready for the Risorgimento Derby. Her mind-set was going to be completely different come race day. Reese could hardly wait to let her fly.
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