Two Year Old Boosters
The Devil's Hourglass& Prima Donna. Supernatural& Flashpoint. Paranormal Hunter& Alucard.
shot of espresso
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
Robin egg blue sky surrounded the brilliant green pastures of Witch Creek Stable. The body of water that the grounds were known for glimmered like shattered diamonds as it swelled up and over the mossy rocks in the bed. It was a peaceful scene, one that prompted to doves to take flight from their nests and fly lazily about as if there was no purpose in the day. It was not a scene that meshed with neither Justin's nor Ripley's attitude on this particular day. Justin swayed irritably aboard the tall, beautifully athletic Prima Donna. Her exotic head swung side to side, large brown eyes taking in her surroundings with anxiety. She could feel her rider's irritability through saddle and reins. She stretched her legs out, trying to rid herself of the feeling, but it simply wasn't working.
The more explosive Hourglass loosed a guttural neigh, breaking the sense of peace and quiet. The daughter of The Devil's Touch was not one for entering an event quietly. And it was some sort of event. People lined the rails of the private training track, eyes shielded against the sun. Today's planned workout had turn into a circus and not because of Ripley. Justin glared down at the track, flowing with Prima when she bolted sideways at the sight of a plastic bag. Clint was so stupid for turning this into an open house! Justin stroked Prima's sweated neck, feeling the lean muscle beneath all of the glittering hide. Honestly! What kind of stunt is this?
A stunt to prove that I'm back in action. Ripley's green eyes glittered with fury. The press had been after her for quite sometime lately. Criticizing every move she made and following her handling of Mastermind with a vengeance. The colt had run fourth and last in a prep for the Triple Crown. His detractors had come out in droves, hawking for more negative stories. They'd found one in her two year olds. Last years two year olds had been out of this world good. Only one of them remained grade four. The rest were at least grade three level. This year Ripley had only managed to train horses for a few wins. Prima had finished third in her last race and Hourglass had really not been to the track that often at all. The press expected her to be like her dam, a mirror image, but only because they looked so alike. The first daughter of The Devil's Touch so far had been a disappointment. To the press at least. Not to Ripley.
The tough-minded filly glided over the path with the sureness of a much older horse. Fire glowed in those dark eyes and pulsed through the coltish muscle in her chest and shoulders. Hourglass was more of a late bloomer than her mama and even then not really. She wasn't undefeated like The Devil had been for a time. No Hourglass was beatable, but only because of inexperience. Ripley guided the filly through the gap and onto the track. Dirt training was going to help her, balance her out and give her more strength for the end of the turf races. It would help both her and Prima Donna.
Hourglass stopped suddenly in her tracks, turned toward the people lining the rails and loosed a scream that sent chills down the riders and the grudging spectators. A returned scream was returned by DW Flamekissed. The bay stallion was cantering up and down his fence line, ears flat in his mane looking for the challenger. Ripley grunted, tossed the reins and sent Hourglass cantering. Prima Donna bounded over the dirt surface ahead, strides large and hooves quiet. She moved like a predator, stalking and confident. She was not fazed in the least by Hourglass' performance. Hourglass was not above vocal intimidation. If Prima could talk her motto would be "actions speak louder than words."
Justin was supremely impressed with Prima. The Royal Assault daughter was everything he'd dreamed of. She was classy, strong, opinionated and had endless talent.The lighter colored bay marched with all of the confidence in the world, strong even when she was flighty. Her strides lengthened beautifully over the course, her body spreading out like that of a greyhound. Justin could feel the shimmer of power and thought she was one of the most deceptive horses in the barn. She didn't have that domineering prowess that Hourglass could stake a claim for. Rather she was elegantly demure until she really got running.
Hourglass lumbered alongside the lithe Prima Donna. Her strides were heavy and threatening, her angled head tilted in the direction of her competitor. In the pastures, Prima was a friend. On the track, Prima was a mortal enemy. Ripley curled over the rounded neck of her newest partner. Hourglass was brutally strong. She held onto the bit with all of her might, focused on the job at hand, paying no mind to Ripley at all. She rounded the turn with dynamic precision, neatly cutting Prima Donna off by swinging toward the rail. Justin gritted his teeth, pulling his larger mount up and shook the reins.
The exotic filly soared, streaking up to Hourglass' side of the backstretch with as little effort as possible. She moved over the dirt like molten lava, covering it with such fluidity she might not have been moving at all. Hourglass' nostrils flared, taking in the scent of her rival. The dirt was more her friend than it was Prima's. Ripley knew that if she could tap the right system, Hourglass could be a very potent dirt horse in the future. A light nudge forward and Hourglass rumbled ahead by a neck, then a half-length. She was strong and powerful, tough and enduring. When Prima bolted into her shoulder, she might as well have it an inanimate wall for all Hourglass showed.
Justin straightened his temperamental minx out, grunting when Hourglass barely moved from the force. Both of the fillies were tough, but Hourglass really had that trait in spades. The kid dropped the reins then. But where Hourglass had mental toughness, Prima had pure, uncontrolled speed. She burst forth with such a swift kick that it nearly sent Justin to the back of the saddle. Her stride lengthened further and she drew level again with Hourglass, then ahead. The bay filly rocketed over the dirt, throwing Hourglass off for just a moment. Prima rolled forward like a jet, sending clouds of dust up in their wake and neatly burying Hourglass into the turn.
Ripley took her stouter filly back out of the dust, letting her catch a breather, but making sure to stay close to the rail. Saving ground against Prima Donna meant everything. The rival filly had the speed of ten horses, but she could not save ground like Hourglass could. Hourglass' side seemed to glue itself to the rail, keeping just a slight gap for Ripley's leg. For all of the filly's hate toward her partner, Hourglass sure knew to take care of her. Ripley let the reins slide between her fingers as they straightened into the stretch. Prima was three lengths ahead, bounding along like a horse not yet used up. If they had any hope of catching her it was now. Ripley let out a shout, pushed forward on Hourglass' neck and sent The Devil's daughter running.
Justin didn't have to watch Prima's ears to know that Hourglass was coming. It was inevitable. Hourglass had more gears than most older horses did. She could shut down then turn it up a notch a second later. Justin glared, leaned close and kept his hands still. Prima sprinted up the track, responding to the sound of her rival. She was bloody fast and could hold off any challengers she chose to. But Hourglass was a different story, especially on dirt. A grin was spreading itself across Ripley's face when her monster filly roared down the center of the racetrack, two lengths, one length, a half length and a neck behind Prima Donna.
Prima snorted in shock, buried her ears in all of her black mane and bolted. She had to maintain the advantage. Justin's filly had raw speed and a beautiful heart. She flew for him as they neared the wire, gutting it out against her most potent rival. She maintained the neck advantage, strides lengthened to the maximum proportion. Justin glanced under his arm at Hourglass. The filly was a bay dragon, snorting and putting up the grandest of fights. But Ripley wasn't moving and a lot of the filly's courage had to do with her rider's determination. Justin was more than sure Hourglasss had another gear to drop in.
Justin pushed with his hands, expertly picking the right moment to tap into Prima Donna's reserve of late speed. The bay filly shot forward with a last ditch effort beneath the wire, eyes glinting with satisfaction. She had beaten Hourglass when it counted the most. Justin brought her back to earth just before Hourglass stormed away. Her strides were quick and sure. She thundered over the course in a pure demonstration of masculine power. Ripley wasn't moving a muscle on the proud filly. Justin shook his head. That one would always have an extra gear or two. It was unavoidable.
But we beat them today Prima. No doubt about it. There's nothing like a mock race before the next big day. Prima collected up beneath him. Her strides swung cockily over the terrain and her head was once again tilted with nostrils flaring. She paraded along the rail, acknowledging her public before bolting through the gap in a collected canter. The spectators murmured about the brazenness of Prima. Her mother had never been so outright arrogant. Perhaps the filly would be better for it. They turned away from the princess of a filly and eyed the times then the filly that remained on the track. The Devil's Hourglass glided over the track, bullish neck twisted to watch the infield as if she could go around again. She trotted close to the rail silent as a hawk compared to her thunderous running style. What struck the spectators most was that the filly wasn't even breathing hard. They had not seen the best of her yet.
The more explosive Hourglass loosed a guttural neigh, breaking the sense of peace and quiet. The daughter of The Devil's Touch was not one for entering an event quietly. And it was some sort of event. People lined the rails of the private training track, eyes shielded against the sun. Today's planned workout had turn into a circus and not because of Ripley. Justin glared down at the track, flowing with Prima when she bolted sideways at the sight of a plastic bag. Clint was so stupid for turning this into an open house! Justin stroked Prima's sweated neck, feeling the lean muscle beneath all of the glittering hide. Honestly! What kind of stunt is this?
A stunt to prove that I'm back in action. Ripley's green eyes glittered with fury. The press had been after her for quite sometime lately. Criticizing every move she made and following her handling of Mastermind with a vengeance. The colt had run fourth and last in a prep for the Triple Crown. His detractors had come out in droves, hawking for more negative stories. They'd found one in her two year olds. Last years two year olds had been out of this world good. Only one of them remained grade four. The rest were at least grade three level. This year Ripley had only managed to train horses for a few wins. Prima had finished third in her last race and Hourglass had really not been to the track that often at all. The press expected her to be like her dam, a mirror image, but only because they looked so alike. The first daughter of The Devil's Touch so far had been a disappointment. To the press at least. Not to Ripley.
The tough-minded filly glided over the path with the sureness of a much older horse. Fire glowed in those dark eyes and pulsed through the coltish muscle in her chest and shoulders. Hourglass was more of a late bloomer than her mama and even then not really. She wasn't undefeated like The Devil had been for a time. No Hourglass was beatable, but only because of inexperience. Ripley guided the filly through the gap and onto the track. Dirt training was going to help her, balance her out and give her more strength for the end of the turf races. It would help both her and Prima Donna.
Hourglass stopped suddenly in her tracks, turned toward the people lining the rails and loosed a scream that sent chills down the riders and the grudging spectators. A returned scream was returned by DW Flamekissed. The bay stallion was cantering up and down his fence line, ears flat in his mane looking for the challenger. Ripley grunted, tossed the reins and sent Hourglass cantering. Prima Donna bounded over the dirt surface ahead, strides large and hooves quiet. She moved like a predator, stalking and confident. She was not fazed in the least by Hourglass' performance. Hourglass was not above vocal intimidation. If Prima could talk her motto would be "actions speak louder than words."
Justin was supremely impressed with Prima. The Royal Assault daughter was everything he'd dreamed of. She was classy, strong, opinionated and had endless talent.The lighter colored bay marched with all of the confidence in the world, strong even when she was flighty. Her strides lengthened beautifully over the course, her body spreading out like that of a greyhound. Justin could feel the shimmer of power and thought she was one of the most deceptive horses in the barn. She didn't have that domineering prowess that Hourglass could stake a claim for. Rather she was elegantly demure until she really got running.
Hourglass lumbered alongside the lithe Prima Donna. Her strides were heavy and threatening, her angled head tilted in the direction of her competitor. In the pastures, Prima was a friend. On the track, Prima was a mortal enemy. Ripley curled over the rounded neck of her newest partner. Hourglass was brutally strong. She held onto the bit with all of her might, focused on the job at hand, paying no mind to Ripley at all. She rounded the turn with dynamic precision, neatly cutting Prima Donna off by swinging toward the rail. Justin gritted his teeth, pulling his larger mount up and shook the reins.
The exotic filly soared, streaking up to Hourglass' side of the backstretch with as little effort as possible. She moved over the dirt like molten lava, covering it with such fluidity she might not have been moving at all. Hourglass' nostrils flared, taking in the scent of her rival. The dirt was more her friend than it was Prima's. Ripley knew that if she could tap the right system, Hourglass could be a very potent dirt horse in the future. A light nudge forward and Hourglass rumbled ahead by a neck, then a half-length. She was strong and powerful, tough and enduring. When Prima bolted into her shoulder, she might as well have it an inanimate wall for all Hourglass showed.
Justin straightened his temperamental minx out, grunting when Hourglass barely moved from the force. Both of the fillies were tough, but Hourglass really had that trait in spades. The kid dropped the reins then. But where Hourglass had mental toughness, Prima had pure, uncontrolled speed. She burst forth with such a swift kick that it nearly sent Justin to the back of the saddle. Her stride lengthened further and she drew level again with Hourglass, then ahead. The bay filly rocketed over the dirt, throwing Hourglass off for just a moment. Prima rolled forward like a jet, sending clouds of dust up in their wake and neatly burying Hourglass into the turn.
Ripley took her stouter filly back out of the dust, letting her catch a breather, but making sure to stay close to the rail. Saving ground against Prima Donna meant everything. The rival filly had the speed of ten horses, but she could not save ground like Hourglass could. Hourglass' side seemed to glue itself to the rail, keeping just a slight gap for Ripley's leg. For all of the filly's hate toward her partner, Hourglass sure knew to take care of her. Ripley let the reins slide between her fingers as they straightened into the stretch. Prima was three lengths ahead, bounding along like a horse not yet used up. If they had any hope of catching her it was now. Ripley let out a shout, pushed forward on Hourglass' neck and sent The Devil's daughter running.
Justin didn't have to watch Prima's ears to know that Hourglass was coming. It was inevitable. Hourglass had more gears than most older horses did. She could shut down then turn it up a notch a second later. Justin glared, leaned close and kept his hands still. Prima sprinted up the track, responding to the sound of her rival. She was bloody fast and could hold off any challengers she chose to. But Hourglass was a different story, especially on dirt. A grin was spreading itself across Ripley's face when her monster filly roared down the center of the racetrack, two lengths, one length, a half length and a neck behind Prima Donna.
Prima snorted in shock, buried her ears in all of her black mane and bolted. She had to maintain the advantage. Justin's filly had raw speed and a beautiful heart. She flew for him as they neared the wire, gutting it out against her most potent rival. She maintained the neck advantage, strides lengthened to the maximum proportion. Justin glanced under his arm at Hourglass. The filly was a bay dragon, snorting and putting up the grandest of fights. But Ripley wasn't moving and a lot of the filly's courage had to do with her rider's determination. Justin was more than sure Hourglasss had another gear to drop in.
Justin pushed with his hands, expertly picking the right moment to tap into Prima Donna's reserve of late speed. The bay filly shot forward with a last ditch effort beneath the wire, eyes glinting with satisfaction. She had beaten Hourglass when it counted the most. Justin brought her back to earth just before Hourglass stormed away. Her strides were quick and sure. She thundered over the course in a pure demonstration of masculine power. Ripley wasn't moving a muscle on the proud filly. Justin shook his head. That one would always have an extra gear or two. It was unavoidable.
But we beat them today Prima. No doubt about it. There's nothing like a mock race before the next big day. Prima collected up beneath him. Her strides swung cockily over the terrain and her head was once again tilted with nostrils flaring. She paraded along the rail, acknowledging her public before bolting through the gap in a collected canter. The spectators murmured about the brazenness of Prima. Her mother had never been so outright arrogant. Perhaps the filly would be better for it. They turned away from the princess of a filly and eyed the times then the filly that remained on the track. The Devil's Hourglass glided over the track, bullish neck twisted to watch the infield as if she could go around again. She trotted close to the rail silent as a hawk compared to her thunderous running style. What struck the spectators most was that the filly wasn't even breathing hard. They had not seen the best of her yet.
focus please
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
Reese and Brooks shook their heads as they trotted down the path toward the dirt track. Both of them had watched the first performance from the barn. It would be hard to follow up on that brutal arrogance expressed by Hourglass and Prima. Not that they wanted to compete with the turf fillies. Their horses were pure dirt horses, plain and simple. Reese graced the back of the doe-like gray filly. A daughter of Dylan Himself, Supernatural was as quiet and cute as could be. She was delicate and completely the opposite of Prima and Hourglass. There was a feminine mystique to her that was expressed in her fleet running style. Reese knew it could take a while for the racing spirit to come out, but she was confident she would find it in this filly soon. She had found it in Bella Luna after all. And they were nearly unbeatable now.
Brooks watched the spectators mill about the dirt track aimlessly. They were growing bored between rides and most of them had come to see Prima Donna and Hourglass. The daughters of Royal Assault and The Devil's Touch always drew the most attention. Both of them had gone off the favorites in each of their races. Supernatural was the longshot and Flashpoint was the half-brother that would have to follow in Fiery Touch's hoofprints to get respect. Brooks patted the strong neck of his dark bay mount. Flashpoint was the toughest horse in the barn. He was strong and eager to please. He was the typical blue collar man in a field of white collar rich girls. He had one of the best records for the two year olds at Witch Creek, never finishing out of the money. Brooks had to admit that he loved being paired up with horses like Flashpoint. They were straight forward and confident and would do anything the heart could desire.
You know most of them will be gone before the third set, right? Reese snorted at him. Yeah I know. Clint was stupid for planning this event. Ripley should have fired him in my opinion... No offense Brooks. Brooks rolled his eyes at Reese and smirked. Even I get tired of him myself Reese and he's my uncle. I'm stuck with him. Supernatural snorted as if laughing and both riders smiled. The gray filly marched confidently ahead of Flashpoint where a few weeks ago she would have nervously jolted along behind. Her confidence was growing and most of it had to do with racing. She'd need the run in the Alphan Derby, even if it had been at the wrong distance. Reese knew that this filly would be better in the long run with every race she ran in. She was a good girl and needed a good background in order to produce the best results.
Flashpoint needed no such background. Where Fiery Touch had taken a while to come into her own, Moose had taken to racing in his first private workout. The unmarked bay was brilliantly fast and he could carry his speed up to nine furlongs and maybe beyond. But that was getting ahead of themselves. Flashpoint did need the background in order to set himself up for later exploits. Brooks guided the workmanlike bay through the gap and sent him into a strong canter-gallop up the homestretch. Supernatural glided alongside them, her strides effortless and full of grace. She was a looker and a talented one at that. She just needed the right guidance to fully show her racing talents. The pair marched up the track, strides matched closely with Flashpoint expending slightly more effort to keep up.
The riders were motionless and confident. They let the horses do the talking. Supernatural wanted to do a little more than Flashpoint at this time. She played with her leads, swapping back and forth, and tossed her ears. Reese perched over her withers, letting her play. The real running was just around the turn and Reese trusted her to know when to make the switch. Flashpoint stretched himself out on the inside, letting his coarser body gain its rhythm. Moose was very in-tune with himself which made him a dangerous opponent. Sometimes older horses didn't even know themselves as well as Moose did. He skirted the rail into the turn, swapping leads right on cue. Brooks leaned closer, fingers twitching with eagerness. This horse just wanted to be run.
Supernatural's ears flicked as Flashpoint picked up pace to their inside. Reese pursed her lips humorously. Siri was a very curious filly and naturally interested in her competition. She took a deep breath as if the effort to keep up would cost her her valuable playing time. Reese niggled the reins, thrilled in the fact that Siri picked up the correct lead. She danced forward on thin limbs and kept pace with Moose. The strong bay colt pinned his ears when the gray came to him but otherwise did not acknowledge her presence. Brooks appreciated the bay colt for his honesty. He didn't play games like Hourglass or Mastermind. Brooks didn't get along with either of them.
The pair cruised up the backstretch, again making the lead swaps on cue. Supernatural angled her body out, easily keeping track of Flashpoint to her inside. Reese grinned maniacally. This was the first time Siri had indicated any wish in going faster than her competition. Her only win had been by accident. Brooks could feel the threat rising on the outside. Flashpoint still maintained his solid pace, eyes forward and focused on the task. He was not interested in Siri's threat, but Brooks was. The filly had displayed an innate ability to run every quarter of a race faster than her last. And it was always that way. Supernatural had demonstrated this well-timed ability in all of her races so far. It was impressive to say the least and she didn't even know what she was doing yet.
Reese leveled the filly straight again, keeping her from leaning on Flashpoint. The dark bay whipped over the track with ease, well confined and collected. He was ready to rock and let it loose. The two year olds flirted briefly with the turn. Siri went back to playing briefly though she did acknowledge Reese enough to get her correct lead. Flashpoint finally took notice of his rider and his competitor. Brooks niggled the reins then, sent him forward.
Flashpoint tackled the terrain like a lion, bounding forward like a professional into the straightaway. He was strong and built. He was ready to move. He extended his neck out, power flexed its muscle beneath his hide. The half-brother to Fiery Touch was no baby. He was trained in his thinking to fly. He surged over the course breaking away from Supernatural to rumble up the track. He drew attention due to his large stride. For such a small colt, he had a tremendous stride on him. Brooks simply sat there, listening. The threat had backed off a little bit, but he wasn't sure. Siri was going to jump and surprise them all at some point. It was just a matter of time.
It was only Reese's hands that were keeping the slim gray filly in check. It surprised her to find this much energy waiting in the wings. Usually Siri had extended herself too far by the time they reached this point. But here they were and Siri was really pulling at the bit. Reese chewed her lip. If she released her Siri could do something devastating, but then Flashpoint would get nothing out of the workout, but a taste of defeat. A conundrum flickered through Reese's brain, but the decision was made without her. Siri had had enough. With a surprising move, the Dylan Himself daughter gripped the bit between her teeth and dashed forward. Her strides quickened and lengthened at the same time and she quickly closed the gap between herself and Flashpoint.
Brooks glanced up in shock when Supernatural glided into view. And boy, did she glide. It was as if she had been picked up and carried by a cloud to the lead. She poked a nose in front and switched her lead like a pro. Her ears were lost in her silver mane and she proceeded to put on a show. Reese was motionless in shock when the filly danced right on by Flashpoint with ease. Brooks shook the reins, awakening Flashpoint from his own shocked stupor. This was no time to fall asleep at the wheel. Come on boy! Flashpoint whipped forward, pushing off of his muscled haunches. Siri was three measured lengths in front and Flashpoint was gaining on her. Brooks' eyebrows drew together. Siri was coming back to them quickly, her strides playful and slow. Flashpoint blew by her effortlessly, his ears flicked as though he was looking for the challenger.
Reese nearly laughed in her exasperation. Supernatural gave up the minute Reese gained hold of the reins. It was as though she'd been deflated like a balloon. Reese chuckled, threw the reins back until her pinkie held them and sent the filly flying forward. Supernatural turned it on, bolting sideways to avoid Flashpoint's dust and still was closing quickly despite the sudden loss of ground. Brooks jolted when Siri came to them again. The gray was tossing her ears back and forth, playing even while she gripped the bit. Flashpoint dashed beneath the wire a nose in front, but could do nothing more than watch Siri glide away from them in the gallop out. Someone had given her wings. Flashpoint tossed his head in irritation, muscled his way forward but the race was over. He would live to fight another day.
Siri was seven lengths in front when Reese gained control of her. Just like before, she collapsed inward. Reese had found the trick to get her moving in her next race.
Brooks watched the spectators mill about the dirt track aimlessly. They were growing bored between rides and most of them had come to see Prima Donna and Hourglass. The daughters of Royal Assault and The Devil's Touch always drew the most attention. Both of them had gone off the favorites in each of their races. Supernatural was the longshot and Flashpoint was the half-brother that would have to follow in Fiery Touch's hoofprints to get respect. Brooks patted the strong neck of his dark bay mount. Flashpoint was the toughest horse in the barn. He was strong and eager to please. He was the typical blue collar man in a field of white collar rich girls. He had one of the best records for the two year olds at Witch Creek, never finishing out of the money. Brooks had to admit that he loved being paired up with horses like Flashpoint. They were straight forward and confident and would do anything the heart could desire.
You know most of them will be gone before the third set, right? Reese snorted at him. Yeah I know. Clint was stupid for planning this event. Ripley should have fired him in my opinion... No offense Brooks. Brooks rolled his eyes at Reese and smirked. Even I get tired of him myself Reese and he's my uncle. I'm stuck with him. Supernatural snorted as if laughing and both riders smiled. The gray filly marched confidently ahead of Flashpoint where a few weeks ago she would have nervously jolted along behind. Her confidence was growing and most of it had to do with racing. She'd need the run in the Alphan Derby, even if it had been at the wrong distance. Reese knew that this filly would be better in the long run with every race she ran in. She was a good girl and needed a good background in order to produce the best results.
Flashpoint needed no such background. Where Fiery Touch had taken a while to come into her own, Moose had taken to racing in his first private workout. The unmarked bay was brilliantly fast and he could carry his speed up to nine furlongs and maybe beyond. But that was getting ahead of themselves. Flashpoint did need the background in order to set himself up for later exploits. Brooks guided the workmanlike bay through the gap and sent him into a strong canter-gallop up the homestretch. Supernatural glided alongside them, her strides effortless and full of grace. She was a looker and a talented one at that. She just needed the right guidance to fully show her racing talents. The pair marched up the track, strides matched closely with Flashpoint expending slightly more effort to keep up.
The riders were motionless and confident. They let the horses do the talking. Supernatural wanted to do a little more than Flashpoint at this time. She played with her leads, swapping back and forth, and tossed her ears. Reese perched over her withers, letting her play. The real running was just around the turn and Reese trusted her to know when to make the switch. Flashpoint stretched himself out on the inside, letting his coarser body gain its rhythm. Moose was very in-tune with himself which made him a dangerous opponent. Sometimes older horses didn't even know themselves as well as Moose did. He skirted the rail into the turn, swapping leads right on cue. Brooks leaned closer, fingers twitching with eagerness. This horse just wanted to be run.
Supernatural's ears flicked as Flashpoint picked up pace to their inside. Reese pursed her lips humorously. Siri was a very curious filly and naturally interested in her competition. She took a deep breath as if the effort to keep up would cost her her valuable playing time. Reese niggled the reins, thrilled in the fact that Siri picked up the correct lead. She danced forward on thin limbs and kept pace with Moose. The strong bay colt pinned his ears when the gray came to him but otherwise did not acknowledge her presence. Brooks appreciated the bay colt for his honesty. He didn't play games like Hourglass or Mastermind. Brooks didn't get along with either of them.
The pair cruised up the backstretch, again making the lead swaps on cue. Supernatural angled her body out, easily keeping track of Flashpoint to her inside. Reese grinned maniacally. This was the first time Siri had indicated any wish in going faster than her competition. Her only win had been by accident. Brooks could feel the threat rising on the outside. Flashpoint still maintained his solid pace, eyes forward and focused on the task. He was not interested in Siri's threat, but Brooks was. The filly had displayed an innate ability to run every quarter of a race faster than her last. And it was always that way. Supernatural had demonstrated this well-timed ability in all of her races so far. It was impressive to say the least and she didn't even know what she was doing yet.
Reese leveled the filly straight again, keeping her from leaning on Flashpoint. The dark bay whipped over the track with ease, well confined and collected. He was ready to rock and let it loose. The two year olds flirted briefly with the turn. Siri went back to playing briefly though she did acknowledge Reese enough to get her correct lead. Flashpoint finally took notice of his rider and his competitor. Brooks niggled the reins then, sent him forward.
Flashpoint tackled the terrain like a lion, bounding forward like a professional into the straightaway. He was strong and built. He was ready to move. He extended his neck out, power flexed its muscle beneath his hide. The half-brother to Fiery Touch was no baby. He was trained in his thinking to fly. He surged over the course breaking away from Supernatural to rumble up the track. He drew attention due to his large stride. For such a small colt, he had a tremendous stride on him. Brooks simply sat there, listening. The threat had backed off a little bit, but he wasn't sure. Siri was going to jump and surprise them all at some point. It was just a matter of time.
It was only Reese's hands that were keeping the slim gray filly in check. It surprised her to find this much energy waiting in the wings. Usually Siri had extended herself too far by the time they reached this point. But here they were and Siri was really pulling at the bit. Reese chewed her lip. If she released her Siri could do something devastating, but then Flashpoint would get nothing out of the workout, but a taste of defeat. A conundrum flickered through Reese's brain, but the decision was made without her. Siri had had enough. With a surprising move, the Dylan Himself daughter gripped the bit between her teeth and dashed forward. Her strides quickened and lengthened at the same time and she quickly closed the gap between herself and Flashpoint.
Brooks glanced up in shock when Supernatural glided into view. And boy, did she glide. It was as if she had been picked up and carried by a cloud to the lead. She poked a nose in front and switched her lead like a pro. Her ears were lost in her silver mane and she proceeded to put on a show. Reese was motionless in shock when the filly danced right on by Flashpoint with ease. Brooks shook the reins, awakening Flashpoint from his own shocked stupor. This was no time to fall asleep at the wheel. Come on boy! Flashpoint whipped forward, pushing off of his muscled haunches. Siri was three measured lengths in front and Flashpoint was gaining on her. Brooks' eyebrows drew together. Siri was coming back to them quickly, her strides playful and slow. Flashpoint blew by her effortlessly, his ears flicked as though he was looking for the challenger.
Reese nearly laughed in her exasperation. Supernatural gave up the minute Reese gained hold of the reins. It was as though she'd been deflated like a balloon. Reese chuckled, threw the reins back until her pinkie held them and sent the filly flying forward. Supernatural turned it on, bolting sideways to avoid Flashpoint's dust and still was closing quickly despite the sudden loss of ground. Brooks jolted when Siri came to them again. The gray was tossing her ears back and forth, playing even while she gripped the bit. Flashpoint dashed beneath the wire a nose in front, but could do nothing more than watch Siri glide away from them in the gallop out. Someone had given her wings. Flashpoint tossed his head in irritation, muscled his way forward but the race was over. He would live to fight another day.
Siri was seven lengths in front when Reese gained control of her. Just like before, she collapsed inward. Reese had found the trick to get her moving in her next race.
mind your manners
Courtesy of Event of the Year Photos.
Laura sneered as people fled to their cars after Flashpoint and Supernatural's workout. The excitement was over and the murmurings were dying down. The impressive workout between Flashpoint and Supernatural had apparently satisfied the people's need to be nosy. A few stragglers remained and were joined by Ripley. Laura could tell the head trainer knew these folks and was on good terms with them. Her posture was relaxed and free of her cold shoulder. Laura often wondered how many times Ripley would need to flex that chilling muscle in one year. The press had been slightly overcritical. Well, these remaining folks would just have to be given something to brag about. Right Lu? Alucard dipped his head, mouth moving around the bit as if in agreement.
The broad shouldered colt moved with strength beneath her, quiet and calculating as always. He was obedient and strangely unnerving at times, but Laura's outgoing attitude was starting to bring him out of his shell. It was the reason she'd been switched to him and the reason Maggie was watching her like a hawk. The call had been Ripley's and while Maggie believed it was a good idea, the woman still had her concerns. Alucard was a different kind of horse. He was cunning and brilliant. He also had the ability to strike when you least suspected retaliation. So far, however, he was getting along just fine with her niece. Just as Ripley had said he would. The 16.3 hand colt increased his pace down the path into a stalking trot. He kept his head low and his ears pricked, though at moments one ear turned to listen. He took note of the strangers walking around the track and also of Ripley. His demeanor did not change. He was a cold creature. Completely the opposite of Paranormal Hunter.
Stubborn could be broken down into variations. There was rebelliousness, unwillingness, laziness and pure mule-headedness. Maggie glared when Para stopped suddenly, planting all four hooves in the dirt and glaring after Alucard. Her ears were twisted backwards toward the barn and she refused to move. She was a mule-headed creature. Maggie had learned from experience that she simply had to wait out the attitude. Para liked to flex her 1100 lb muscle and obviously, Maggie's 109 lbs was not going to move her. Maggie sat her hands relaxed over the filly's withers. Para's head twisted here and there. She watched DW Flamekissed and Positively Precious race up and down their paddocks. Watched Sincerely Yours guide the uneducated Call Me Crooked from the barn to the turf track for her daily exercise. The two year old gelding was light-years ahead of his former cohorts Paranormal Hunter and Hourglass. His attitude was much appreciated. Finally... Satisfied that she had seen all there was to see, Para stepped out in a lumbering trot after her stablemate who was now gracing the track with his chilly presence.
He just looks too good to be doing just average, Ripley, stated one of the press. I have not seen as physically fine a specimen. Laura nodded to the people in approval. At least they acknowledged the fineness of this crop's quality. Laura knew that Brooks considered this crop subpar behind last years, but honestly, Laura didn't think they were giving these guys much of a chance. She'd been galloping Alucard for a month now and had to admit the colt could really move. He had this big strides and a turn of foot on him that would annihilate even Prima Donna. They'd done just this on several occasions. Laura connected with the Scripture's Sapphire colt and she was determined to let it show out on the racetrack. Ripley nodded to Laura and spoke as the girl trotted Alucard away. Just wait. He's got the talent to do something impressive as well. They murmured in assent, though not truly convinced.
Paranormal Hunter made a less than thrilling appearance. She lumbered through the gap, mouth curling as she caught the scent of a reporter. She curled away from them, round eyes glaring at their appearance. Maggie nodded to them, but she wasn't that much more welcoming. She patted the filly's neck and sent her cantering after Alucard. Para whinnied anxiously and Alucard neighed back in his unusually deep neigh. Laura leaned low over his withers, stretching just as the colt did. Alucard's strides were long and effortless. He rolled with the inner confidence that sought him out only when he was out on the open expanse of the track. Para easily kept up, her strides long and flowing. She was not a slight filly in the least. She was strong and bold and eager to keep up. Ever the tomboy, Para pinned her ears and jolted slightly, knocking Alucard off stride. She was a ferocious filly at times.
The pair rolled into the turn, Lu shuffling Paranormal Hunter just a little wider than she would have gone normally. Maggie compensated by taking the mare back and off of Alucard's side. She wasn't very tactical going forward, but she understood slowing down perfectly. A sarcastic smile glinted across Maggie's features. Para was a bit of a basket case when it came to typical Thoroughbred training. Alucard strutted out ahead, not afraid of going out on his own. He drew away by a length and a half, stride swift and clipped. Laura perched silently, focused though very pleased with the colt's big sweeping stride. He was something else, but like Hourglass and the rest of the Witch Creek crop, he just needed time to come into his own ability.
The fractions increased with every ground swallowing stride that the colt and filly took. It was a devastating performance, a competition, and they put on quite a show. Alucard's mane whipped back behind him as he cranked into the turn, once again carrying Para wide. The burly filly pushed onward though, her head right at Alucard's throat latch. She moved in his shadow, strong and capable and as they drew into the the turn Para lengthened herself out. Maggie shook the reins and set the two year old filly down for the drive. Para moved as if the devil were on her tail, leveling out and storming furiously up the track. A length separated Alucard from Paranormal Hunter now. Maggie dropped her hands to the filly's neck, lips pursed with pleasure. She could really run when she wanted to.
Laura chirped once to Lu. His ears once flicking around, flattened into his mane and he swung violently to Para's outside. His agility was incredible for such a massive body. Laura clung, hands quiet as Lu moved soundlessly up to Para's outside, swamping her when she once appeared so brilliant. Para responded to the challenge, gutting it out and not intimidated in the least. She kept straight and true right up against the rail. No one could match her fury as she fought. Maggie remained quiet though. It was not a real race and she needed something for next time. Alucard rolled on the outside, not tested in the least, but giving as much as he could when placed against what appeared to be lesser competition on the dirt.
Laura felt a hum of satisfaction glide through her veins. This colt was serious. Just like Para. They were going to roll and it was only a matter of time. Silence filled the air as the bays slipped beneath the wire with Alucard a measured neck in front. Para drew off in the gallop out, at peace. Her anger only lasted the length of the stretch. She pulled up hardly breathing from the exertion. Just like Alucard, her time to shine was drawing closer with every stride.
The broad shouldered colt moved with strength beneath her, quiet and calculating as always. He was obedient and strangely unnerving at times, but Laura's outgoing attitude was starting to bring him out of his shell. It was the reason she'd been switched to him and the reason Maggie was watching her like a hawk. The call had been Ripley's and while Maggie believed it was a good idea, the woman still had her concerns. Alucard was a different kind of horse. He was cunning and brilliant. He also had the ability to strike when you least suspected retaliation. So far, however, he was getting along just fine with her niece. Just as Ripley had said he would. The 16.3 hand colt increased his pace down the path into a stalking trot. He kept his head low and his ears pricked, though at moments one ear turned to listen. He took note of the strangers walking around the track and also of Ripley. His demeanor did not change. He was a cold creature. Completely the opposite of Paranormal Hunter.
Stubborn could be broken down into variations. There was rebelliousness, unwillingness, laziness and pure mule-headedness. Maggie glared when Para stopped suddenly, planting all four hooves in the dirt and glaring after Alucard. Her ears were twisted backwards toward the barn and she refused to move. She was a mule-headed creature. Maggie had learned from experience that she simply had to wait out the attitude. Para liked to flex her 1100 lb muscle and obviously, Maggie's 109 lbs was not going to move her. Maggie sat her hands relaxed over the filly's withers. Para's head twisted here and there. She watched DW Flamekissed and Positively Precious race up and down their paddocks. Watched Sincerely Yours guide the uneducated Call Me Crooked from the barn to the turf track for her daily exercise. The two year old gelding was light-years ahead of his former cohorts Paranormal Hunter and Hourglass. His attitude was much appreciated. Finally... Satisfied that she had seen all there was to see, Para stepped out in a lumbering trot after her stablemate who was now gracing the track with his chilly presence.
He just looks too good to be doing just average, Ripley, stated one of the press. I have not seen as physically fine a specimen. Laura nodded to the people in approval. At least they acknowledged the fineness of this crop's quality. Laura knew that Brooks considered this crop subpar behind last years, but honestly, Laura didn't think they were giving these guys much of a chance. She'd been galloping Alucard for a month now and had to admit the colt could really move. He had this big strides and a turn of foot on him that would annihilate even Prima Donna. They'd done just this on several occasions. Laura connected with the Scripture's Sapphire colt and she was determined to let it show out on the racetrack. Ripley nodded to Laura and spoke as the girl trotted Alucard away. Just wait. He's got the talent to do something impressive as well. They murmured in assent, though not truly convinced.
Paranormal Hunter made a less than thrilling appearance. She lumbered through the gap, mouth curling as she caught the scent of a reporter. She curled away from them, round eyes glaring at their appearance. Maggie nodded to them, but she wasn't that much more welcoming. She patted the filly's neck and sent her cantering after Alucard. Para whinnied anxiously and Alucard neighed back in his unusually deep neigh. Laura leaned low over his withers, stretching just as the colt did. Alucard's strides were long and effortless. He rolled with the inner confidence that sought him out only when he was out on the open expanse of the track. Para easily kept up, her strides long and flowing. She was not a slight filly in the least. She was strong and bold and eager to keep up. Ever the tomboy, Para pinned her ears and jolted slightly, knocking Alucard off stride. She was a ferocious filly at times.
The pair rolled into the turn, Lu shuffling Paranormal Hunter just a little wider than she would have gone normally. Maggie compensated by taking the mare back and off of Alucard's side. She wasn't very tactical going forward, but she understood slowing down perfectly. A sarcastic smile glinted across Maggie's features. Para was a bit of a basket case when it came to typical Thoroughbred training. Alucard strutted out ahead, not afraid of going out on his own. He drew away by a length and a half, stride swift and clipped. Laura perched silently, focused though very pleased with the colt's big sweeping stride. He was something else, but like Hourglass and the rest of the Witch Creek crop, he just needed time to come into his own ability.
The fractions increased with every ground swallowing stride that the colt and filly took. It was a devastating performance, a competition, and they put on quite a show. Alucard's mane whipped back behind him as he cranked into the turn, once again carrying Para wide. The burly filly pushed onward though, her head right at Alucard's throat latch. She moved in his shadow, strong and capable and as they drew into the the turn Para lengthened herself out. Maggie shook the reins and set the two year old filly down for the drive. Para moved as if the devil were on her tail, leveling out and storming furiously up the track. A length separated Alucard from Paranormal Hunter now. Maggie dropped her hands to the filly's neck, lips pursed with pleasure. She could really run when she wanted to.
Laura chirped once to Lu. His ears once flicking around, flattened into his mane and he swung violently to Para's outside. His agility was incredible for such a massive body. Laura clung, hands quiet as Lu moved soundlessly up to Para's outside, swamping her when she once appeared so brilliant. Para responded to the challenge, gutting it out and not intimidated in the least. She kept straight and true right up against the rail. No one could match her fury as she fought. Maggie remained quiet though. It was not a real race and she needed something for next time. Alucard rolled on the outside, not tested in the least, but giving as much as he could when placed against what appeared to be lesser competition on the dirt.
Laura felt a hum of satisfaction glide through her veins. This colt was serious. Just like Para. They were going to roll and it was only a matter of time. Silence filled the air as the bays slipped beneath the wire with Alucard a measured neck in front. Para drew off in the gallop out, at peace. Her anger only lasted the length of the stretch. She pulled up hardly breathing from the exertion. Just like Alucard, her time to shine was drawing closer with every stride.