February Week Two
Spotlight Pride & Vagabond.
Prima Donna & Calamity Queen.
GS Royal Crown & Sun King & Red Herring.
Prima Donna & Calamity Queen.
GS Royal Crown & Sun King & Red Herring.
actin' up
The workout scheduled first thing in the morning was more like a date with two challenging men, Reese thought. Spotlight Pride and Vagabond were the hardest mounts to ride unless you counted the new three year old filly Lethal Dose or the ever hateful Hourglass. One was a raving lunatic, the other a workaholic. Reese had been matched up on several other "dates" with the raving lunatic. He was not coming around and had a distinct reputation for being more than a little hard to handle. Luckily for Reese, Spotlight Pride was a straightforward athlete. He had one goal in mind: run the feet off his archrivals. That mindset had won them the All Things Gorgeous Cup, January Week Four. Reese was eager to put the strategy to the test yet again in the Silver Goblin Stakes at The Wire. Pride would faceoff with three mortal enemies and test them for every drop of their speed.
Reese shifted the leather strap of the bridle, darted a look into Pride's white-rimmed eyes. He looked just as crazy as usual, body tense, veins popping out of his glorious red hide. His smaat sll, tapered head looked like a classic statue belonging to Roman architecture. Spotlight Pride, son of Deathflash's Pride was a heart-throb, if only he didn't belong in a nuthouse when he wasn't on the track. Reese stroked a hand down the colt's bowed neck. He was staring out of the barn with an intense look on his face. If he were Taboo, Reese would be concerned. Since he wasn't, Reese knew Maggie must be coming with Vagabond the Workaholic.
Maggie pushed her sweaty blond hair out of her face as she led Vagabond into the barn. Where Pride was athletically lean, Vagabond was dashingly handsome with beefcake muscle. The blood bay colt snorted at Pride, stomped a hoof and demanded Pride's attention. The nervy chestnut colt danced between the cross-ties, tail whipping frantically over his butt. Bond could stare even the toughest horses into a meltdown. Reese patted Pride's neck, unhooked the cross-ties and led her fully tacked miler out of the barn. "We'll meet you and Michael Jordan at the head of the turf track." Maggie sent an exasperated smile at Reese's back, eyed up Vagabond.
"And I was beginning to think it was my fault no one wanted to stay within five feet of us. But now I see the truth. It's not me, it's you!" Bond sidestepped, rolling his big brown eyes. The Winged Heir colt was a tough customer, but even he couldn't stand to have a female nag at him. Maggie ran the brushes quickly over Bond's hide, humming as she worked. Ripley had given them an additional twenty minutes before the work. The head trainer was still on her way back from placing entries for the Spring Cup, February Week Four. Maggie had prayed to God that something would cause Ripley to be late. Vagabond had not been very cooperative to say the least.
The muscular colt chewed the steel bit with intense chomping once Maggie had bridled him. He was ready to rock and roll, sure that Spotlight Pride was the colt he would be facing off with. Bond had a thing against Pride. Bond was the bully. Pride was the victim. Pride was the skinny, anti-social nerd. Bond was the beefcake jock whose only charm was his talent on the track. Maggie patted the colt, keeping his faults to herself. Bond was a bit of a jerk, but what horse on Witch Creek property wasn't? The blond woman could think of none. She kissed the colt's cheek, pulled her helmet on and mounted up. Vagabond danced beneath her, muscle shifting beneath beautiful hide. His chest swelled with pride as he strolled powerfully out of the barn. Vagabond was ready for his workout and beyond his workout, the next race at The Wire.
Reese put Pride through the motions, cantering him before the first hill that would wind to the three furlong flat. Pride's ears danced over his sharply developed head, eyes rolling white. He couldn't hear anything, could only see what was going on around him. Pride's ears were stuffed full of cotton balls. Reese subtly sat in the seat, nodded when the colt slammed on the brakes and stood stock still. Reese's dark eyes flicked up to acknowledge Vagabond and Reynold's presence. "Ripley should be here in a moment."
Pride snorted, eyes rolling at the sight of Vagabond. The big horse pinned his ears at the nervy mount, kept them pinned even when Maggie turned the brawny beast away. Ripley pulled up aboard her ATV, smiled at them. "Sorry about my lateness. Just give them the mile and a half gallop. Three furlong blowout. That should be enough time to tire out Pride and give Vagabond some chance at beating him." She shot a playful grin Maggie's way, drove off before she could see the bird that Maggie aimed behind her back.
Reese chuckled, spun Pride and sent him dashing toward the green hills before Maggie could even pick up the reins. Vagabond practically spun his wheels in the turf. His hulking body needed more of a warning before take off. The colt lurched after Pride who was dashing up the hills like a master mountain climber. The Winged Heir colt stole after him, muscles pumping with adrenaline at the sight of his target on the move. Maggie kept her hands locked in the blowing black mane, was more sure than ever that turf was Vagabond's preferred surface at the moment. He launched brilliantly up the hillside, over the crest and back down, skittering briefly at the drop.
Spotlight Pride was free-running through the valley by the time Vagabond hit the valley behind him. The chestnut colt could blitz anyone off their toes and was the master at putting his rivals to bed. The wild energy flew through Pride through the reins and into Reese. Her brown eyes were lit up with lunacy. She felt a rush of energy, practically laughing when Pride roared through the hillside course. He was full of himself, full of his speed. He was one of the most thrilling horses she'd ever ridden. Reese clung to Pride's mane as he blistered his way through the first mile and a quarter. He was daring Vagabond to come beat him up now. Vagabond needed to do a ton of catching up.
Vagabond rumbled over the course, his effortless ease gone as he fought the turf beneath him. He wanted to beat Pride to a pulp, hated the colt's guts more than ever before. The blood bay horse charged to the top of the final hill, eyes full of fire as he sought out Pride's red body. Maggie kept her hands quiet, not willing to give Vagabond's life for the sake of one lost workout. The blood bay launched himself down the hill, leaped the last foot and was in furious pursuit of the lean front runner.
Reese heard the ominous hoofbeats and didn't spare a glance back. If Vagabond was going to catch them, it would take a lot of speed and energy on his part. Pride was merely on cruise control. The chestnut horse floated over the ground, head and tail high, the picture of desert beauty. Spotlight Pride was a great horse, a brilliantly fast one that was often not seen on the turf. Mostly it was just easy going front runners, not speed-burning horses like Pride. Reese kept her hands locked in the colt's long, wild mane, a smile gracing her lips. Pride's ears flicked back momentarily, recognized that Vagabond was indeed coming after them.
Oh boy, was he gunning for them. Maggie pushed the colt on with heavy encouragement, calling and hand-riding. The big colt charged over the ground with his ears pinned, his nostrils flaring. His big hulking chest battled against the furious wind, his legs propelled him mightily into it. The Winged Heir colt was a stunning show of brutality and brilliance. Maggie did not stop pushing on her big colt until he was caught up with Spotlight Pride. Fury and hate for the other horse would move him onward, faster than anything his jockey could give him. The big colt throttled up to par when he matched Spotlight Pride stride for stride in the final three hundred yards.
The lean chestnut and heavy bay struck out at each other like boxers in the final round. Neither horse was willing to compromise, neither was going to go down with a white flag of surrender. Both were as fierce and as tough as they came. Their female partners were silent, witnesses to the final punches. Pride still remained a gutty head in front, but Vagabond was continuing to chip away at him. The wire roared up in front of them, beckoned them seductively. The chestnut darted under, gathered all his iron will to get the victory over his lesser conditioned rival.
Vagabond blew by the ruby red horse up the hillside that marked the end of a harsh and relieving workout. Maggie slapped the colt's neck, impressed by his talent and his determination. The horse would be very tough next time out and this time he had a race and a hard workout under his belt. Excitement burned within Maggie's veins as she turned Vagabond back to greet a relieved and proud Spotlight Pride. Reese was stroking the colt's withers with a thrilled look in her eyes. It had been a workout that would have them primed for a top effort in the Silver Goblin Stakes.
Reese shifted the leather strap of the bridle, darted a look into Pride's white-rimmed eyes. He looked just as crazy as usual, body tense, veins popping out of his glorious red hide. His smaat sll, tapered head looked like a classic statue belonging to Roman architecture. Spotlight Pride, son of Deathflash's Pride was a heart-throb, if only he didn't belong in a nuthouse when he wasn't on the track. Reese stroked a hand down the colt's bowed neck. He was staring out of the barn with an intense look on his face. If he were Taboo, Reese would be concerned. Since he wasn't, Reese knew Maggie must be coming with Vagabond the Workaholic.
Maggie pushed her sweaty blond hair out of her face as she led Vagabond into the barn. Where Pride was athletically lean, Vagabond was dashingly handsome with beefcake muscle. The blood bay colt snorted at Pride, stomped a hoof and demanded Pride's attention. The nervy chestnut colt danced between the cross-ties, tail whipping frantically over his butt. Bond could stare even the toughest horses into a meltdown. Reese patted Pride's neck, unhooked the cross-ties and led her fully tacked miler out of the barn. "We'll meet you and Michael Jordan at the head of the turf track." Maggie sent an exasperated smile at Reese's back, eyed up Vagabond.
"And I was beginning to think it was my fault no one wanted to stay within five feet of us. But now I see the truth. It's not me, it's you!" Bond sidestepped, rolling his big brown eyes. The Winged Heir colt was a tough customer, but even he couldn't stand to have a female nag at him. Maggie ran the brushes quickly over Bond's hide, humming as she worked. Ripley had given them an additional twenty minutes before the work. The head trainer was still on her way back from placing entries for the Spring Cup, February Week Four. Maggie had prayed to God that something would cause Ripley to be late. Vagabond had not been very cooperative to say the least.
The muscular colt chewed the steel bit with intense chomping once Maggie had bridled him. He was ready to rock and roll, sure that Spotlight Pride was the colt he would be facing off with. Bond had a thing against Pride. Bond was the bully. Pride was the victim. Pride was the skinny, anti-social nerd. Bond was the beefcake jock whose only charm was his talent on the track. Maggie patted the colt, keeping his faults to herself. Bond was a bit of a jerk, but what horse on Witch Creek property wasn't? The blond woman could think of none. She kissed the colt's cheek, pulled her helmet on and mounted up. Vagabond danced beneath her, muscle shifting beneath beautiful hide. His chest swelled with pride as he strolled powerfully out of the barn. Vagabond was ready for his workout and beyond his workout, the next race at The Wire.
Reese put Pride through the motions, cantering him before the first hill that would wind to the three furlong flat. Pride's ears danced over his sharply developed head, eyes rolling white. He couldn't hear anything, could only see what was going on around him. Pride's ears were stuffed full of cotton balls. Reese subtly sat in the seat, nodded when the colt slammed on the brakes and stood stock still. Reese's dark eyes flicked up to acknowledge Vagabond and Reynold's presence. "Ripley should be here in a moment."
Pride snorted, eyes rolling at the sight of Vagabond. The big horse pinned his ears at the nervy mount, kept them pinned even when Maggie turned the brawny beast away. Ripley pulled up aboard her ATV, smiled at them. "Sorry about my lateness. Just give them the mile and a half gallop. Three furlong blowout. That should be enough time to tire out Pride and give Vagabond some chance at beating him." She shot a playful grin Maggie's way, drove off before she could see the bird that Maggie aimed behind her back.
Reese chuckled, spun Pride and sent him dashing toward the green hills before Maggie could even pick up the reins. Vagabond practically spun his wheels in the turf. His hulking body needed more of a warning before take off. The colt lurched after Pride who was dashing up the hills like a master mountain climber. The Winged Heir colt stole after him, muscles pumping with adrenaline at the sight of his target on the move. Maggie kept her hands locked in the blowing black mane, was more sure than ever that turf was Vagabond's preferred surface at the moment. He launched brilliantly up the hillside, over the crest and back down, skittering briefly at the drop.
Spotlight Pride was free-running through the valley by the time Vagabond hit the valley behind him. The chestnut colt could blitz anyone off their toes and was the master at putting his rivals to bed. The wild energy flew through Pride through the reins and into Reese. Her brown eyes were lit up with lunacy. She felt a rush of energy, practically laughing when Pride roared through the hillside course. He was full of himself, full of his speed. He was one of the most thrilling horses she'd ever ridden. Reese clung to Pride's mane as he blistered his way through the first mile and a quarter. He was daring Vagabond to come beat him up now. Vagabond needed to do a ton of catching up.
Vagabond rumbled over the course, his effortless ease gone as he fought the turf beneath him. He wanted to beat Pride to a pulp, hated the colt's guts more than ever before. The blood bay horse charged to the top of the final hill, eyes full of fire as he sought out Pride's red body. Maggie kept her hands quiet, not willing to give Vagabond's life for the sake of one lost workout. The blood bay launched himself down the hill, leaped the last foot and was in furious pursuit of the lean front runner.
Reese heard the ominous hoofbeats and didn't spare a glance back. If Vagabond was going to catch them, it would take a lot of speed and energy on his part. Pride was merely on cruise control. The chestnut horse floated over the ground, head and tail high, the picture of desert beauty. Spotlight Pride was a great horse, a brilliantly fast one that was often not seen on the turf. Mostly it was just easy going front runners, not speed-burning horses like Pride. Reese kept her hands locked in the colt's long, wild mane, a smile gracing her lips. Pride's ears flicked back momentarily, recognized that Vagabond was indeed coming after them.
Oh boy, was he gunning for them. Maggie pushed the colt on with heavy encouragement, calling and hand-riding. The big colt charged over the ground with his ears pinned, his nostrils flaring. His big hulking chest battled against the furious wind, his legs propelled him mightily into it. The Winged Heir colt was a stunning show of brutality and brilliance. Maggie did not stop pushing on her big colt until he was caught up with Spotlight Pride. Fury and hate for the other horse would move him onward, faster than anything his jockey could give him. The big colt throttled up to par when he matched Spotlight Pride stride for stride in the final three hundred yards.
The lean chestnut and heavy bay struck out at each other like boxers in the final round. Neither horse was willing to compromise, neither was going to go down with a white flag of surrender. Both were as fierce and as tough as they came. Their female partners were silent, witnesses to the final punches. Pride still remained a gutty head in front, but Vagabond was continuing to chip away at him. The wire roared up in front of them, beckoned them seductively. The chestnut darted under, gathered all his iron will to get the victory over his lesser conditioned rival.
Vagabond blew by the ruby red horse up the hillside that marked the end of a harsh and relieving workout. Maggie slapped the colt's neck, impressed by his talent and his determination. The horse would be very tough next time out and this time he had a race and a hard workout under his belt. Excitement burned within Maggie's veins as she turned Vagabond back to greet a relieved and proud Spotlight Pride. Reese was stroking the colt's withers with a thrilled look in her eyes. It had been a workout that would have them primed for a top effort in the Silver Goblin Stakes.
double trouble
Maggie was feeling more than a little rubber legged by the time she was finished washing and putting out Vagabond. Her blue eyes were filled with triumph and relaxation after a thrilling and satisfying workout. It was just her luck that she had two more workouts left in the day. One was over the turf with Calamity Queen, the other over the dirt with GS Royal Crown. Her body stiffened with the promise of aches upon the completion of today. The life of a jockey at Witch Creek was not an easy job. In order to keep small and personal, the staff had to work double time. Witch Creek was still relatively small compared to Stride of Perfection, Intrepid and definitely Star Thoroughbreds. All of those big stables had more horses waiting in the wings or retired than Witch Creek. Maggie loved the more personal environment, but more than once wondered what it would be like to have a couple more grooms or stall cleaners. Sighing, the blonde woman walked toward the older horse barn to meet her second date of the day.
Calamity Queen stood proud and tall between the cross-ties. Her eyes blazed at the sight of Maggie and she looked a lot tougher than a 15.3 hand thoroughbred should. Her body was well-muscled, dapples shown over her rump from good health. Maggie patted the mare's nose, grinned when the horse bared her teeth. Calamity Queen was no one's pet. She was a true blue racehorse and gave as good as she got. Last time out, Calamity Queen had won over a large field demonstrating that she was always going to be the dark horse. No one ever looked to the Touch Up mare which wasn't too surprising; neither Winning Touch or Fiery Touch had attracted attention right off the bat, always overshadowed by others. Maggie hoped to change that by the end of the season. CQ reminded her a lot of Whipped Cream through her attitude, definitely not by her size.
Justin lead Prima Donna into the older horse barn, his brown eyes searching for Maggiletti Reynolds and Calamity Queen. He rolled his eyes when he found Maggie busy sweet-talking her mount instead of tacking her up. He was guessing it was part of this "new" mojo Maggie was looking for. She had put up competitive boundaries between herself and the rest of the riders of late, saying she had the least effective string in the bunch. Bullshit, if you ask me, Justin thought. Paranormal Hunter and GS Royal Crown could hardly be called ineffective. Ripley was the one with the brilliant mounts, but she was in a good year when her two best sprinters ever happened to come from the same crop. It was fate. Maggie's fate was going to improve as the crops at Witch Creek improved. He nodded at her as she slapped the saddle on CQ's back. The mare ground her teeth together, ears pinning in a threat. She was never happy unless she was on the track.
Prima Donna stood with her hip cocked, fine-tipped ears pricked on Calamity Queen. She was a full hand taller than the stout mare, a beautiful mahogany color and probably the most athletic-looking individual in the entire three year old string. Justin patted her sleek neck, admiring the predatory light that glinted in Prima's gaze. That was a new thing for her. She was getting fiercer because she was tired of being beat. Justin was tired of seeing the bay filly just get beat. She would faceoff versus Acantha, the Breeders' Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf winner, In The Spotlight, winner of the All Along Stakes, and National Treasure, a relative unknown compared to the other two. Justin believed this would be the time to strike the iron while it was hot. Prima just needed one win to get her name back in the spotlight again, to become a threat again.
Prima snorted as Maggie put the finishing touches on CQ, her half-sister, and led her out of the barn. CQ pinned her ears, threatened to kick, but a touch from Maggie had her back on her best behavior. The blonde woman mounted up outside, looked good astride the dark bay mare. Justin leaped onto Prima's back, not expecting CQ's stillness, did not receive stillness. The cat-like three year old strutted toward the turf track, ears pricked and eyes full of battle light. She was ready to demonstrate her readiness against her half-sister. Justin was excited for this workout, more than ready to advance Prima's racing career. He ran a hand down her beautiful neck, kept his gaze forward even when Calamity Queen drew up to Prima's side.
Maggie could feel the strength and power roll through her stout mare. Calamity Queen was on the verge of having a really good season and Maggie was eager to be a partner of hers. The Touch Up and Royal Assault daughter strolled toward the turf track with confidence filling her aura. She'd beaten a spectacular field and now she was ready to do so again but in the Spring Cup Grade Two Turf. Maggie grinned. It would be her first big meet and several of her mounts were entered to compete. Maggie nudged the bay mare into a hand-gallop, smiled at the easy way that CQ moved into stride. Her muscles were liquid beneath her hide, releasing and contracting to suit her frame.
Prima flew into flight, launching off of her muscled hind end in order to keep up with her new arch-enemy. Justin leaned close as the smart bay filly launched up the hillside, wind blowing her mane around her savage face. She was a glorious looking animal, wild, seemingly untamed. Justin had been impressed by Prima Donna before, but lately she was entering into her own stratosphere. The filly hit the top of the hill ahead of her half-sister, ears pricking as the fields spread out before. She had a mile and a quarter to go before the three furlong flat. Her body tingled with energy and eagerness. She pinned her ears when CQ bolted down the hill, authoritatively sweeping the lead out from under Prima Donna. The Coronation Stakes nominated three year old soared after her, long stride shortening up to adjust to the hillside.
Calamity Queen stormed through the valley and up the opposite hillside, her body flew in its long-time rhythm. She was a hunter chasing after her prey and ran with that same impressive intensity. Her tail flew out behind her, rippling on the wind of her creation. Her eyes were filled with fire and joy. This was truly the only time CQ was feeling at her best. Maggie perched quietly at the mare's withers, her blue eyes alive as her body grew accustomed to the workout speed. Calamity Queen was rolling in her good form. Adrenaline pumped through Maggie's veins as the dark bay mare drew to a length and a half lead. She was high-tailing it away from Prima Donna, her hooves barely touching the ground as she ran.
Prima stalked belligerently in second, her ears pinned against her elegant neck. She was not going to be outdone by the stout mare running up ahead, but she certainly wasn't going to take her on from the outset. This Gorgeous George daughter had a head on her sleek shoulders. The bay filly ran low over the course, her legs streaking beneath her gorgeous frame. She was full of life, full of speed, full of talent. Her lithe body was a study in pure poetry and efficiency. Justin was impressed, not for the first time, by this one's movement. She ran fast, but ran as though it cost her nothing in the energy department. He wrapped his hands in her mane when CQ hit the top of the final hill with Prima not a length behind her now.
Neither horse paused at the crest of the hill. They were ready to rush headlong into the race. Maggie and Justin leaned back in the saddles, forcing their weight into the horses so that they would not streak down the steeper hillside. CQ's smaller frame beat Prima's down the hillside by a second. She was off like a quarter horse, huge haunches propelling her over the green grass with brilliant speed. Maggie's cheeks burned from the cutting wind, but delight filled her. This was a good mare, a very good mare. Maggie forced herself to not smile, to not give anything away. Prima would definitely have her hooves full.
The three year old filly tracked Calamity Queen ferociously through the first furlong. She was practically glued to the older horse's left hip, applying pressure at just the right time. Her eyes blazed as if she knew how effective this plan of attack was. Justin was still in the saddle, letting his filly run the route on her own. She gained ground in the second furlong, now at CQ's barrel. Her lean mean was revving up and Justin could not wait to truly let her loose in the final furlong.
Both mares had their ears pinned in fury as they soared toward the wire. Calamity Queen maintained a neck lead, her legs blurred beneath her powerful frame. She was small, but she was strong and tough. She had always been born tough. Prima needed to learn what tough was. The three year old bore down on Calamity Queen that last hundred yards, eyes wild with hunger for the win. She drew up side by side with Calamity Queen, muscled her way to the lead three yards out. Calamity Queen battled back furiously, getting her head down so that she was a nose in front just after the wire. Prima's ears pricked up the second they passed through the line, her greyhound form damp from exertion, but not tired in the least. She was full of herself and her momentum carried her to the top of the final hill. Justin slapped the filly's neck, intensely pleased with his Turf Triple Tiara candidate.
Calamity Queen's eyes gleamed with vengeance as her proud half-sister circled in front of her. Her black tail switched over her body, a body tensed to spring. She bared her teeth and would have gone after Prima Donna if Maggie hadn't caught her. She forced the Touch Up mare to back up, to do something other than take out her wrath on Prima Donna, who had just barely beaten them. Maggie let out a sigh of relief when Calamity Queen huffed, released some of that hateful energy. "Alright... Alright... Next race tiger, I'll give you your chance to crush 'em."
Calamity Queen stood proud and tall between the cross-ties. Her eyes blazed at the sight of Maggie and she looked a lot tougher than a 15.3 hand thoroughbred should. Her body was well-muscled, dapples shown over her rump from good health. Maggie patted the mare's nose, grinned when the horse bared her teeth. Calamity Queen was no one's pet. She was a true blue racehorse and gave as good as she got. Last time out, Calamity Queen had won over a large field demonstrating that she was always going to be the dark horse. No one ever looked to the Touch Up mare which wasn't too surprising; neither Winning Touch or Fiery Touch had attracted attention right off the bat, always overshadowed by others. Maggie hoped to change that by the end of the season. CQ reminded her a lot of Whipped Cream through her attitude, definitely not by her size.
Justin lead Prima Donna into the older horse barn, his brown eyes searching for Maggiletti Reynolds and Calamity Queen. He rolled his eyes when he found Maggie busy sweet-talking her mount instead of tacking her up. He was guessing it was part of this "new" mojo Maggie was looking for. She had put up competitive boundaries between herself and the rest of the riders of late, saying she had the least effective string in the bunch. Bullshit, if you ask me, Justin thought. Paranormal Hunter and GS Royal Crown could hardly be called ineffective. Ripley was the one with the brilliant mounts, but she was in a good year when her two best sprinters ever happened to come from the same crop. It was fate. Maggie's fate was going to improve as the crops at Witch Creek improved. He nodded at her as she slapped the saddle on CQ's back. The mare ground her teeth together, ears pinning in a threat. She was never happy unless she was on the track.
Prima Donna stood with her hip cocked, fine-tipped ears pricked on Calamity Queen. She was a full hand taller than the stout mare, a beautiful mahogany color and probably the most athletic-looking individual in the entire three year old string. Justin patted her sleek neck, admiring the predatory light that glinted in Prima's gaze. That was a new thing for her. She was getting fiercer because she was tired of being beat. Justin was tired of seeing the bay filly just get beat. She would faceoff versus Acantha, the Breeders' Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf winner, In The Spotlight, winner of the All Along Stakes, and National Treasure, a relative unknown compared to the other two. Justin believed this would be the time to strike the iron while it was hot. Prima just needed one win to get her name back in the spotlight again, to become a threat again.
Prima snorted as Maggie put the finishing touches on CQ, her half-sister, and led her out of the barn. CQ pinned her ears, threatened to kick, but a touch from Maggie had her back on her best behavior. The blonde woman mounted up outside, looked good astride the dark bay mare. Justin leaped onto Prima's back, not expecting CQ's stillness, did not receive stillness. The cat-like three year old strutted toward the turf track, ears pricked and eyes full of battle light. She was ready to demonstrate her readiness against her half-sister. Justin was excited for this workout, more than ready to advance Prima's racing career. He ran a hand down her beautiful neck, kept his gaze forward even when Calamity Queen drew up to Prima's side.
Maggie could feel the strength and power roll through her stout mare. Calamity Queen was on the verge of having a really good season and Maggie was eager to be a partner of hers. The Touch Up and Royal Assault daughter strolled toward the turf track with confidence filling her aura. She'd beaten a spectacular field and now she was ready to do so again but in the Spring Cup Grade Two Turf. Maggie grinned. It would be her first big meet and several of her mounts were entered to compete. Maggie nudged the bay mare into a hand-gallop, smiled at the easy way that CQ moved into stride. Her muscles were liquid beneath her hide, releasing and contracting to suit her frame.
Prima flew into flight, launching off of her muscled hind end in order to keep up with her new arch-enemy. Justin leaned close as the smart bay filly launched up the hillside, wind blowing her mane around her savage face. She was a glorious looking animal, wild, seemingly untamed. Justin had been impressed by Prima Donna before, but lately she was entering into her own stratosphere. The filly hit the top of the hill ahead of her half-sister, ears pricking as the fields spread out before. She had a mile and a quarter to go before the three furlong flat. Her body tingled with energy and eagerness. She pinned her ears when CQ bolted down the hill, authoritatively sweeping the lead out from under Prima Donna. The Coronation Stakes nominated three year old soared after her, long stride shortening up to adjust to the hillside.
Calamity Queen stormed through the valley and up the opposite hillside, her body flew in its long-time rhythm. She was a hunter chasing after her prey and ran with that same impressive intensity. Her tail flew out behind her, rippling on the wind of her creation. Her eyes were filled with fire and joy. This was truly the only time CQ was feeling at her best. Maggie perched quietly at the mare's withers, her blue eyes alive as her body grew accustomed to the workout speed. Calamity Queen was rolling in her good form. Adrenaline pumped through Maggie's veins as the dark bay mare drew to a length and a half lead. She was high-tailing it away from Prima Donna, her hooves barely touching the ground as she ran.
Prima stalked belligerently in second, her ears pinned against her elegant neck. She was not going to be outdone by the stout mare running up ahead, but she certainly wasn't going to take her on from the outset. This Gorgeous George daughter had a head on her sleek shoulders. The bay filly ran low over the course, her legs streaking beneath her gorgeous frame. She was full of life, full of speed, full of talent. Her lithe body was a study in pure poetry and efficiency. Justin was impressed, not for the first time, by this one's movement. She ran fast, but ran as though it cost her nothing in the energy department. He wrapped his hands in her mane when CQ hit the top of the final hill with Prima not a length behind her now.
Neither horse paused at the crest of the hill. They were ready to rush headlong into the race. Maggie and Justin leaned back in the saddles, forcing their weight into the horses so that they would not streak down the steeper hillside. CQ's smaller frame beat Prima's down the hillside by a second. She was off like a quarter horse, huge haunches propelling her over the green grass with brilliant speed. Maggie's cheeks burned from the cutting wind, but delight filled her. This was a good mare, a very good mare. Maggie forced herself to not smile, to not give anything away. Prima would definitely have her hooves full.
The three year old filly tracked Calamity Queen ferociously through the first furlong. She was practically glued to the older horse's left hip, applying pressure at just the right time. Her eyes blazed as if she knew how effective this plan of attack was. Justin was still in the saddle, letting his filly run the route on her own. She gained ground in the second furlong, now at CQ's barrel. Her lean mean was revving up and Justin could not wait to truly let her loose in the final furlong.
Both mares had their ears pinned in fury as they soared toward the wire. Calamity Queen maintained a neck lead, her legs blurred beneath her powerful frame. She was small, but she was strong and tough. She had always been born tough. Prima needed to learn what tough was. The three year old bore down on Calamity Queen that last hundred yards, eyes wild with hunger for the win. She drew up side by side with Calamity Queen, muscled her way to the lead three yards out. Calamity Queen battled back furiously, getting her head down so that she was a nose in front just after the wire. Prima's ears pricked up the second they passed through the line, her greyhound form damp from exertion, but not tired in the least. She was full of herself and her momentum carried her to the top of the final hill. Justin slapped the filly's neck, intensely pleased with his Turf Triple Tiara candidate.
Calamity Queen's eyes gleamed with vengeance as her proud half-sister circled in front of her. Her black tail switched over her body, a body tensed to spring. She bared her teeth and would have gone after Prima Donna if Maggie hadn't caught her. She forced the Touch Up mare to back up, to do something other than take out her wrath on Prima Donna, who had just barely beaten them. Maggie let out a sigh of relief when Calamity Queen huffed, released some of that hateful energy. "Alright... Alright... Next race tiger, I'll give you your chance to crush 'em."
royally driven
"Speed is the name of the game for this workout," Brooks intoned while he deftly saddled up Red Herring. The blaze-marked stallion danced in the cross-ties, revved beyond belief after his win in the Oscarianna Stakes at Green Horse Fields. His muscles rippled beneath his burnished hide and he looked extremely capable of doing serious damage in this workout and in the future. Brooks patted the horse's neck, noted the wild wall-eye. Red was really feeling his oats today. It wasn't often that two of Brookson Wells prized mounts were coupled in a workout, but that's what happened when the schedule got switched up. Knowing what Red Herring was capable of, Brooks had once again given up the mount on his only two year old for the year.
Sun King, unmarked and the color of ruby diamond, gleamed from the thorough attention of Ripley's Marsh's crafty hands. Brooks' girlfriend was one of the best horse women on the racing circuit, and also a regular rider of Sun King's half-brother Mastermind. Sun King was a might more moody and defiant than the brilliant Mastermind, but last workout he'd appeared to enjoy Ripley Marsh's companionship in the saddle. It had been an easy switch for this one workout. "Crow and Red are going to need a world of speed if we're going to beat Lusitania's Soldier, Paradise Island and Born To Impress." A hum of agreement sounded behind Brooks.
Maggie picked out GS Royal Crown's feet diligently, humming to the country song that played over her head phones. She flashed a smile when Crow bent his neck to nose her shirt for attention. She wouldn't say that that the gray stallion had gotten friendlier with age, but he'd sure as heck gotten a more mellow. She reached back to scratch his lightening muzzle, blue eyes sparkling when he played his lips over her fingers. "If we convert this sweetness into fierceness, we might have a shot. Something tells me we'll need the next weeks gallops to get Crow fully up to par. He hasn't gotten a race this season and Lusitania's Soldier looks like he's rounding into a nice form."
Ripley smiled, "Crow can take him. I'm beginning to think he likes the dirt better than the turf. His workout last week was fantastic. We'll see what today brings. He'll have the perfect seat behind Red and King." Ripley patted the sleek two year old's shoulder, sighed wistfully. She remembered when Mastermind was a two year old, full of unknown talent and a field of expectations to live up to. Now, he was four and in his last season, possibly best older horse in the country at the moment, no matter the distance. "Enjoy the ride with this one Brooks. It goes by super quick." She pulled the reins over the colt's head, led the way out of the barn. King whinnied the moment he stepped from the barn, ears pricking and nostrils quivering. Full of life and excitement. He turned his head, glancing at Ripley as she prepared to mount up. He saw a world of enthusiasm and excitement glinting in those fiery green eyes of her. He smiled when they locked gazes. She rolled her shoulders, nodded to Maggie. "Well, let's head down."
Red Herring bullied his way to the lead down the path, muscles glinting beneath gorgeous red hide. He was more on his toes than before his last race in the Oscarianna Stakes, more than ready to take down the big guns in the Spring Cup. Brooks hoped that Red Herring could step up into a position of leadership of the older male division. The division was severely lacking now that Euphoria's Warrior and Flashy Wings had been retired to stud. Brooks had a feeling his horse could be the one to take down the title, but first he had to beat the current best of the division, as well as rival Born To Impress.
GS Royal Crown danced beneath her, his legs choppy with nerves and high energy. Now that she was on his back, Crow was ready to go out and do his thing, run these other males into the ground. He vibrated with intensity, eyes blazing and full of life. He was one win away from being a grade one horse. In Maggie's opinion it would be a long time coming. Crow had been running against the best for a long time now. It was time for him to receive his just desserts. He let out a long belligerent neigh, causing Sun King to pin his ears and try to spin in fury. The two year old horse was not self-conscious of his younger age or physical maturity. Ripley's deft hand kept the colt from dealing a blow that would cause injury to one or the other. Maggie patted Crow's neck, listened to his eager blowing breaths. Oh, it was definitely game time.
King leaped into a hand gallop the second he broke onto the track. His ears pricked up, his nostrils quivered with barely leashed wildness. Ripley perched herself at the beautiful colt's withers, kept her hands light on his mouth and her body in a relaxed position. He would light up with speed if she so much as hinted she wanted any. He was more sensitive than Mastermind had been at this age, a more reactive horse than his older sibling. His hooves beat over the ground with focused control and his dark eyes cut over the course with such intensity. Ripley found herself at home aboard the Native Flame colt, more than she thought she would. She glanced under her arm to see Red Herring rocketing up on the inside rail. He barreled up alongside GS Royal Crown, mouth agape, wild mane flying like flame. He was not going to be outdone by some little kid. King's ears flapped against his neck briefly when Red Herring assumed the lead. A gentle touch from Ripley had the colt relaxing visibly on the outside.
Crow skipped over the dirt that Red and King kicked up. His dark brown eyes glimmered with focus as he took up his customary stalking position. Each stride of his was quick and he was more surefooted than any either of the males before him. He skimmed the rail as they cruised for the backstretch, his ears flicking above his head. He had the other horses measured and had learned what it meant to be patient since last season. With the time off, GS Royal Crown was ready to strike where it hurt the most. Maggie kept a solid hold on the gray's mouth, sure to remind him that this was not the time to run up and challenge the pair. He relaxed into the rein, stride becoming one of ease. Comfortable, Crow danced behind his opponents, prepared to wait them out.
Red Herring remained strong on the lead, wall eyes giving him the look of a crazed horse. He was muscular and tough. He was the complete opposite of Brookson's three year old mount In Front. In Front needed encouragement. Red Herring needed something to hold him back from burning out everything he had on the lead. The chestnut stallion cruised over the course, steadying himself as he realized this would be a longer workout, one made to calm him. Brooks kept a keen blue eye on Ripley, kept his ears peeled for Maggie. The blond woman was riding in the perfect spot and would have a slightly fresher horse in the home stretch when they came back around. Red snorted, pinned his ears when King switched leads and came in a little bit on the turn. The dashing son of Native Flame simply flicked his ears, bounded up to put some pressure on the older horse.
Ripley grinned at the dangerous feeling that spread from King to her through the reins. This colt was brave, maybe a little foolish at this age, but mentally he was tough. He would not be bullied by the larger, more capable stallion. He would not wave a flag of surrender. King rolled alongside Red Herring with consummate professionalism. He settled into the bridle, flicked his ears and did just as he was asked. Ripley leaned close as the speed picked up down the homestretch. After the far turn, Red Herring would bullet away from them as he was wont to do in the beginning of a workout. It was six furlongs of hard trying speed and a little measure of stamina. She could feel the energy in Sun King, knew he would be prepared to do his best.
Maggie kept a watchful eye on Brookson Well's grip on the reins. A flicker of movement would release his burly stallion, would tell Maggie whether she needed to bide her time or pour it on right from the get-go. Crow stiffened up when he became aware of his rider's alert position. His ears pinned to his neck and every other breath was a snorting one. She kept her grip the same, willed Crow to stay in the pocket for as long as possible. Red was bullish on the rail and King was known to go a little wide on the turns. Crow would have to go the widest distance of all. Saving ground now was imperative.
The reins whistled through Brooks' clever hands the minute Red Herring zoomed into the backstretch. His form launched off of his muscular hind end and rocketed away from his workmates before they so much as blinked. Red's late speed was killer. It made his opponents go with him because he sure as hell wasn't going to stop. He thundered up the track, a solid lead of three lengths parting him and Sun King. Brooks took hold on the burly animal, confident he could rein him in. There was five furlongs left to go. Crow was going to be coming.
Maggie had seen the rail position the minute Red Herring took off. Before Ripley could close the hole with her less experienced mount, GS Royal Crown was already in the vacated spot. Ripley shot an annoyed glance in Maggie's direction, but could not fault the rider for being aggressive. Sun King would have to go wide the whole time and still have to fight with the older stallions. The chestnut colt took in a great breath just before turn, swapped leads and took on a furious facade. He ran beat for beat with GS Royal Crown who was fresh and full of himself. The more aerodynamic gray ran with efficiency and neatly sliced the turn with his agile strides. Just as Maggie had expected, Sun King drifted four wide off the turn. She gave herself a nod of approval, shook the reins at Crow and sent him flying.
The gray horse soared up the track after Red Herring, mane and tail flying behind him like proud banners. His swift strides carried him over the course and had him closing the gap with near brilliance. Having learned her lesson last week, Maggie went into overdrive, heeling the gray colt forward and clucking her tongue. Spurred into fury, Crow bore down on Red Herring, engaged him ferociously. The chestnut and gray battled furiously through the remaining yards of the workout, trailed by the younger chestnut colt.
Ripley was still as a stone as Sun King soared over the course. He was beautiful and full of run, but his speed was not quite able to match Red Herring or GS Royal Crown. Even after all the distance and furious run from start to finish, the Native Flame colt was only beaten by one and half lengths. Ripley slapped the colt's neck in approval, eyes glinting. He had plenty to learn, but against his own generation, King was at the top of his class. She brought the chestnut to a jog, nodded at Brooks and Maggie as they brought their stallions back. "That was a pretty impressive workout for your two. Very impressive. I'm thinking we'll have some great performances in two weeks!"
Sun King, unmarked and the color of ruby diamond, gleamed from the thorough attention of Ripley's Marsh's crafty hands. Brooks' girlfriend was one of the best horse women on the racing circuit, and also a regular rider of Sun King's half-brother Mastermind. Sun King was a might more moody and defiant than the brilliant Mastermind, but last workout he'd appeared to enjoy Ripley Marsh's companionship in the saddle. It had been an easy switch for this one workout. "Crow and Red are going to need a world of speed if we're going to beat Lusitania's Soldier, Paradise Island and Born To Impress." A hum of agreement sounded behind Brooks.
Maggie picked out GS Royal Crown's feet diligently, humming to the country song that played over her head phones. She flashed a smile when Crow bent his neck to nose her shirt for attention. She wouldn't say that that the gray stallion had gotten friendlier with age, but he'd sure as heck gotten a more mellow. She reached back to scratch his lightening muzzle, blue eyes sparkling when he played his lips over her fingers. "If we convert this sweetness into fierceness, we might have a shot. Something tells me we'll need the next weeks gallops to get Crow fully up to par. He hasn't gotten a race this season and Lusitania's Soldier looks like he's rounding into a nice form."
Ripley smiled, "Crow can take him. I'm beginning to think he likes the dirt better than the turf. His workout last week was fantastic. We'll see what today brings. He'll have the perfect seat behind Red and King." Ripley patted the sleek two year old's shoulder, sighed wistfully. She remembered when Mastermind was a two year old, full of unknown talent and a field of expectations to live up to. Now, he was four and in his last season, possibly best older horse in the country at the moment, no matter the distance. "Enjoy the ride with this one Brooks. It goes by super quick." She pulled the reins over the colt's head, led the way out of the barn. King whinnied the moment he stepped from the barn, ears pricking and nostrils quivering. Full of life and excitement. He turned his head, glancing at Ripley as she prepared to mount up. He saw a world of enthusiasm and excitement glinting in those fiery green eyes of her. He smiled when they locked gazes. She rolled her shoulders, nodded to Maggie. "Well, let's head down."
Red Herring bullied his way to the lead down the path, muscles glinting beneath gorgeous red hide. He was more on his toes than before his last race in the Oscarianna Stakes, more than ready to take down the big guns in the Spring Cup. Brooks hoped that Red Herring could step up into a position of leadership of the older male division. The division was severely lacking now that Euphoria's Warrior and Flashy Wings had been retired to stud. Brooks had a feeling his horse could be the one to take down the title, but first he had to beat the current best of the division, as well as rival Born To Impress.
GS Royal Crown danced beneath her, his legs choppy with nerves and high energy. Now that she was on his back, Crow was ready to go out and do his thing, run these other males into the ground. He vibrated with intensity, eyes blazing and full of life. He was one win away from being a grade one horse. In Maggie's opinion it would be a long time coming. Crow had been running against the best for a long time now. It was time for him to receive his just desserts. He let out a long belligerent neigh, causing Sun King to pin his ears and try to spin in fury. The two year old horse was not self-conscious of his younger age or physical maturity. Ripley's deft hand kept the colt from dealing a blow that would cause injury to one or the other. Maggie patted Crow's neck, listened to his eager blowing breaths. Oh, it was definitely game time.
King leaped into a hand gallop the second he broke onto the track. His ears pricked up, his nostrils quivered with barely leashed wildness. Ripley perched herself at the beautiful colt's withers, kept her hands light on his mouth and her body in a relaxed position. He would light up with speed if she so much as hinted she wanted any. He was more sensitive than Mastermind had been at this age, a more reactive horse than his older sibling. His hooves beat over the ground with focused control and his dark eyes cut over the course with such intensity. Ripley found herself at home aboard the Native Flame colt, more than she thought she would. She glanced under her arm to see Red Herring rocketing up on the inside rail. He barreled up alongside GS Royal Crown, mouth agape, wild mane flying like flame. He was not going to be outdone by some little kid. King's ears flapped against his neck briefly when Red Herring assumed the lead. A gentle touch from Ripley had the colt relaxing visibly on the outside.
Crow skipped over the dirt that Red and King kicked up. His dark brown eyes glimmered with focus as he took up his customary stalking position. Each stride of his was quick and he was more surefooted than any either of the males before him. He skimmed the rail as they cruised for the backstretch, his ears flicking above his head. He had the other horses measured and had learned what it meant to be patient since last season. With the time off, GS Royal Crown was ready to strike where it hurt the most. Maggie kept a solid hold on the gray's mouth, sure to remind him that this was not the time to run up and challenge the pair. He relaxed into the rein, stride becoming one of ease. Comfortable, Crow danced behind his opponents, prepared to wait them out.
Red Herring remained strong on the lead, wall eyes giving him the look of a crazed horse. He was muscular and tough. He was the complete opposite of Brookson's three year old mount In Front. In Front needed encouragement. Red Herring needed something to hold him back from burning out everything he had on the lead. The chestnut stallion cruised over the course, steadying himself as he realized this would be a longer workout, one made to calm him. Brooks kept a keen blue eye on Ripley, kept his ears peeled for Maggie. The blond woman was riding in the perfect spot and would have a slightly fresher horse in the home stretch when they came back around. Red snorted, pinned his ears when King switched leads and came in a little bit on the turn. The dashing son of Native Flame simply flicked his ears, bounded up to put some pressure on the older horse.
Ripley grinned at the dangerous feeling that spread from King to her through the reins. This colt was brave, maybe a little foolish at this age, but mentally he was tough. He would not be bullied by the larger, more capable stallion. He would not wave a flag of surrender. King rolled alongside Red Herring with consummate professionalism. He settled into the bridle, flicked his ears and did just as he was asked. Ripley leaned close as the speed picked up down the homestretch. After the far turn, Red Herring would bullet away from them as he was wont to do in the beginning of a workout. It was six furlongs of hard trying speed and a little measure of stamina. She could feel the energy in Sun King, knew he would be prepared to do his best.
Maggie kept a watchful eye on Brookson Well's grip on the reins. A flicker of movement would release his burly stallion, would tell Maggie whether she needed to bide her time or pour it on right from the get-go. Crow stiffened up when he became aware of his rider's alert position. His ears pinned to his neck and every other breath was a snorting one. She kept her grip the same, willed Crow to stay in the pocket for as long as possible. Red was bullish on the rail and King was known to go a little wide on the turns. Crow would have to go the widest distance of all. Saving ground now was imperative.
The reins whistled through Brooks' clever hands the minute Red Herring zoomed into the backstretch. His form launched off of his muscular hind end and rocketed away from his workmates before they so much as blinked. Red's late speed was killer. It made his opponents go with him because he sure as hell wasn't going to stop. He thundered up the track, a solid lead of three lengths parting him and Sun King. Brooks took hold on the burly animal, confident he could rein him in. There was five furlongs left to go. Crow was going to be coming.
Maggie had seen the rail position the minute Red Herring took off. Before Ripley could close the hole with her less experienced mount, GS Royal Crown was already in the vacated spot. Ripley shot an annoyed glance in Maggie's direction, but could not fault the rider for being aggressive. Sun King would have to go wide the whole time and still have to fight with the older stallions. The chestnut colt took in a great breath just before turn, swapped leads and took on a furious facade. He ran beat for beat with GS Royal Crown who was fresh and full of himself. The more aerodynamic gray ran with efficiency and neatly sliced the turn with his agile strides. Just as Maggie had expected, Sun King drifted four wide off the turn. She gave herself a nod of approval, shook the reins at Crow and sent him flying.
The gray horse soared up the track after Red Herring, mane and tail flying behind him like proud banners. His swift strides carried him over the course and had him closing the gap with near brilliance. Having learned her lesson last week, Maggie went into overdrive, heeling the gray colt forward and clucking her tongue. Spurred into fury, Crow bore down on Red Herring, engaged him ferociously. The chestnut and gray battled furiously through the remaining yards of the workout, trailed by the younger chestnut colt.
Ripley was still as a stone as Sun King soared over the course. He was beautiful and full of run, but his speed was not quite able to match Red Herring or GS Royal Crown. Even after all the distance and furious run from start to finish, the Native Flame colt was only beaten by one and half lengths. Ripley slapped the colt's neck in approval, eyes glinting. He had plenty to learn, but against his own generation, King was at the top of his class. She brought the chestnut to a jog, nodded at Brooks and Maggie as they brought their stallions back. "That was a pretty impressive workout for your two. Very impressive. I'm thinking we'll have some great performances in two weeks!"
February Week Four
Lethal Dose & Dirty Diana.
over the limit
"You can't fight with Diana. She'll kick you off faster than you can blink if you so much as try. She may seem goofy, but there is spite under all that joking appearance..." Laura grunted as she dodged sharp flying hooves while doing up the girth of Lethal Dose. "Got ya." Laura jolted back, pressing a sweaty palm against the stall door, her other wiped dripping sweat from her brow. It was only February for God's sakes and here she was sweating like a pig. Her green eyes crackled as the uncooperative filly twisted her head as much as she could to glare at Laura. Dislike and defiance simmered between the human and horse, and it was more than obvious to outsiders such as Reese Balling Jones.
The dark haired woman stifled a laugh as best she could, her brown eyes admiring both human and horse. Laura had more patience than any of them... Nah, not patience, Reese decided. It was more likely a trait of being a stubborn mule that brought Laura together with the most hard to handle creatures of Witch Creek Stable. Hard to handle mares with horrible attitudes. Reese swung around, tightening her helmet strap as she turned, to appraise her mount for this coupled workout. Dirty Diana, 16.1 hands of marvelous gray roan muscle, eyed her with suspicion and general unease. She was used to being handled by Laura and seemed to faintly dislike the rebellious filly that captured Laura's intention instead. It was that dislike that had allowed Reese to get away with grooming and tacking. Dirty Diana was known to be a minx of sorts and famous for the use of her pearly white teeth on human skin. Reese brushed some lint off her shirt, analyzing Diana without being too obvious.
Dirty Diana, a daughter of All For Glory, was as sleekly built as they came. Her hide shimmered in the afternoon lighting, each muscle was on brilliant display. Her eyes were lively, her hooves picked and her mane and tail were groomed to perfection. Laura put a ton of work into her disgruntled mares. The work was displayed in the results. Dirty Diana had won three races in the season so far, her last win being impressive to say the least. She was on an upward trend and Reese was excited to hop on her to help the trend continue. Her next start in the Spring Cup Grade Three Dirt would be under Laura's keen direction. But it never hurt to have someone else get on and assess.
Laura unclipped the cross-ties attached to Lethal Dose's head. The bay filly eyed her with contempt, drew in a deep breath as if memorizing her enemy's scent for later. Laura met the filly's eyes with a look of matched contempt, knowing that the majority of the attitude was bravado. Lee was all attitude and rightly so. Her handling as a youngster had often been interrupted, surprising for Intrepid Racing, but it was what it was. Laura tugged lightly on the reins, minutely pleased when Lethal Dose stepped up alongside of her. Her ears were pricked, her face-long stripe causing her to look highly intelligent. She was highly intelligent. Lee had proved it on a number of occasions. She followed Laura from the barn, nickered when they stepped into the sunlight. Laura stepped back, admired the beautiful filly. She was an odd bay color, almost metallic beneath the suns rays. Her body was strong and almost male-like. She had the look of a brawler and on numerous times had backed it up. She had several scars on her chest where she must have run into a fence at one time. She was beautiful and strong, the perfect package.
Laura did not ease into the saddle with this one. Lee began to prance in place, tossing her head and jerking sideways which meant Laura had about ten seconds before Lee bolted and was done for the day. Laura obliged, leaping onto the stout filly's back, landing with a soft grunt. Lee lifted into a half-rear, posed there for a moment before trotting after a sassy Dirty Diana. Laura let out a sigh of relief. She didn't need any more trouble on her hands. This workout was going to be fascinating to say the least.
Dirty Diana pranced onto the dirt track, every muscle tense beneath her beautiful hide. Reese could feel the buck coming, nudged the mare forward into a canter-gallop before it could. Di bolted and then slammed to a stop, would have tossed Reese if the South American woman hadn't foreseen such a display. Lethal Dose glided by them, gawked at the mare and her rider until Laura straightened her out. Reese gritted her teeth, loosened the reins and waited until Diana decided she was going to move. Not one for standing around, the All For Glory mare stepped out into a deliberate gallop, cruising along as though she'd only wanted a minute to catch her breath. "Mares," Reese muttered.
Lethal Dose, a daughter of Lethal Knack and Sweet Catomine, bounded along with a ferocious stride. It was at once thunderous and dominating. She moved as though she sought revenge against the earth she ran over. Her strides were long and focused. Her muscled frame cruised over the dirt with unfair ease. She'd had two starts, one at the age of two and one at the age of three. Her last start under Laura had been a disaster. Lethal Dose had rushed out of the gate, ran into traffic and tired herself out before anyone started the rail running. It had resulted in a dismal fifth place, but Laura was confident that victory was around the corner. Lethal Dose wouldn't be down for long. Now with this imperious, arrogant attitude.
The bay three year old had big dreams to fulfill and very little time to qualify for those dreams. A start in the Triple Tiara beckoned the Lethal Knack filly. It was a huge goal and Lee probably wasn't even close to being on a handicapper's radar. She didn't deserve to be. But she would. Laura leaned close to Lee's neck as she roared up the backstretch, big stride eating yards of dirt. Laura peeked under her shoulder, nodded when she found Dirty Diana as expected lingering three lengths back. There was a furlong left to the quick gallop and then Lee and Diana would be working out for five furlongs. Laura kept her hands light on Lee's mouth, impressed that the disgruntled filly was so malleable under saddle.
"Man, she saw something in you alright." Reese felt a chill run up her spine as Dirty Diana practically pulled Reese out of the saddle. The rose gray mare was so into the bridle, so ready to do some running. She was a serious racehorse. With every bounding stride, Reese could tell Dirty Diana meant serious business. The woman stood in the saddle as Lethal Dose clicked up into a faster gear. The bay filly spurted away to a four length lead, under zero pressure from Laura. Reese did not have to ask Diana to pick it up. She sped into a high cruising speed, closed up the distance to two lengths by the time they hit the third furlong.
Lee's ears pinned down when Dirty Diana rounded up a length behind her on the far turn. Laura loosened the reins, nodded in approval when the filly took advantage of the added rein and dashed into the homestretch. Laura knew Dirty Diana was going to be a handful for Lethal Dose. The gray mare had been showing signs of rapid improvement. Lethal Dose would have to be special in order to keep her at bay. Laura remained still in the saddle, blue eyes on the wire, a stretch length away. She looked to the side, shook her head. "Shit."
Reese practically mouthed the words Laura said. Dirty Diana had taken off like a rocket upon asking and was roaring up alongside Lethal Dose in a matter of seconds. The bay filly and gray mare pinned their ears at each other, gunned forward at high speed. Laura was impressed by the bull-doggedness with which Lethal Dose ran. She was tough on Dirty Diana, refused to let that foe get by. Laura and Reese both had their hands glued to the female horses' withers, letting each do the work. Encouragement was for the real race, which today was not.
Dirty Diana was bolstered by fury that she could not get past this rival. She was so used to just overwhelming her competition late in the game and this one was not going down easy. The gray mare gritted her teeth, yanked down to pull Reese up even further and got the most of her stride at the wire. She hit the wire a nose in front, but Lethal Dose was back in the lead and galloping out like a champ. The gray mare's eyes blazed with irritation and annoyance. Reese could only smile and pat the grand mare's neck when she greeted the returning three year old with bared teeth and swift hooves.
Lee danced away from the older mare, pinned her ears and bared her own teeth. If Dirty Diana pressed the subject, Lee would return the aggression. Laura patted the filly's neck, impressed by her. For such a lightly raced filly, she could run a heck of a final quarter. And that wasn't even asking for her very best. Laura patted the three year old's shoulder, grinned at Ripley when the trainer stepped up to the gap. "Very nice for both of them. We may have top dirt mares yet."
The dark haired woman stifled a laugh as best she could, her brown eyes admiring both human and horse. Laura had more patience than any of them... Nah, not patience, Reese decided. It was more likely a trait of being a stubborn mule that brought Laura together with the most hard to handle creatures of Witch Creek Stable. Hard to handle mares with horrible attitudes. Reese swung around, tightening her helmet strap as she turned, to appraise her mount for this coupled workout. Dirty Diana, 16.1 hands of marvelous gray roan muscle, eyed her with suspicion and general unease. She was used to being handled by Laura and seemed to faintly dislike the rebellious filly that captured Laura's intention instead. It was that dislike that had allowed Reese to get away with grooming and tacking. Dirty Diana was known to be a minx of sorts and famous for the use of her pearly white teeth on human skin. Reese brushed some lint off her shirt, analyzing Diana without being too obvious.
Dirty Diana, a daughter of All For Glory, was as sleekly built as they came. Her hide shimmered in the afternoon lighting, each muscle was on brilliant display. Her eyes were lively, her hooves picked and her mane and tail were groomed to perfection. Laura put a ton of work into her disgruntled mares. The work was displayed in the results. Dirty Diana had won three races in the season so far, her last win being impressive to say the least. She was on an upward trend and Reese was excited to hop on her to help the trend continue. Her next start in the Spring Cup Grade Three Dirt would be under Laura's keen direction. But it never hurt to have someone else get on and assess.
Laura unclipped the cross-ties attached to Lethal Dose's head. The bay filly eyed her with contempt, drew in a deep breath as if memorizing her enemy's scent for later. Laura met the filly's eyes with a look of matched contempt, knowing that the majority of the attitude was bravado. Lee was all attitude and rightly so. Her handling as a youngster had often been interrupted, surprising for Intrepid Racing, but it was what it was. Laura tugged lightly on the reins, minutely pleased when Lethal Dose stepped up alongside of her. Her ears were pricked, her face-long stripe causing her to look highly intelligent. She was highly intelligent. Lee had proved it on a number of occasions. She followed Laura from the barn, nickered when they stepped into the sunlight. Laura stepped back, admired the beautiful filly. She was an odd bay color, almost metallic beneath the suns rays. Her body was strong and almost male-like. She had the look of a brawler and on numerous times had backed it up. She had several scars on her chest where she must have run into a fence at one time. She was beautiful and strong, the perfect package.
Laura did not ease into the saddle with this one. Lee began to prance in place, tossing her head and jerking sideways which meant Laura had about ten seconds before Lee bolted and was done for the day. Laura obliged, leaping onto the stout filly's back, landing with a soft grunt. Lee lifted into a half-rear, posed there for a moment before trotting after a sassy Dirty Diana. Laura let out a sigh of relief. She didn't need any more trouble on her hands. This workout was going to be fascinating to say the least.
Dirty Diana pranced onto the dirt track, every muscle tense beneath her beautiful hide. Reese could feel the buck coming, nudged the mare forward into a canter-gallop before it could. Di bolted and then slammed to a stop, would have tossed Reese if the South American woman hadn't foreseen such a display. Lethal Dose glided by them, gawked at the mare and her rider until Laura straightened her out. Reese gritted her teeth, loosened the reins and waited until Diana decided she was going to move. Not one for standing around, the All For Glory mare stepped out into a deliberate gallop, cruising along as though she'd only wanted a minute to catch her breath. "Mares," Reese muttered.
Lethal Dose, a daughter of Lethal Knack and Sweet Catomine, bounded along with a ferocious stride. It was at once thunderous and dominating. She moved as though she sought revenge against the earth she ran over. Her strides were long and focused. Her muscled frame cruised over the dirt with unfair ease. She'd had two starts, one at the age of two and one at the age of three. Her last start under Laura had been a disaster. Lethal Dose had rushed out of the gate, ran into traffic and tired herself out before anyone started the rail running. It had resulted in a dismal fifth place, but Laura was confident that victory was around the corner. Lethal Dose wouldn't be down for long. Now with this imperious, arrogant attitude.
The bay three year old had big dreams to fulfill and very little time to qualify for those dreams. A start in the Triple Tiara beckoned the Lethal Knack filly. It was a huge goal and Lee probably wasn't even close to being on a handicapper's radar. She didn't deserve to be. But she would. Laura leaned close to Lee's neck as she roared up the backstretch, big stride eating yards of dirt. Laura peeked under her shoulder, nodded when she found Dirty Diana as expected lingering three lengths back. There was a furlong left to the quick gallop and then Lee and Diana would be working out for five furlongs. Laura kept her hands light on Lee's mouth, impressed that the disgruntled filly was so malleable under saddle.
"Man, she saw something in you alright." Reese felt a chill run up her spine as Dirty Diana practically pulled Reese out of the saddle. The rose gray mare was so into the bridle, so ready to do some running. She was a serious racehorse. With every bounding stride, Reese could tell Dirty Diana meant serious business. The woman stood in the saddle as Lethal Dose clicked up into a faster gear. The bay filly spurted away to a four length lead, under zero pressure from Laura. Reese did not have to ask Diana to pick it up. She sped into a high cruising speed, closed up the distance to two lengths by the time they hit the third furlong.
Lee's ears pinned down when Dirty Diana rounded up a length behind her on the far turn. Laura loosened the reins, nodded in approval when the filly took advantage of the added rein and dashed into the homestretch. Laura knew Dirty Diana was going to be a handful for Lethal Dose. The gray mare had been showing signs of rapid improvement. Lethal Dose would have to be special in order to keep her at bay. Laura remained still in the saddle, blue eyes on the wire, a stretch length away. She looked to the side, shook her head. "Shit."
Reese practically mouthed the words Laura said. Dirty Diana had taken off like a rocket upon asking and was roaring up alongside Lethal Dose in a matter of seconds. The bay filly and gray mare pinned their ears at each other, gunned forward at high speed. Laura was impressed by the bull-doggedness with which Lethal Dose ran. She was tough on Dirty Diana, refused to let that foe get by. Laura and Reese both had their hands glued to the female horses' withers, letting each do the work. Encouragement was for the real race, which today was not.
Dirty Diana was bolstered by fury that she could not get past this rival. She was so used to just overwhelming her competition late in the game and this one was not going down easy. The gray mare gritted her teeth, yanked down to pull Reese up even further and got the most of her stride at the wire. She hit the wire a nose in front, but Lethal Dose was back in the lead and galloping out like a champ. The gray mare's eyes blazed with irritation and annoyance. Reese could only smile and pat the grand mare's neck when she greeted the returning three year old with bared teeth and swift hooves.
Lee danced away from the older mare, pinned her ears and bared her own teeth. If Dirty Diana pressed the subject, Lee would return the aggression. Laura patted the filly's neck, impressed by her. For such a lightly raced filly, she could run a heck of a final quarter. And that wasn't even asking for her very best. Laura patted the three year old's shoulder, grinned at Ripley when the trainer stepped up to the gap. "Very nice for both of them. We may have top dirt mares yet."