March Week Two
Dirty Diana & Optimus Unstoppable
Lethal Dose & GS Royal Crown & Saintly Touch
Prima Donna & Bella Luna & Calamity Queen
Mastermind & Hokum
Spotlight Pride & Casualty Of War & Wishing For A Heroine
Lethal Dose & GS Royal Crown & Saintly Touch
Prima Donna & Bella Luna & Calamity Queen
Mastermind & Hokum
Spotlight Pride & Casualty Of War & Wishing For A Heroine
optimum rating
Brooks hummed a soft tune as he ran a soft cloth over Optimus Unstoppable's dark bay body. The colt leaned into the pressure, dark eyes filled with contentment and a little laziness. The Shiver Me Timber's colt looked nothing like the speedy, gutsy sprinter that had won two races back off a long layoff. He hadn't been to an outside racetrack for a month, had been lazing around Witch Creek property in between gallops and seemed as though he'd gained refreshment from the time off. His dainty ears flicked back now and then, listening to Brooks as he moved the cloth over his sprinter frame. Optimus was going into his next start, the Motion Sprint, very well rested. Today's workout, Brooks' was sure, would only enhance the colt's attitude going into his first major race of the season.
Brooks had never ridden a major sprint race before, was looking forward to enhancing that portion of his resume. It was all about timing, sheer luck and having the fastest horse out on the racetrack. Brooks, having ridden plenty of fast horses in his time, could say that Optimus rated up there. At least on his list. Maybe not Ripley's, but it was rare that you came across such superstars as Mastermind and Cross My Heart in one crop of horses. Brooks patted Optimus' neck smiling when the colt turned to eye him. "I promise I'm not saying anything bad about you handsome. Just saying we've got some big shoes to fill. But plenty of time to get there." The colt snorted, indicating he wasn't convinced. Brooks shrugged his shoulders, smiled a little.
Optimus' ears pricked up when Laura stepped into the three year old barn with Dirty Diana in tow. The pink roan mare strutted into the stable, neck bowed, mane waving at the crest. Her dark eyes were full of life and excitement. She was clearly feeling back on her game after a defeat at the ends of Ramirez last out. Laura was eager to get back on Diana, felt the affection pass between them through the reins. The All For Glory mare had spunk. She was coming into her own time, was making a quiet assault in the lower dirt mare ranks. Diana would get her chance to step up to the plate in the First Lady Cup. Eight furlongs over the dirt, exactly in the lean mare's wheelhouse. Laura nodded to Brooks, skimmed Optimus' frame. The colt was leaner than most sprinters, but he possessed a nice chest and solid shoulders. He looked like he was coming into form. Had looked even more so in his gallop yesterday. Laura was looking forward to facing off with the colt in today's workout.
"Ready when you are," she called. She promptly turned Dirty Diana around, led the sleek mare back out into the early morning. With a long list of workouts to be done today, Ripley had started the early morning program at 4:30. It was now 5 and they were on the verge of being late. Brooks followed, hustling Optimus up into a jog. The colt tossed his head in brief mutiny before kicking up his heels and throwing a playful buck. Brooks laughed after he heard those lifted hooves hit the rubber again. They did not need this colt coming up with an injury before his big race.
Outside, Laura was mounted up, clicking her helmet latch together. Her blue eyes flickered down to the dirt track, noted Ripley's presence. Her blue eyes filled with interest when she caught sight of Malcolm aboard Jabberwock and ponying the very beautiful Like A Lady. The daughter of Sweeto Cheeto and Ebony Gold Lady was a half-sister to Dazzling Dame, the only back-to-back winner of the Just A Game Stakes. There was no doubt that her jockey would be Justin Santiago. Already the kid was walking out of the trainer's box to admire the protege sister of his favored turf mare. Laura smiled, wondered who her mount would be the next season.
Her attention shifted rapidly when Optimus bolted into a fiery trot right in front of Dirty Diana's nose. The roan mare squealed in fury, pinning her ears in retaliation as the upstart steamrolled down the dirt path to the track. Laura nudged the mare with strong heels, gritted her teeth when Diana threw a brief buck and bolted after the younger horse. She'd long since gotten over the foolish playfulness of the younger generation. Dirty Diana was entering her prime and nothing, especially a reckless colt, was going to get in her way.
The star marked colt slowed to a show-offish prance once he hit the dirt track. He nickered smoothly at Like A Lady who returned his interest by pricking her ears and nickering softly. Jabberwock, the faithful babysitter and once a runner himself, pinned his ears in warning and used his intimidating physique to send Optimus on his way. Brooks chuckled, patted the colt's elegant neck. "You've got a couple years yet. And she has more." The colt moved into an easy canter up the track, ears pricked over his head, mouth gently feeling out the bit. It was clear that he was wondering what exactly was going to happen in today's workout. He'd been growing tired of just the normal mile and a quarter gallops and lately, his gallops had turned more into unwanted breezes. The energy was ripe for the taking.
Laura half-halted Dirty Diana, slowing her long enough to get instructions. The mare glared angrily after the sleek bay colt, wishing all sorts of vengeful things to come down on him. Laura stroked the mare's soft neck, nodded. "Mile gallop. Six furlong workout. Sounds go-" A jaunting explosion of horseflesh beneath Laura had her breaking off in midsentence and grabbing flying gray mane. Diana surged away, kicking up dirt that pelleted Jabberwock and Like A Lady, who skittered behind her protective body guard. Ripley cocked a brow, nodded to Justin and Malcolm and sprinted up to the trainer's box.
Laura leaned close, blue eyes filling with tears from the travel speed. The gray-roan covered the ground with magnificent strides, bounding across the dirt with brilliance. Dirty Diana was coming into her own alright and it was going to take a really good horse to take her down. Laura leaned close to the mare's neck, kept her hands light on the bit and finally felt the All For Glory mare settle into a confident stride. Optimus Unstoppable galloped eagerly two lengths in front, ears flicking back nervously at the sound of stampeding hooves. Brooks murmured to the colt, peeking under his shoulder to see that Dirty Diana was under a full head of steam. Definitely was going to be a hard workout today.
The Shiver Me Timbers colt settled into stride, covering the ground with efficient strides, though shorter than Diana's. He was a smaller horse, a tenacious one in personality. He wouldn't wave a flag of surrender when Dirty Diana came calling. Brooks heard Laura call the directions, nodded in approval. They had already scooted through four furlongs of the gallop portion. Nearly five as Optimus cruised beneath the furlong pole. Brooks felt relaxed aboard the flighty animal. Usually Optimus was a hard to handle type, but when eased into the hard speed, Optimus was a kindly as you pleased. Right now... he was very kind. He seemed to fly over the ground, ears going from pricked to pinned as he realized that today's agenda was much different from the past three week's agenda.
Dirty Diana made up a length on the bay colt as he flew back through the backstretch and prepared to speed into the 6 furlong workout. Laura leaned close, felt the tension in the reins and knew that Dirty Diana was very much about to commence her bid. Laura eased up to a tougher grip, releasing when Diana relaxed back down. It was going to be Laura's choosing when to run. The point of the workout was to make it tough, not make it a spectacle. Dirty Diana would simply blow by the bay three year old and keep right on going if she made her move at this point in the workout. Laura bided her time, finally gave the "go" when Optimus hit the middle of the far turn.
Brooks shook Optimus up the second he heard the stutter in Dirty Diana's hooves. She was about to come calling like a summer storm. The bay colt beneath him rocketed forward, neatly cutting the turn at nearly a right angle. Brooks' stirrup rapped loudly on the railing, but his brain was full of tactical plans and he barely heard it. In a mere second Dirty Diana's head was at Optimus' barrel. In two, the roan mare was storming head to head with the colt up the track.
The speed was intense and brutal as the pair surged over the course, legs flying beneath their athletic bodies. Optimus hung tough, digging in even as he grew slightly tired. He battle furiously with the larger mare to the line, his ears pinned flat to his neck, his legs gathering as much distance as possible. Laura kept her hands quiet on Dirty Diana and to everyone in the workout, except Optimus, that the mare could have blown by the gritty colt at a moment's notice. But she cruised beneath the wire, only a nose in front, galloped out as if she could have gone another round. Laura stood in the stirrups, slapped hands with Brooks as she returned, a smile lighting her features. Brooks patted his colt's neck, admired the bravery and courage of his little colt. There would be no Dirty Diana's in his next race. Up against his own age, Optimus would really find himself on a more level playing field. Brooks could hardly wait.
Brooks had never ridden a major sprint race before, was looking forward to enhancing that portion of his resume. It was all about timing, sheer luck and having the fastest horse out on the racetrack. Brooks, having ridden plenty of fast horses in his time, could say that Optimus rated up there. At least on his list. Maybe not Ripley's, but it was rare that you came across such superstars as Mastermind and Cross My Heart in one crop of horses. Brooks patted Optimus' neck smiling when the colt turned to eye him. "I promise I'm not saying anything bad about you handsome. Just saying we've got some big shoes to fill. But plenty of time to get there." The colt snorted, indicating he wasn't convinced. Brooks shrugged his shoulders, smiled a little.
Optimus' ears pricked up when Laura stepped into the three year old barn with Dirty Diana in tow. The pink roan mare strutted into the stable, neck bowed, mane waving at the crest. Her dark eyes were full of life and excitement. She was clearly feeling back on her game after a defeat at the ends of Ramirez last out. Laura was eager to get back on Diana, felt the affection pass between them through the reins. The All For Glory mare had spunk. She was coming into her own time, was making a quiet assault in the lower dirt mare ranks. Diana would get her chance to step up to the plate in the First Lady Cup. Eight furlongs over the dirt, exactly in the lean mare's wheelhouse. Laura nodded to Brooks, skimmed Optimus' frame. The colt was leaner than most sprinters, but he possessed a nice chest and solid shoulders. He looked like he was coming into form. Had looked even more so in his gallop yesterday. Laura was looking forward to facing off with the colt in today's workout.
"Ready when you are," she called. She promptly turned Dirty Diana around, led the sleek mare back out into the early morning. With a long list of workouts to be done today, Ripley had started the early morning program at 4:30. It was now 5 and they were on the verge of being late. Brooks followed, hustling Optimus up into a jog. The colt tossed his head in brief mutiny before kicking up his heels and throwing a playful buck. Brooks laughed after he heard those lifted hooves hit the rubber again. They did not need this colt coming up with an injury before his big race.
Outside, Laura was mounted up, clicking her helmet latch together. Her blue eyes flickered down to the dirt track, noted Ripley's presence. Her blue eyes filled with interest when she caught sight of Malcolm aboard Jabberwock and ponying the very beautiful Like A Lady. The daughter of Sweeto Cheeto and Ebony Gold Lady was a half-sister to Dazzling Dame, the only back-to-back winner of the Just A Game Stakes. There was no doubt that her jockey would be Justin Santiago. Already the kid was walking out of the trainer's box to admire the protege sister of his favored turf mare. Laura smiled, wondered who her mount would be the next season.
Her attention shifted rapidly when Optimus bolted into a fiery trot right in front of Dirty Diana's nose. The roan mare squealed in fury, pinning her ears in retaliation as the upstart steamrolled down the dirt path to the track. Laura nudged the mare with strong heels, gritted her teeth when Diana threw a brief buck and bolted after the younger horse. She'd long since gotten over the foolish playfulness of the younger generation. Dirty Diana was entering her prime and nothing, especially a reckless colt, was going to get in her way.
The star marked colt slowed to a show-offish prance once he hit the dirt track. He nickered smoothly at Like A Lady who returned his interest by pricking her ears and nickering softly. Jabberwock, the faithful babysitter and once a runner himself, pinned his ears in warning and used his intimidating physique to send Optimus on his way. Brooks chuckled, patted the colt's elegant neck. "You've got a couple years yet. And she has more." The colt moved into an easy canter up the track, ears pricked over his head, mouth gently feeling out the bit. It was clear that he was wondering what exactly was going to happen in today's workout. He'd been growing tired of just the normal mile and a quarter gallops and lately, his gallops had turned more into unwanted breezes. The energy was ripe for the taking.
Laura half-halted Dirty Diana, slowing her long enough to get instructions. The mare glared angrily after the sleek bay colt, wishing all sorts of vengeful things to come down on him. Laura stroked the mare's soft neck, nodded. "Mile gallop. Six furlong workout. Sounds go-" A jaunting explosion of horseflesh beneath Laura had her breaking off in midsentence and grabbing flying gray mane. Diana surged away, kicking up dirt that pelleted Jabberwock and Like A Lady, who skittered behind her protective body guard. Ripley cocked a brow, nodded to Justin and Malcolm and sprinted up to the trainer's box.
Laura leaned close, blue eyes filling with tears from the travel speed. The gray-roan covered the ground with magnificent strides, bounding across the dirt with brilliance. Dirty Diana was coming into her own alright and it was going to take a really good horse to take her down. Laura leaned close to the mare's neck, kept her hands light on the bit and finally felt the All For Glory mare settle into a confident stride. Optimus Unstoppable galloped eagerly two lengths in front, ears flicking back nervously at the sound of stampeding hooves. Brooks murmured to the colt, peeking under his shoulder to see that Dirty Diana was under a full head of steam. Definitely was going to be a hard workout today.
The Shiver Me Timbers colt settled into stride, covering the ground with efficient strides, though shorter than Diana's. He was a smaller horse, a tenacious one in personality. He wouldn't wave a flag of surrender when Dirty Diana came calling. Brooks heard Laura call the directions, nodded in approval. They had already scooted through four furlongs of the gallop portion. Nearly five as Optimus cruised beneath the furlong pole. Brooks felt relaxed aboard the flighty animal. Usually Optimus was a hard to handle type, but when eased into the hard speed, Optimus was a kindly as you pleased. Right now... he was very kind. He seemed to fly over the ground, ears going from pricked to pinned as he realized that today's agenda was much different from the past three week's agenda.
Dirty Diana made up a length on the bay colt as he flew back through the backstretch and prepared to speed into the 6 furlong workout. Laura leaned close, felt the tension in the reins and knew that Dirty Diana was very much about to commence her bid. Laura eased up to a tougher grip, releasing when Diana relaxed back down. It was going to be Laura's choosing when to run. The point of the workout was to make it tough, not make it a spectacle. Dirty Diana would simply blow by the bay three year old and keep right on going if she made her move at this point in the workout. Laura bided her time, finally gave the "go" when Optimus hit the middle of the far turn.
Brooks shook Optimus up the second he heard the stutter in Dirty Diana's hooves. She was about to come calling like a summer storm. The bay colt beneath him rocketed forward, neatly cutting the turn at nearly a right angle. Brooks' stirrup rapped loudly on the railing, but his brain was full of tactical plans and he barely heard it. In a mere second Dirty Diana's head was at Optimus' barrel. In two, the roan mare was storming head to head with the colt up the track.
The speed was intense and brutal as the pair surged over the course, legs flying beneath their athletic bodies. Optimus hung tough, digging in even as he grew slightly tired. He battle furiously with the larger mare to the line, his ears pinned flat to his neck, his legs gathering as much distance as possible. Laura kept her hands quiet on Dirty Diana and to everyone in the workout, except Optimus, that the mare could have blown by the gritty colt at a moment's notice. But she cruised beneath the wire, only a nose in front, galloped out as if she could have gone another round. Laura stood in the stirrups, slapped hands with Brooks as she returned, a smile lighting her features. Brooks patted his colt's neck, admired the bravery and courage of his little colt. There would be no Dirty Diana's in his next race. Up against his own age, Optimus would really find himself on a more level playing field. Brooks could hardly wait.
lethal touch
A light fog drifted in after the first morning set, dousing the property in cool mist and the suffocating sound of silence. It was a good morning to be out and Ripley Marsh was more than ready to continue with the days exercise. Most of her horses would be heading either to The Wire or Green Horse Fields this coming week and the races during this particular week would be important. The Wire Finish Cup awaited two horses in this next set: Saintly Touch and GS Royal Crown. Lethal Dose would head to the competitive Youpeeline Derby to assert herself at least in some way as a potential threat for the Triple Tiara in May. That filly was on an arduous journey that would bring her face to face with the best of her generation. It was unknown if she could compete with the best, but her maiden win had suggested enough fire and speed to be just a notch behind them.
Laura was battling with the mulish filly at this very moment. Her blue eyes were lit with fire as Lethal Dose flung her head into the air, refusing to have the bit pulled into her mouth. Her brown eyes were lit with fury and defiance. It was clear that she was all about giving Laura a hard time. Ripley eyed the pair as she gently pulled the bit into the mouth of her mount. Saintly Touch, the seal brown son of Night Stalker and The Devil's Touch, watched the action before him intently, hoof cocked in relaxation. He was a more relaxed colt than most of the other two year olds. He had demon in him, but luckily it only came out once Ripley was on his back. His one good eye flickered briefly over Ripley as she rubbed his cheekbone. The colt leaned into the pressure, relaxed as can be.
He was an extremely professional two year old, by far Ripley's most relaxed juvenile since she began her career. Yet, on the track he was an absolute demon. He showed no mercy to his competition, expected none, and was tough as nails to beat. In fact, he hadn't been beaten yet. She'd learned all this in his first two races of his juvenile career in January. It was now March and the colt was plenty revitalized to take on what was looking to be the strongest juvenile field of the Finish Cup.
Laura finally pulled the bit into Lee's mouth, slapped the filly's neck triumphantly. "Ha! You can't just let me do it one time without putting up a fight." The unrefined filly cocked her head, eying Laura with deep suspicion. She liked Laura, but sometimes even she found it hard to tolerate this skinny human. Both horses looked up at the sound of horse shoes on the gravel. GS Royal Crown, gorgeous gray stallion that he was, stood outside of the barn, hide glimmering with the care of a perfectionist. Maggie Reynolds sat in the saddle, blue eyes glimmering with irritation and competitiveness. "Star Thoroughbreds just entered Blue Me Away in the Mile. They can't just cut the smaller division one bit of slack can they? Honestly, you should just enter Cross My Heart to spite them. That'll teach their overachieving front runner something. He wants to play cat and mouse, let him play with her. She'll run him down real good."
Ripley and Laura exchanged a glance at the violence that simmered in Maggie's voice. "Well, I'm not entering Cross, but we'll make sure to have Crow ready to run with him. Blue Me Away is on the same streak Silent Fury was on. Eventually, he'll come down from it. Every horse goes through their cycle. And Crow is really coming into his. Ripley eyed the stallion affectionately and truly realized how handsome the gray horse looked these days. Maggie and Brooks had been putting in a ton of work with the well-lined horse and it was beginning to show.
"A mile and a quarter gallop. Four furlong breeze will do the trick."
....................................................................................
As soon as the trio of horses stepped foot on the track, Lethal Dose lifted into a hot-blooded rear. The molten colored filly pounded the air with flint sharp hooves, demanding attention from Touch Up whose paddock ran alongside the dirt track. The stallion began to pace the fence, eying the challenging filly. Laura slammed her back to the ground with her weight, admired the filly's defiance as she took off at a soaring gallop. Her legs ate up the earth as her body turned more into a machine and less of a horse. She wasn't a beautiful creature, but in flight she was terrifyingly perfect. Laura held on to the filly's mane, nearly laughing from the excitement. Lee could leave any horse floundering in her wake. It was just getting her reined in enough to do it during the running of a race.
GS Royal Crown bolted after Lethal Dose, gray legs slashing beneath him like the pistons of a ship. He was not impressed by the up start filly, would punish her for her overeagerness. The stud followed like a shadow, moving up at a rapid rate until he was by her side down the backstretch. Maggie stood in the saddle, blue eyes glimmering with happiness. Her stallion could always make her happy, even when she was at her most irritated state. Maggie leaned forward, rested her hands at his withers as he settled into his fierce stride. Crow had never been one for romantic galloping. He charged with ferocity and anger. He was a spiteful animal and would do whatever it took to win.
Saintly Touch galloped powerfully behind the older pair of horses. His eye glinted with calculating anger and each stride he took rumbled ominously in the atmosphere. The seal brown colt was very tough, very ready to go head to head with these older horses. Ripley kept the colt locked in, felt him on the bridle and knew that when the time came she would have a ton of horse. She would find out just how good he was today. Ripley leaned close, green eyes sharp with tactical plans. Her auburn hair meshed with the colt's wild mane as he put on a burst of speed to come into contact with the older pair. He was third by one and a half lengths. Lethal Dose and GS Royal Crown went head to head and Ripley knew that when the time came, Blue Me Away was not going to be alone on the lead. GS Royal Crown would keep him company right until that last furlong. Maggie wanted that win badly for her horse. Wanting it desperately could be the key to getting the victory.
The trio of horses settled down as they cruised beneath the wire the first time. Saintly Touch still remained the threatening dark presence, loomed large in the first turn, but on Ripley's bidding he backed off and fell to the rail to save the most ground. Laura peeked under her arm, watchful and wary of the Night Stalker colt. He may be the youngest horse, but he sure as hell could pack a punch to say the least. Lee was moving like a champ beneath her, really sticking it to GS Royal Crown. Her muscles were full of adrenaline and her blood was hot. It was almost time for that the four furlong flight to the wire. Laura lowered her hands on the filly's neck, tightening just slightly as the horse swooped beneath that marker, releasing them with a breath.
Lethal Dose and GS Royal Crown surged away from Saintly Touch in tandem. The bay filly and steel gray stallion rocketed forward with giant, swooping strides. Neither would give the other an advantage today. Lee pinned her ears when she found the horse at her throatlatch after two furlongs of running. Maggie felt devious as she let one notch out of Crow at a time. Each time she encouraged he spurted forward to make amends for the gap. At the turn he was a nose in front. Laura shook Lee up, grinned when the bay filly took Crow wide. The horrified look on Maggie's face made Laura smarten up. The horseflesh that brushed her inside leg, made her face goes white with shock.
The women stared as Saintly Touch, the near black demon himself, hurtled through a hole half his size. Ripley looked like a fairy riding the demon horse up the track, her hands low on his neck, her voice chipper with thrilling adrenaline. Laura and Maggie set their horses down for the drive as Saint drew off by two under some encouragement. Crow and Lee retaliated with fierce and aggressive speed, reeling in the colt with magnificent strides. The older pair had what looked like the two year olds number, drawing alongside of him with pinned ears. But Saint only pinned his and gave more. Together the trio bore down beneath the wire with GS Royal Crown, maybe, a nose in front.
The riders pulled up, exchanging stunned and excited glances. Ripley stroked her near black colt's neck, eyes filled with eagerness. Yes, Saintly Touch was ready to get back to work. She could hardly wait for the The Wire Finish Cup now. He was going to do his best to take the track by storm. Lethal Dose flashed her teeth at Saint and Crow as they came too close, her attitude filled her aura up with negativity. She was not going to stand for getting beaten twice. She'd had her taste of victory and she was going to get to that winner's circle again. Whatever it took. Those sentiments were echoed ferociously in Maggie's mind as she patted Crow's neck. The stallion pranced proudly off the track, looking more than ready to back up Maggie's inner-declaration.
Laura was battling with the mulish filly at this very moment. Her blue eyes were lit with fire as Lethal Dose flung her head into the air, refusing to have the bit pulled into her mouth. Her brown eyes were lit with fury and defiance. It was clear that she was all about giving Laura a hard time. Ripley eyed the pair as she gently pulled the bit into the mouth of her mount. Saintly Touch, the seal brown son of Night Stalker and The Devil's Touch, watched the action before him intently, hoof cocked in relaxation. He was a more relaxed colt than most of the other two year olds. He had demon in him, but luckily it only came out once Ripley was on his back. His one good eye flickered briefly over Ripley as she rubbed his cheekbone. The colt leaned into the pressure, relaxed as can be.
He was an extremely professional two year old, by far Ripley's most relaxed juvenile since she began her career. Yet, on the track he was an absolute demon. He showed no mercy to his competition, expected none, and was tough as nails to beat. In fact, he hadn't been beaten yet. She'd learned all this in his first two races of his juvenile career in January. It was now March and the colt was plenty revitalized to take on what was looking to be the strongest juvenile field of the Finish Cup.
Laura finally pulled the bit into Lee's mouth, slapped the filly's neck triumphantly. "Ha! You can't just let me do it one time without putting up a fight." The unrefined filly cocked her head, eying Laura with deep suspicion. She liked Laura, but sometimes even she found it hard to tolerate this skinny human. Both horses looked up at the sound of horse shoes on the gravel. GS Royal Crown, gorgeous gray stallion that he was, stood outside of the barn, hide glimmering with the care of a perfectionist. Maggie Reynolds sat in the saddle, blue eyes glimmering with irritation and competitiveness. "Star Thoroughbreds just entered Blue Me Away in the Mile. They can't just cut the smaller division one bit of slack can they? Honestly, you should just enter Cross My Heart to spite them. That'll teach their overachieving front runner something. He wants to play cat and mouse, let him play with her. She'll run him down real good."
Ripley and Laura exchanged a glance at the violence that simmered in Maggie's voice. "Well, I'm not entering Cross, but we'll make sure to have Crow ready to run with him. Blue Me Away is on the same streak Silent Fury was on. Eventually, he'll come down from it. Every horse goes through their cycle. And Crow is really coming into his. Ripley eyed the stallion affectionately and truly realized how handsome the gray horse looked these days. Maggie and Brooks had been putting in a ton of work with the well-lined horse and it was beginning to show.
"A mile and a quarter gallop. Four furlong breeze will do the trick."
....................................................................................
As soon as the trio of horses stepped foot on the track, Lethal Dose lifted into a hot-blooded rear. The molten colored filly pounded the air with flint sharp hooves, demanding attention from Touch Up whose paddock ran alongside the dirt track. The stallion began to pace the fence, eying the challenging filly. Laura slammed her back to the ground with her weight, admired the filly's defiance as she took off at a soaring gallop. Her legs ate up the earth as her body turned more into a machine and less of a horse. She wasn't a beautiful creature, but in flight she was terrifyingly perfect. Laura held on to the filly's mane, nearly laughing from the excitement. Lee could leave any horse floundering in her wake. It was just getting her reined in enough to do it during the running of a race.
GS Royal Crown bolted after Lethal Dose, gray legs slashing beneath him like the pistons of a ship. He was not impressed by the up start filly, would punish her for her overeagerness. The stud followed like a shadow, moving up at a rapid rate until he was by her side down the backstretch. Maggie stood in the saddle, blue eyes glimmering with happiness. Her stallion could always make her happy, even when she was at her most irritated state. Maggie leaned forward, rested her hands at his withers as he settled into his fierce stride. Crow had never been one for romantic galloping. He charged with ferocity and anger. He was a spiteful animal and would do whatever it took to win.
Saintly Touch galloped powerfully behind the older pair of horses. His eye glinted with calculating anger and each stride he took rumbled ominously in the atmosphere. The seal brown colt was very tough, very ready to go head to head with these older horses. Ripley kept the colt locked in, felt him on the bridle and knew that when the time came she would have a ton of horse. She would find out just how good he was today. Ripley leaned close, green eyes sharp with tactical plans. Her auburn hair meshed with the colt's wild mane as he put on a burst of speed to come into contact with the older pair. He was third by one and a half lengths. Lethal Dose and GS Royal Crown went head to head and Ripley knew that when the time came, Blue Me Away was not going to be alone on the lead. GS Royal Crown would keep him company right until that last furlong. Maggie wanted that win badly for her horse. Wanting it desperately could be the key to getting the victory.
The trio of horses settled down as they cruised beneath the wire the first time. Saintly Touch still remained the threatening dark presence, loomed large in the first turn, but on Ripley's bidding he backed off and fell to the rail to save the most ground. Laura peeked under her arm, watchful and wary of the Night Stalker colt. He may be the youngest horse, but he sure as hell could pack a punch to say the least. Lee was moving like a champ beneath her, really sticking it to GS Royal Crown. Her muscles were full of adrenaline and her blood was hot. It was almost time for that the four furlong flight to the wire. Laura lowered her hands on the filly's neck, tightening just slightly as the horse swooped beneath that marker, releasing them with a breath.
Lethal Dose and GS Royal Crown surged away from Saintly Touch in tandem. The bay filly and steel gray stallion rocketed forward with giant, swooping strides. Neither would give the other an advantage today. Lee pinned her ears when she found the horse at her throatlatch after two furlongs of running. Maggie felt devious as she let one notch out of Crow at a time. Each time she encouraged he spurted forward to make amends for the gap. At the turn he was a nose in front. Laura shook Lee up, grinned when the bay filly took Crow wide. The horrified look on Maggie's face made Laura smarten up. The horseflesh that brushed her inside leg, made her face goes white with shock.
The women stared as Saintly Touch, the near black demon himself, hurtled through a hole half his size. Ripley looked like a fairy riding the demon horse up the track, her hands low on his neck, her voice chipper with thrilling adrenaline. Laura and Maggie set their horses down for the drive as Saint drew off by two under some encouragement. Crow and Lee retaliated with fierce and aggressive speed, reeling in the colt with magnificent strides. The older pair had what looked like the two year olds number, drawing alongside of him with pinned ears. But Saint only pinned his and gave more. Together the trio bore down beneath the wire with GS Royal Crown, maybe, a nose in front.
The riders pulled up, exchanging stunned and excited glances. Ripley stroked her near black colt's neck, eyes filled with eagerness. Yes, Saintly Touch was ready to get back to work. She could hardly wait for the The Wire Finish Cup now. He was going to do his best to take the track by storm. Lethal Dose flashed her teeth at Saint and Crow as they came too close, her attitude filled her aura up with negativity. She was not going to stand for getting beaten twice. She'd had her taste of victory and she was going to get to that winner's circle again. Whatever it took. Those sentiments were echoed ferociously in Maggie's mind as she patted Crow's neck. The stallion pranced proudly off the track, looking more than ready to back up Maggie's inner-declaration.
dominatrix
Maggie hurried alongside Reese to ready their mounts for the next workout. Calamity Queen and Bella Luna were not appreciative of the rush. The gray Turf Triple Crown winner flashed her teeth more often than was her usual, way out of the ordinary if it were any other time in her career. Her last two losses were beginning to take a toll on her mental standpoint. She was becoming hyper-aggressive, physically tough in her workouts and was looking for a chance to take down her opponents. Her gallops against competition had gotten so rough since her loss, that Ripley had Reese gallop her alone over the course. On a fitness standpoint, Bella Luna was coming into the best shape of her career. Never before had she expressed such a will to beat down her rivals. Reese eagerly looked forward to the next race: The Wire Finish Cup Turf.
Maggie brushed Calamity Queen's forelock out of the mare's dark eyes. They gleamed with interest and excitement, her body was lean and tough. She too was coming off a loss and looking for vengeance. Maggie felt the hard muscle beneath the hide, had seen that need to win come into Calamity Queen's gaze plenty of times lately. She'd become a bit of a handful at the start of her workouts, eager to get moving and very hard to stop. She'd run two miles the other day, on the turf track and a half mile through the woodsy trail beyond the turf track. It had been a thrilling ride, but immensely terrifying for Ripley back at the three furlong flat when the bay mare hadn't returned right away.
"Ripley mentioned something like a mile and a half gallop with the three furlong breeze. She hasn't had us cover the full length of the course in some time." Maggie hummed at Reese's words. "I noticed that. Perhaps she thinks they need more, that they're too short?" Reese shrugged, but her brown eyes verified Maggie's words. Those had been the exact words of Malcolm Floyd, Ripley's trusted friend. Reese wasn't about to give away her source, so kept her tongue still in her mouth.
"Where's Justin," snapped Reese. "We don't have time to wait around for him. There's still two more workouts."
"I'm here. Don't let me hold you up. And let me just mention that I'm in the next two. I'm entitled to take my time with the first." His voice was heated as he halted at the entrance to the older horse barn. Beside him, Prima Donna gazed at Calamity Queen, her half-sister, and Bella Luna, with distaste and suspicion. The catlike filly stood arrogantly beside her rider, looking as gorgeous as ever. Fine boned in the head, muscled in the body, Prima Donna was the typical classic beauty of the thoroughbred racehorse. Reese shook her head, mumbled as she lead an uppity Bella Luna by Prima. CQ did not go by so easily, pinning her ears and squealing like the dragon mare she was.
The riders mounted up, Reese passed along the instructions and soon they were heading off to the turf track. Immediately, Bella Luna began to crow-hop, bounce in demand for release. Reese's typically well-personalitied horse danced like a cobra about to strike. The woman kept her seat nicely, signaling to the others to go on without her for a brief moment. Bella snorted, ears pricking, shaking with fury as CQ and Prima moved into controlled gallops. Reese sat through the rocking motion, appreciated the Royal Assault fillies from behind. Royal Assault babies had some brains at least. Reese shook the reins, jarring the bit in Bella Luna's teeth as the mare began to toss her head up and down.
Maggie and Justin didn't have to look back to know Bella Luna was giving a world of trouble. Come race day, she was going to be an absolute dervish for her rivals. Calamity Queen bowed her neck as she galloped up the first hill, legs beneath her, propelling her with power and strength. The Touch Up daughter definitely had an engine and her abnormally small size for being the daughter of two behemoths, lent her agility to go with it. She reached the crest of the hill before her leggier half-sister, pinned her ears when Prima did, indeed, reach her. Maggie jiggled the reins, grinned when Calamity Queen bolted down the hillside.
Justin sent Prima soaring after CQ, relished the athleticism of his filly. Prima was swift and extremely fleet-footed. She covered the ground with grand strides, easily matching up with Calamity Queen. She floated over the ground, a princess about to assume the queen's throne. Justin leaned close to her elegant neck, smiled when her ears pricked up. She was only getting better as she aged. Her attitude was a thing of beauty these days. She was the perfect combination of witchy and determined. She kept pace, settled into her high cruising stride and just waited for the time that she really would pounce on CQ.
Thunderous hoofbeats sounded behind the pair, signaling that Reese had released Bella Luna. They did not glance back, just accepted the fact that at some point in this mile and a half journey and before the three furlong flat they would be accompanied by the Turf Triple Crown winner.
Reese wrapped her fingers in the flying dark mane that snapped in the ferocious wind. Bella Luna ran with her head high, her lightly dappled body gleaming in the sunlight. She looked beautiful as she ran, a prince's horse that carried him to battle. She was mystical and very real all at once. Reese ripped her goggles up to her eyes, sighed in relief when the burning tears stopped. Bella could sure as hell fly when she wanted to. At the third hill, the gray mare had made up half the field, for she'd started the length of a valley behind. The sight of her opponents before her, encouraged her to keep running, though thankfully at a steadier pace. Reese spoke to the mare, delighted in wild joy, but wanted to remain calm. Someone had to in this partnership.
Calamity Queen and Prima picked it up as they approached the final hillside with Bella Luna trailing them by ten lengths. She was making them up, less wildly than before. Reese still had her hands full, but based on the energy she felt waving off the mare, she had enough horse for the three furlong flat. Justin and Maggie leaned down on their horses, scooted their hands down the mare's neck in excited encouragement. Calamity Queen tackled the hill with aplomb, beating Prima once again to the crest. The dark bay mare was learning to settle down and Maggie thanked God for it. She would need the additional energy to hold off the win-deprived Bella Luna and the up-and-coming Prima.
Prima lengthened her rangy form to cover the first furlong with smooth class. She really galloped with such control and command, giving the impression that she really could go on forever if need-be. Calamity Queen battled ferociously to a three quarter length lead, pinning her ears with distinct violence. Prima's ears flickered for a moment, causing Justin to take notice of what was coming up from behind them. He glanced under his arm, dark eyes widening when he saw Bella Luna bearing down on them with a full head of speed. The Turf Triple Crown winner swept between Calamity Queen and Prima Donna, flew to a three length lead before he could blink.
Maggie and Justin set their fillies to a drive, encouraging them with voice, hands and feet. The bays flew after Bella Luna in hopeless pursuit. Not a moment later, the beautiful gray soared beneath the final marker, making herself the winner of the workout. Prima pulled second, blitzing away from Calamity Queen at the last possible mount to get it by a half-length. Calamity Queen bared her teeth, full of fury and irritation. Someday it would be her turn to shine. Perhaps her turn would be in the Queen Cup. Maggie could only hope.
Maggie brushed Calamity Queen's forelock out of the mare's dark eyes. They gleamed with interest and excitement, her body was lean and tough. She too was coming off a loss and looking for vengeance. Maggie felt the hard muscle beneath the hide, had seen that need to win come into Calamity Queen's gaze plenty of times lately. She'd become a bit of a handful at the start of her workouts, eager to get moving and very hard to stop. She'd run two miles the other day, on the turf track and a half mile through the woodsy trail beyond the turf track. It had been a thrilling ride, but immensely terrifying for Ripley back at the three furlong flat when the bay mare hadn't returned right away.
"Ripley mentioned something like a mile and a half gallop with the three furlong breeze. She hasn't had us cover the full length of the course in some time." Maggie hummed at Reese's words. "I noticed that. Perhaps she thinks they need more, that they're too short?" Reese shrugged, but her brown eyes verified Maggie's words. Those had been the exact words of Malcolm Floyd, Ripley's trusted friend. Reese wasn't about to give away her source, so kept her tongue still in her mouth.
"Where's Justin," snapped Reese. "We don't have time to wait around for him. There's still two more workouts."
"I'm here. Don't let me hold you up. And let me just mention that I'm in the next two. I'm entitled to take my time with the first." His voice was heated as he halted at the entrance to the older horse barn. Beside him, Prima Donna gazed at Calamity Queen, her half-sister, and Bella Luna, with distaste and suspicion. The catlike filly stood arrogantly beside her rider, looking as gorgeous as ever. Fine boned in the head, muscled in the body, Prima Donna was the typical classic beauty of the thoroughbred racehorse. Reese shook her head, mumbled as she lead an uppity Bella Luna by Prima. CQ did not go by so easily, pinning her ears and squealing like the dragon mare she was.
The riders mounted up, Reese passed along the instructions and soon they were heading off to the turf track. Immediately, Bella Luna began to crow-hop, bounce in demand for release. Reese's typically well-personalitied horse danced like a cobra about to strike. The woman kept her seat nicely, signaling to the others to go on without her for a brief moment. Bella snorted, ears pricking, shaking with fury as CQ and Prima moved into controlled gallops. Reese sat through the rocking motion, appreciated the Royal Assault fillies from behind. Royal Assault babies had some brains at least. Reese shook the reins, jarring the bit in Bella Luna's teeth as the mare began to toss her head up and down.
Maggie and Justin didn't have to look back to know Bella Luna was giving a world of trouble. Come race day, she was going to be an absolute dervish for her rivals. Calamity Queen bowed her neck as she galloped up the first hill, legs beneath her, propelling her with power and strength. The Touch Up daughter definitely had an engine and her abnormally small size for being the daughter of two behemoths, lent her agility to go with it. She reached the crest of the hill before her leggier half-sister, pinned her ears when Prima did, indeed, reach her. Maggie jiggled the reins, grinned when Calamity Queen bolted down the hillside.
Justin sent Prima soaring after CQ, relished the athleticism of his filly. Prima was swift and extremely fleet-footed. She covered the ground with grand strides, easily matching up with Calamity Queen. She floated over the ground, a princess about to assume the queen's throne. Justin leaned close to her elegant neck, smiled when her ears pricked up. She was only getting better as she aged. Her attitude was a thing of beauty these days. She was the perfect combination of witchy and determined. She kept pace, settled into her high cruising stride and just waited for the time that she really would pounce on CQ.
Thunderous hoofbeats sounded behind the pair, signaling that Reese had released Bella Luna. They did not glance back, just accepted the fact that at some point in this mile and a half journey and before the three furlong flat they would be accompanied by the Turf Triple Crown winner.
Reese wrapped her fingers in the flying dark mane that snapped in the ferocious wind. Bella Luna ran with her head high, her lightly dappled body gleaming in the sunlight. She looked beautiful as she ran, a prince's horse that carried him to battle. She was mystical and very real all at once. Reese ripped her goggles up to her eyes, sighed in relief when the burning tears stopped. Bella could sure as hell fly when she wanted to. At the third hill, the gray mare had made up half the field, for she'd started the length of a valley behind. The sight of her opponents before her, encouraged her to keep running, though thankfully at a steadier pace. Reese spoke to the mare, delighted in wild joy, but wanted to remain calm. Someone had to in this partnership.
Calamity Queen and Prima picked it up as they approached the final hillside with Bella Luna trailing them by ten lengths. She was making them up, less wildly than before. Reese still had her hands full, but based on the energy she felt waving off the mare, she had enough horse for the three furlong flat. Justin and Maggie leaned down on their horses, scooted their hands down the mare's neck in excited encouragement. Calamity Queen tackled the hill with aplomb, beating Prima once again to the crest. The dark bay mare was learning to settle down and Maggie thanked God for it. She would need the additional energy to hold off the win-deprived Bella Luna and the up-and-coming Prima.
Prima lengthened her rangy form to cover the first furlong with smooth class. She really galloped with such control and command, giving the impression that she really could go on forever if need-be. Calamity Queen battled ferociously to a three quarter length lead, pinning her ears with distinct violence. Prima's ears flickered for a moment, causing Justin to take notice of what was coming up from behind them. He glanced under his arm, dark eyes widening when he saw Bella Luna bearing down on them with a full head of speed. The Turf Triple Crown winner swept between Calamity Queen and Prima Donna, flew to a three length lead before he could blink.
Maggie and Justin set their fillies to a drive, encouraging them with voice, hands and feet. The bays flew after Bella Luna in hopeless pursuit. Not a moment later, the beautiful gray soared beneath the final marker, making herself the winner of the workout. Prima pulled second, blitzing away from Calamity Queen at the last possible mount to get it by a half-length. Calamity Queen bared her teeth, full of fury and irritation. Someday it would be her turn to shine. Perhaps her turn would be in the Queen Cup. Maggie could only hope.
toughen up
Ripley rolled her shoulders as she took a huge gulp of water. Running from the track to prep your mounts for the day really was a tiresome workout. Especially when Witch Creek property mostly consisted of hills. The barns were at the top in order to prevent flooding, down a slope would be the track and just beyond the track would be another slope for drainage. It was a masterpiece design that Ripley could not take credit for. It was all Mother Nature's, including the horses that called Witch Creek Stable home. The woman turned her green eyes to Mastermind, smiling at the bright look in the chestnut stallion's eyes. Mastermind, the king of sprints and miles, undefeated in three starts this season would face his toughest competition yet in the Wire Finish Cup Sprint. He'd get an odd workout over the turf today, for that was the surface his next race would be on.
No horse was in fitter shape than Mastermind, except for Saintly Touch, no other horse on the 20 strong racing roster was undefeated in Year Fourteen. It was a testament to the fierce competition of Green Horse Fields and The Wire. Ripley would give Mastermind a stiff workout today, prep him for his expected start. Come race day, it would be only them on the track, their partnership once again in the spotlight. Ripley looked forward to it. She slapped the horse's shoulder, smiling when just stood there. Her horse was the epitome of intelligence. He was strong, brilliant, beyond talented and possibly better than his Hall Of Fame sire at this point in his career. But there was an entire year left to go, leaving Ripley hopeful that their string of victories could continue onward.
Justin emerged from the tack room, strapping on his light helmet. He nodded at Ripley, dark brown eyes skimming from the head trainer to his mount for the workout set. Hokum, eighteen strapping hands of raw muscle and power, gazed back at him with arrogance and defiance. The Kore VS son was the only one with such height on the racecourse. He was magnificently speedy for all of his muscle and large physical proportions. He had a reputation for being rough on his competition even in defeat. He'd had a couple bad starts this season and then went rocketing to a win in the Spring Dawn Treader Cup. His start in the Cigar Mile was not a necessity to win. Hokum could bounce back and the goal after the Cigar Mile would be the Sheema Classic, a distance race that played right into Hokum's hooves. Justin did not bother showing a glimmer of affection toward Hokum, though he did feel a liking for this magnificent stallion. Hokum would not give Justin the time of day unless he was in the saddle.
With that thought, Justin vaulted onto Hokum's back, took up the leather reins and settled onto the horse's broad back. Hokum's ears pinned for a second before pricking back up. He switched his tail, shifted a lazy eye in Mastermind's direction. The chestnut stallion, arrogant as ever, looked away, flicking his ears, clearly not impressed. Ripley smiled as she mounted, happy that their would be no barn rivalries before the actual workout. Hokum lead the way out of the barn, muscling his way into the glimmering sunlight. He let out a whinny, drawing the attention of the broodmares and their foals. He tossed his head, dancing side to side, as much of a show off as ever. Justin sat the quick movement, pleased that Hokum had such fantastic energy.
Mastermind stepped quietly into the open, head lifted to draw in the scents of the yard. He licked his lips, eyes glowing with contentment. Ripley was more than happy to see her star horse enjoying his time at Witch Creek. A hard campaign awaited the Dubai World Sprint winner and he would need every bit of happiness and conditioning for later on. She patted the colt's elegant neck, turned him off the path and away from the dirt track. If he was surprised, he sure didn't give a sign. He picked up a fluid jog then a canter, his ears pricked in a display of relaxation. Hokum rumbled up to their side, great body stretching over the grass like a giant in a small doll house. Justin stood at the large horse's withers, eyes bright and focused on the hills ahead. "So what's the workout plan today?"
"We'll gallop the mile and a quarter, so start the gallop after the first hill. Work 'em the three furlong flat. It should be plenty fine for both of them." Ripley eased forward as Mastermind darted up the hill, head lifted so that his mane blew back like red fire. His muscles coiled at the top and excitement seemed to burn through his veins at the sight of the hills before him. The lean chestnut loped down the hillside, ears flickering when Hokum charged up to pressure his outside. Mastermind, dipped his head down, eyes darkening with challenge. The pair burst through the valley, taking the easy gallop speed to a cruising gallop. Mastermind backed down going up the next hill, but his snorting warned that the war was far from over. If Hokum wanted the lead, he could have it.
Hokum's hoofbeats vibrated the earth beneath him as he sped across the valleys and crests with practiced ease. He knew Mastermind was not as experienced over this kind of surface, knew that this was his domain. Justin was eager to pit his freight train against Mastermind, the extraordinarily tactical stalker. Mastermind would find out that Hokum was not cheap speed once they hit the three furlong flat. He glanced under his arm, two hills away from the flat and saw that Mastermind lurked three lengths behind. He looked poised and prepared to challenge and Justin wondered if the Speed Demon stallion actually had Hokum's measure already. A worry line appeared between his eyebrows, but he would pull the tricks out of his hat soon enough.
Ripley was awfully impressed with her horse as he took to the hills like a natural. Every hoof was placed in the correct spot, every stride was impressive and beautiful. He just floated over the ground, a professional in every sense of the word. Ripley leaned close as Mastermind maintained a confident pace across the final valley, trailing Hokum like a ghost. The heavy stallion ahead moved easily, ominously and Ripley knew they would have a fight on their hands today. Her green eyes flickered as they climbed the hill, now two lengths behind.
Both stallions paused at the crest, eyes glowing with triumph and satisfaction, until reality sailed in. Hokum pinned his ears, screamed a challenge, his hooves pounding the earth in fury. Mastermind responded, whirling slightly to the right to throw a kick that never connected. Neither stallion would let the other be King of This Hill. Hokum launched down the hillside, egged on by the maniacal kicks of Justin. No way would either stallion get hurt on his watch. Hokum barreled down the hillside, leaping the last foot to land with a thud on the flat. His great bay body trembled in fury, but he knew the way to settle this. It was to win the race.
In dashing to the side, Mastermind had cost them valuable time, but agile as a cat, the stallion righted himself and pursued the challenger. Fury had darken the stallion's gaze, his muscles were pumping with adrenaline. Ripley kept her hands silent as the lean horse dashed down the hillside, surged onto the flat with vengeance glittering in his eyes. His flame-colored body was lit by the sun as he soared after his opponent. His eyes were pinned, his mouth agape in absolute fury. Gone was the once intimidated two year old, gone was the polite three year old. In his place was a full-blooded animal prepared to deal the final blow, to end this once and for all.
In a matter of seconds, Hokum and Mastermind were locked in a mighty battle. They surged through the middle furlong, put on a great burst of speed as they neared the finish. The definition of domination was at stake for both stallions. Who was the tougher horse? Who was stronger, faster, more powerful, more capable of being the winner time and time again? Ripley and Justin were both sure the answer was their respective months. Mastermind was fleeter of foot, more agile, more brilliant. Hokum was more powerful, all strength with speed to boot. He battled with this other horse, this horse he'd worked with very little. Mastermind put his nose in front, only to be nosed out on the next stride by Hokum. Fed up, Mastermind pushed powerfully off of his haunches in the last yard, to nail down the victory by a half-length.
Ripley let out a victory yell, slapped her chestnut's neck as he bolted up the hillside, carrying himself with pride. A perfect workout for their fiercest race of the season. She turned the horse back, saw murder in Hokum's eyes, saw pure determination in Justin's, and knew that this workout would set both horses up for several races to come.
No horse was in fitter shape than Mastermind, except for Saintly Touch, no other horse on the 20 strong racing roster was undefeated in Year Fourteen. It was a testament to the fierce competition of Green Horse Fields and The Wire. Ripley would give Mastermind a stiff workout today, prep him for his expected start. Come race day, it would be only them on the track, their partnership once again in the spotlight. Ripley looked forward to it. She slapped the horse's shoulder, smiling when just stood there. Her horse was the epitome of intelligence. He was strong, brilliant, beyond talented and possibly better than his Hall Of Fame sire at this point in his career. But there was an entire year left to go, leaving Ripley hopeful that their string of victories could continue onward.
Justin emerged from the tack room, strapping on his light helmet. He nodded at Ripley, dark brown eyes skimming from the head trainer to his mount for the workout set. Hokum, eighteen strapping hands of raw muscle and power, gazed back at him with arrogance and defiance. The Kore VS son was the only one with such height on the racecourse. He was magnificently speedy for all of his muscle and large physical proportions. He had a reputation for being rough on his competition even in defeat. He'd had a couple bad starts this season and then went rocketing to a win in the Spring Dawn Treader Cup. His start in the Cigar Mile was not a necessity to win. Hokum could bounce back and the goal after the Cigar Mile would be the Sheema Classic, a distance race that played right into Hokum's hooves. Justin did not bother showing a glimmer of affection toward Hokum, though he did feel a liking for this magnificent stallion. Hokum would not give Justin the time of day unless he was in the saddle.
With that thought, Justin vaulted onto Hokum's back, took up the leather reins and settled onto the horse's broad back. Hokum's ears pinned for a second before pricking back up. He switched his tail, shifted a lazy eye in Mastermind's direction. The chestnut stallion, arrogant as ever, looked away, flicking his ears, clearly not impressed. Ripley smiled as she mounted, happy that their would be no barn rivalries before the actual workout. Hokum lead the way out of the barn, muscling his way into the glimmering sunlight. He let out a whinny, drawing the attention of the broodmares and their foals. He tossed his head, dancing side to side, as much of a show off as ever. Justin sat the quick movement, pleased that Hokum had such fantastic energy.
Mastermind stepped quietly into the open, head lifted to draw in the scents of the yard. He licked his lips, eyes glowing with contentment. Ripley was more than happy to see her star horse enjoying his time at Witch Creek. A hard campaign awaited the Dubai World Sprint winner and he would need every bit of happiness and conditioning for later on. She patted the colt's elegant neck, turned him off the path and away from the dirt track. If he was surprised, he sure didn't give a sign. He picked up a fluid jog then a canter, his ears pricked in a display of relaxation. Hokum rumbled up to their side, great body stretching over the grass like a giant in a small doll house. Justin stood at the large horse's withers, eyes bright and focused on the hills ahead. "So what's the workout plan today?"
"We'll gallop the mile and a quarter, so start the gallop after the first hill. Work 'em the three furlong flat. It should be plenty fine for both of them." Ripley eased forward as Mastermind darted up the hill, head lifted so that his mane blew back like red fire. His muscles coiled at the top and excitement seemed to burn through his veins at the sight of the hills before him. The lean chestnut loped down the hillside, ears flickering when Hokum charged up to pressure his outside. Mastermind, dipped his head down, eyes darkening with challenge. The pair burst through the valley, taking the easy gallop speed to a cruising gallop. Mastermind backed down going up the next hill, but his snorting warned that the war was far from over. If Hokum wanted the lead, he could have it.
Hokum's hoofbeats vibrated the earth beneath him as he sped across the valleys and crests with practiced ease. He knew Mastermind was not as experienced over this kind of surface, knew that this was his domain. Justin was eager to pit his freight train against Mastermind, the extraordinarily tactical stalker. Mastermind would find out that Hokum was not cheap speed once they hit the three furlong flat. He glanced under his arm, two hills away from the flat and saw that Mastermind lurked three lengths behind. He looked poised and prepared to challenge and Justin wondered if the Speed Demon stallion actually had Hokum's measure already. A worry line appeared between his eyebrows, but he would pull the tricks out of his hat soon enough.
Ripley was awfully impressed with her horse as he took to the hills like a natural. Every hoof was placed in the correct spot, every stride was impressive and beautiful. He just floated over the ground, a professional in every sense of the word. Ripley leaned close as Mastermind maintained a confident pace across the final valley, trailing Hokum like a ghost. The heavy stallion ahead moved easily, ominously and Ripley knew they would have a fight on their hands today. Her green eyes flickered as they climbed the hill, now two lengths behind.
Both stallions paused at the crest, eyes glowing with triumph and satisfaction, until reality sailed in. Hokum pinned his ears, screamed a challenge, his hooves pounding the earth in fury. Mastermind responded, whirling slightly to the right to throw a kick that never connected. Neither stallion would let the other be King of This Hill. Hokum launched down the hillside, egged on by the maniacal kicks of Justin. No way would either stallion get hurt on his watch. Hokum barreled down the hillside, leaping the last foot to land with a thud on the flat. His great bay body trembled in fury, but he knew the way to settle this. It was to win the race.
In dashing to the side, Mastermind had cost them valuable time, but agile as a cat, the stallion righted himself and pursued the challenger. Fury had darken the stallion's gaze, his muscles were pumping with adrenaline. Ripley kept her hands silent as the lean horse dashed down the hillside, surged onto the flat with vengeance glittering in his eyes. His flame-colored body was lit by the sun as he soared after his opponent. His eyes were pinned, his mouth agape in absolute fury. Gone was the once intimidated two year old, gone was the polite three year old. In his place was a full-blooded animal prepared to deal the final blow, to end this once and for all.
In a matter of seconds, Hokum and Mastermind were locked in a mighty battle. They surged through the middle furlong, put on a great burst of speed as they neared the finish. The definition of domination was at stake for both stallions. Who was the tougher horse? Who was stronger, faster, more powerful, more capable of being the winner time and time again? Ripley and Justin were both sure the answer was their respective months. Mastermind was fleeter of foot, more agile, more brilliant. Hokum was more powerful, all strength with speed to boot. He battled with this other horse, this horse he'd worked with very little. Mastermind put his nose in front, only to be nosed out on the next stride by Hokum. Fed up, Mastermind pushed powerfully off of his haunches in the last yard, to nail down the victory by a half-length.
Ripley let out a victory yell, slapped her chestnut's neck as he bolted up the hillside, carrying himself with pride. A perfect workout for their fiercest race of the season. She turned the horse back, saw murder in Hokum's eyes, saw pure determination in Justin's, and knew that this workout would set both horses up for several races to come.
never surrender
"This should be a pretty interesting workout," Ripley said as she eyed her clipboard. The lean woman leaned against the doorjamb, maintaining the picture of consummate confidence and leadership. Laura's blue eyes flickered away from Ripley, filling with thought. If there was one person who Laura respected at this filly facility it was Ripley Marsh. "We've got three speed horses in one workout. One with proven sprint speed, one who runs like a maniac and one with more guts than he has a right to." The woman hummed for a moment, lifting her gaze to watch Casualty of War half-rear into the air. The black son of Man O' War looked absolutely breath taking, his black hide gleaming like polished diamond. He was the horse with enough courage for ten horses. Casualty of War was the toughest son of a gun Ripley had met at the track. Since his brief vacation, he had been nothing, but trouble. Ripley knew Malcolm would be plenty excited to see the colt go.
Reese hummed as she worked, running a gentle cloth across Spotlight Pride's ruby hide. The Deathflash's Pride colt looked absolutely stunning. He was lean, athletic, his ribs just slightly visible. He was the most raced two year old and you would never know from the sight of him. He was a rarity: a horse who could run blazingly fast and carrying it beyond the classic distance of 10 furlongs. He was different than Sultan. He was a machine, one with a terrific stride, who could outrun any front runner determined to run head to head with him. Ripley was positive that the only horse who could beat Pride was Cross My Heart.
Wishing For A Heroine watched the amped up colts with interested eyes. Her body twitched with excitement, her ears flicked anxiously over her refined chocolate head. Laura was beyond excited to gain a three year old mount. She would finally get to participate in the three year old races. She'd looked forward to the moment, hadn't expected the opportunity until Nirvana reached three. Now Heroine had fallen into her lap. The Everyday Hero filly leaned into the pressure of Laura's hand that rested on her sleek neck. Heroine was looking for her first major win. She would finally hit the turf versus a bunch of fillies that were hoping to go longer than eight furlongs in the Turf Triple Tiara. Eight furlongs was right up Heroine's alleyway. She would get first flight on her distance competition and give them more than a little challenge now that'd she gotten a couple months of workouts and races under her belt. Laura was about to give the three year old turf filly division hell. She had something to prove. And so did Heroine.
Reese patted Pride's neck before swinging aboard the lean horse. He trembled beneath her, nostrils distending in excitement. His breathing became instantly heavier, and like a typical hothead he began to dance. His shoes rang on the concrete, the beat revving up Sultan. Ripley snagged the black colt's bridle, swiftly leading him out of the barn, while Justin leaped for the moving target. She smiled up at the kid, gave the thumbs up when he was connected. Sultan pulsed beneath Justin, noises rumbling in his throat ominously. Ripley released the reins as soon as she stepped outside, stepped away to where DW Flamekissed awaited. The bay stallion eyed the muscular black colt with wary eyes, nickered to Ripley when she climbed into the saddle.
Sultan pranced in place, shaking with fury at the sight of DW Flamekissed. Any stallion or colt was the enemy of Sultan. Any filly for that matter too. He let out a challenging bugle as Heroine, rangy beauty that she was, stepped from the barn. She pinned her ears, skittering away from the commanding horse. Pride, more timid, practically leaped out of his beautiful skin when Sultan clacked his teeth in his direction. Reese sat the antsy horse's fiery movements, crooned to him. She knew exactly where Pride was going to be in the workout: long gone and very far away from Sultan. She patted the colt's neck. It would be fine. Pride could run like the wind.
Ripley led the way down to the dirt track, mindful of the furious hooves that beat behind her. Sturdy as a rock, Flamekissed plodded on, though his ears remained pinned in warning. She let the horse picked up into an irritating jog the moment he stepped hoof on the dirt, she stopped him, waited for her charges. Heroine crow-hopped, but found that her human remained firmly attached. Heroine was not nearly as tough on a body as Dirty Diana. Laura moved with the chocolate brown filly, grinned when she managed to get her to stop. The sleek horse turned on her hooves to face Ripley as if that had been the plan all along.
"Alright. Now that we're all accounted for... I want a mile and a sixteenth gallop. So start at the top of the backstretch and you'll end in the middle of the backstretch once you've gone around. After take them a four furlong blowout. Don't force them to keep up with one another because they have different speeds. It'll just tire them out."
The riders nodded, turned their horses and immediately sent them into a hand gallop. Pride bolted away, tail waving over his rump in excitement and overeagerness. Reese remained poised in the saddle even as the colt revved himself up. She'd long since grown used to this kind of display. She leaned close, murmuring to him as he charged off. Wind bit her skin as the colt flew towards the first turn. Reese could tell that Pride was running more out of joy than fear of the black nightmare that ran behind him. All for the better. Pride was beginning to learn to shrug off the enemies.
Wishing For A Heroine moved gracefully at the rail as Spotlight Pride moved to the clear leadership by about five lengths. The lean filly was not the type to outrun her own feet. She ran to her comfort level. Her ears played over her head as Sultan swooped up to their outside. His big black frame looked gigantic when compared to Heroine's. Yet she did not come off as intimidated. She pinned her ears at the black horse, her eyes flashed, but she did not break stride. Her lean body maintained a solid pace even when the colt drifted in to force her down to the rail. She skipped over the dirt, mane and tail flying out behind her as she galloped. Laura kept her hands light on the reins, impressed by the filly's natural talent and speed. She was smarter than she looked.
Justin felt like he was sitting on a bomb about to go off. Casualty of War had not been able to keep up with Pride, so therefore was turning his brutal focus onto the filly. Only she wasn't giving in and it was starting to aggravate him. The colt's heavy ears were locked back to his neck as the pair of them swept together into the far turn. He was relentless, merciless, but this little filly would just not stop irritating him. He began to snort, bowing his neck and puffing his chest, the wild horse that he was coming out. Heroine snaked her head out at him, cut the turn and shook him loose. Justin felt the reins rip through his fingers as Sultan immediately roared to life. No way was that FILLY getting him.
Laura's eyes widened when Casualty of War stormed by Heroine like she'd been standing still. The filly's ears pricked right up, watching the colt blast by her to pursue Spotlight Pride. Even from here, Laura could see the chestnut horse stiffen as the black horse loomed up to his outside on the first turn again. Laura niggled the reins, bounced a little in the saddle, sent her chocolate three year old horse after the colts. The workout was about to become a match race. Heroine needed some excitement in her life.
Reese's first reaction when Casualty of War rocketed up to them was to take up on Spotlight Pride immediately. The black dragon looked full of himself, full of loathing and she wondered if it had something to do with Heroine's affable nature. She crooned to Pride, watched the fear dim down in his gaze. He'd temporarily sped up, intimidated now that he was pinned to the rail. Justin's black beast was picking on the right target unfortunately. Pride snorted nervously with every stride, threatened to back out of it completely. Reese nudged him onward, talking to him, losing all of her hearing except for any sound the chestnut colt made. She was not about to let Pride go down without even making some noise.
Casualty of War snatched the lead away from Spotlight Pride when they kicked on for the four furlong blitz. He was not going to share the lead. He wanted to dominate it. Justin was impressed by the colt's warlord nature. He was calculating and tactical when he had every right to be ruled by instinct. Justin kept his involvement to a minimum. There was no way his moving was going to egg this horse on. So he remained silent, even when he knew Reese had purposely backed Pride off of the rail. Sultan swallowed that position greedily and maintained a bull-headed lead while firmly planted in the middle of two paths.
Laura jerked Heroine rapidly to the outside when Reese pulled Pride out of the spot and whipped him to the outside. Heroine's hind legs skittered as she attempted to stop and go at the same time. She ran for a moment with her front and hind legs going in opposite directions before managing to right herself. Full of irritation and a full head of steam, Heroine flew up to run head to head with Spotlight Pride. The chestnut's eyes were wild as he set his sights on Sultan. Laura knew that this was the colt to get behind because he never ran out of juice. Heroine would make the perfect wingwoman.
Justin glanced under his right arm to see that Pride and Heroine were hooking up on the turn. The lean horses ran as one, their goal the same: to catch Casualty of War. He remained quiet as Sultan cruised over the course, maintaining a brilliantly fast pace all on his own. Justin leaned close, heard the change in the wind that warned him of Pride and Heroine's joint approach. Sultan pinned his ears, thundered to the wire. Two hundred yards out and Justin knew they were in trouble.
A warcry behind them had his adrenaline pumping, had Sultan gearing down for more, but it was too late. Spotlight Pride surged by at the last moment to win by a half-length with Heroine tucked neatly at his barrel. She'd dead-heated with Sultan, but had not been able to surpass Pride's ferocious speed. She glided by the chestnut colt on the gallop out, full of excitement and pride. Laura patted the filly's wet neck, smiled at Reese who looked extremely pleased. Sultan stomped as he was pulled to a halt, hooves dancing in the dirt in fury. He was not going to be taken down next time out. Next time he would do his best to take it to the wire. Next time he would be prepared for anything they threw at him.
Reese hummed as she worked, running a gentle cloth across Spotlight Pride's ruby hide. The Deathflash's Pride colt looked absolutely stunning. He was lean, athletic, his ribs just slightly visible. He was the most raced two year old and you would never know from the sight of him. He was a rarity: a horse who could run blazingly fast and carrying it beyond the classic distance of 10 furlongs. He was different than Sultan. He was a machine, one with a terrific stride, who could outrun any front runner determined to run head to head with him. Ripley was positive that the only horse who could beat Pride was Cross My Heart.
Wishing For A Heroine watched the amped up colts with interested eyes. Her body twitched with excitement, her ears flicked anxiously over her refined chocolate head. Laura was beyond excited to gain a three year old mount. She would finally get to participate in the three year old races. She'd looked forward to the moment, hadn't expected the opportunity until Nirvana reached three. Now Heroine had fallen into her lap. The Everyday Hero filly leaned into the pressure of Laura's hand that rested on her sleek neck. Heroine was looking for her first major win. She would finally hit the turf versus a bunch of fillies that were hoping to go longer than eight furlongs in the Turf Triple Tiara. Eight furlongs was right up Heroine's alleyway. She would get first flight on her distance competition and give them more than a little challenge now that'd she gotten a couple months of workouts and races under her belt. Laura was about to give the three year old turf filly division hell. She had something to prove. And so did Heroine.
Reese patted Pride's neck before swinging aboard the lean horse. He trembled beneath her, nostrils distending in excitement. His breathing became instantly heavier, and like a typical hothead he began to dance. His shoes rang on the concrete, the beat revving up Sultan. Ripley snagged the black colt's bridle, swiftly leading him out of the barn, while Justin leaped for the moving target. She smiled up at the kid, gave the thumbs up when he was connected. Sultan pulsed beneath Justin, noises rumbling in his throat ominously. Ripley released the reins as soon as she stepped outside, stepped away to where DW Flamekissed awaited. The bay stallion eyed the muscular black colt with wary eyes, nickered to Ripley when she climbed into the saddle.
Sultan pranced in place, shaking with fury at the sight of DW Flamekissed. Any stallion or colt was the enemy of Sultan. Any filly for that matter too. He let out a challenging bugle as Heroine, rangy beauty that she was, stepped from the barn. She pinned her ears, skittering away from the commanding horse. Pride, more timid, practically leaped out of his beautiful skin when Sultan clacked his teeth in his direction. Reese sat the antsy horse's fiery movements, crooned to him. She knew exactly where Pride was going to be in the workout: long gone and very far away from Sultan. She patted the colt's neck. It would be fine. Pride could run like the wind.
Ripley led the way down to the dirt track, mindful of the furious hooves that beat behind her. Sturdy as a rock, Flamekissed plodded on, though his ears remained pinned in warning. She let the horse picked up into an irritating jog the moment he stepped hoof on the dirt, she stopped him, waited for her charges. Heroine crow-hopped, but found that her human remained firmly attached. Heroine was not nearly as tough on a body as Dirty Diana. Laura moved with the chocolate brown filly, grinned when she managed to get her to stop. The sleek horse turned on her hooves to face Ripley as if that had been the plan all along.
"Alright. Now that we're all accounted for... I want a mile and a sixteenth gallop. So start at the top of the backstretch and you'll end in the middle of the backstretch once you've gone around. After take them a four furlong blowout. Don't force them to keep up with one another because they have different speeds. It'll just tire them out."
The riders nodded, turned their horses and immediately sent them into a hand gallop. Pride bolted away, tail waving over his rump in excitement and overeagerness. Reese remained poised in the saddle even as the colt revved himself up. She'd long since grown used to this kind of display. She leaned close, murmuring to him as he charged off. Wind bit her skin as the colt flew towards the first turn. Reese could tell that Pride was running more out of joy than fear of the black nightmare that ran behind him. All for the better. Pride was beginning to learn to shrug off the enemies.
Wishing For A Heroine moved gracefully at the rail as Spotlight Pride moved to the clear leadership by about five lengths. The lean filly was not the type to outrun her own feet. She ran to her comfort level. Her ears played over her head as Sultan swooped up to their outside. His big black frame looked gigantic when compared to Heroine's. Yet she did not come off as intimidated. She pinned her ears at the black horse, her eyes flashed, but she did not break stride. Her lean body maintained a solid pace even when the colt drifted in to force her down to the rail. She skipped over the dirt, mane and tail flying out behind her as she galloped. Laura kept her hands light on the reins, impressed by the filly's natural talent and speed. She was smarter than she looked.
Justin felt like he was sitting on a bomb about to go off. Casualty of War had not been able to keep up with Pride, so therefore was turning his brutal focus onto the filly. Only she wasn't giving in and it was starting to aggravate him. The colt's heavy ears were locked back to his neck as the pair of them swept together into the far turn. He was relentless, merciless, but this little filly would just not stop irritating him. He began to snort, bowing his neck and puffing his chest, the wild horse that he was coming out. Heroine snaked her head out at him, cut the turn and shook him loose. Justin felt the reins rip through his fingers as Sultan immediately roared to life. No way was that FILLY getting him.
Laura's eyes widened when Casualty of War stormed by Heroine like she'd been standing still. The filly's ears pricked right up, watching the colt blast by her to pursue Spotlight Pride. Even from here, Laura could see the chestnut horse stiffen as the black horse loomed up to his outside on the first turn again. Laura niggled the reins, bounced a little in the saddle, sent her chocolate three year old horse after the colts. The workout was about to become a match race. Heroine needed some excitement in her life.
Reese's first reaction when Casualty of War rocketed up to them was to take up on Spotlight Pride immediately. The black dragon looked full of himself, full of loathing and she wondered if it had something to do with Heroine's affable nature. She crooned to Pride, watched the fear dim down in his gaze. He'd temporarily sped up, intimidated now that he was pinned to the rail. Justin's black beast was picking on the right target unfortunately. Pride snorted nervously with every stride, threatened to back out of it completely. Reese nudged him onward, talking to him, losing all of her hearing except for any sound the chestnut colt made. She was not about to let Pride go down without even making some noise.
Casualty of War snatched the lead away from Spotlight Pride when they kicked on for the four furlong blitz. He was not going to share the lead. He wanted to dominate it. Justin was impressed by the colt's warlord nature. He was calculating and tactical when he had every right to be ruled by instinct. Justin kept his involvement to a minimum. There was no way his moving was going to egg this horse on. So he remained silent, even when he knew Reese had purposely backed Pride off of the rail. Sultan swallowed that position greedily and maintained a bull-headed lead while firmly planted in the middle of two paths.
Laura jerked Heroine rapidly to the outside when Reese pulled Pride out of the spot and whipped him to the outside. Heroine's hind legs skittered as she attempted to stop and go at the same time. She ran for a moment with her front and hind legs going in opposite directions before managing to right herself. Full of irritation and a full head of steam, Heroine flew up to run head to head with Spotlight Pride. The chestnut's eyes were wild as he set his sights on Sultan. Laura knew that this was the colt to get behind because he never ran out of juice. Heroine would make the perfect wingwoman.
Justin glanced under his right arm to see that Pride and Heroine were hooking up on the turn. The lean horses ran as one, their goal the same: to catch Casualty of War. He remained quiet as Sultan cruised over the course, maintaining a brilliantly fast pace all on his own. Justin leaned close, heard the change in the wind that warned him of Pride and Heroine's joint approach. Sultan pinned his ears, thundered to the wire. Two hundred yards out and Justin knew they were in trouble.
A warcry behind them had his adrenaline pumping, had Sultan gearing down for more, but it was too late. Spotlight Pride surged by at the last moment to win by a half-length with Heroine tucked neatly at his barrel. She'd dead-heated with Sultan, but had not been able to surpass Pride's ferocious speed. She glided by the chestnut colt on the gallop out, full of excitement and pride. Laura patted the filly's wet neck, smiled at Reese who looked extremely pleased. Sultan stomped as he was pulled to a halt, hooves dancing in the dirt in fury. He was not going to be taken down next time out. Next time he would do his best to take it to the wire. Next time he would be prepared for anything they threw at him.