May Week Two
master your temptations
Ripley was leaning against Mastermind's leg inside his stall when Brookson Wells found her. Warm, deep shavings swallowed her feet, her eye were shut and for once, the champion trainer was quiet. She looked peaceful beyond words, but she had to wake up and do something. It'd been a long week with horses moving in and out for races and sales. Three horses had come in from the Intrepid Sale and while Ripley wasn't directly involved with that youngstock, she'd pitched right in.
"Ripley Marsh, you've got to wake up sometime." He would have opened the door if Mastermind didn't have such an irritable look on his face. The chestnut stallion gleamed to perfection, dapples spreading over his rump, his summer coat shining with good health. Mastermind had performed at the top level in every single one of his starts. He was perhaps the best older stallion of Year Fourteen and he definitely looked the part. Each performance had been thoroughly dominating and it was that pure unedited dominance that had encouraged Ripley to think Summer Dawn Treader Cup.
"I'm not even asleep Wells," came the unusually soft voice. "Just relaxing with a horse of a lifetime." Brooks smiled a slightly sad smile. It was true that Ripley considered Mastermind to be her greatest runner of all time, better than El Sol del Mar even, the rockstar dam of Mastermind. El Sol del Mar was in the Hall of Fame, but it meant something larger than Brooks imagination to know that Ripley considered Mastermind to be even greater. "Well horses of a lifetime need to workout too." Ripley smirked, opened her bright green eyes and aimed them in his direction. "Just one more workout, one more race closer to retirement. I'm savoring every second."
Brooks backed up as Ripley stood, grabbed Mastermind's reins and led him from the stall. Covered in shavings, horse manure and hair, no one would ever guess that this was a woman of such esteemed fame. No one was more real than THE Ripley Marsh. She patted the neck of her favored horse, blinking back tears. She was going to miss him, but until he was gone, she was going to make him a champion and one the whole world would remember.
Brooks cupped his hands, nodding as Ripley jumped from his palms to the back of her stallion. Mastermind ducked his head, bowed his neck and briefly pranced sideways, full of himself and ready to rock and roll. Ripley settled into the saddle, calmed her roiling insides and let the chestnut horse step out of the barn. A line of people waited alongside the fence, bored employees wanting to thrill at the sight of a champ. Ripley would have shaken her head at such non-sense, but she would be watching Mastermind to if she wasn't riding him.
Brooks stepped aside, analyzing every swaggering stride of the Speed Demon stud. He looked every inch the monstrous mount, every inch the horse to beat going into the Summer Dawn Treader Cup. It wasn't being cocky. It wasn't being arrogant to say such a thing. There were no two time Breeders' Cup winners in the field other than Mastermind. There were no horses capable of running with his supreme tactical speed and honed talent. When Mastermind ran, he had a target on his back. The horse, except for one turf start this year, simply had been unbeatable over the dirt. And he was going to be at home at The Wire to say the least. Brooks shook his head as the elegant horse marched onto the track. He would be going to the Summer Dawn Treader Cup as the assistant trainer, but he would be coming out of it a fan of this great horse and the horses he ran against.
Power radiated from Mastermind as he kicked into a strong gallop. Each muscle moved under hide the color of flame, contracting and releasing with each purposeful stride. Ripley sat as quiet as she pleased on his back, not getting in the horse's way. He knew his duty. While he was on the muscle, there could be no denying she had full control of the horse if she chose. Their partnership had been one of the best she'd ever experienced. Admiration for Mastermind filled Ripley's body with warmth as he danced into the first turn.
His body leveled out over the dirt, kicking up clumps and leaving them in his wake. He was soaring over the ground, ears pricked all the while and communicating his focus. He moved handily off the rail when Ripley directed him to, moved back to it just the same. He was a great horse. While he had not run against long distance runners in sometime, those long-distance runners had been beating up on each other with no particular horse outshining the rest. Mastermind had been the stand-out and those same long-distance runners had never faced off against him. Ripley sat quiet as the elegant horse galloped through the backstretch and into the far turn. He was just mocking the strip here, taking it all in stride with a flick of his hide.
He crossed the wire the first time through, pulling heartily on the bit, demanding more rein. Ripley snagged him at the mouth, eyes flashing at his defiance. Mastermind was on the muscle, but he could be polite or he wouldn't run at all. Briefly at odds, Mastermind tore into the backstretch, tail streaking out behind him. Ripley let out a sigh, gave one hard yank and dislodged the bit from the Speed Demon stud's mouth. He went rank before settling into his great stride, hunkering down to get on with business.
The atmosphere rumbled with the intensity that Mastermind ran with as he surged into the homestretch. Ripley's eyes widened at the sight of the curtain of rain. She'd been oblivious that they had been chased, closed her eyes briefly as thunder rumbled over head. The stallion braved it, shouldering into the curtain and bearing the brunt of the waterfall on his back and on Ripley's. The rider and horse, locked in the rawness of Mother Nature, swept through the wire as their fans abandoned them and took shelter. Neither equine nor human took note as they finished off the exercise in a powerful gallop. A warning had been served.
"Ripley Marsh, you've got to wake up sometime." He would have opened the door if Mastermind didn't have such an irritable look on his face. The chestnut stallion gleamed to perfection, dapples spreading over his rump, his summer coat shining with good health. Mastermind had performed at the top level in every single one of his starts. He was perhaps the best older stallion of Year Fourteen and he definitely looked the part. Each performance had been thoroughly dominating and it was that pure unedited dominance that had encouraged Ripley to think Summer Dawn Treader Cup.
"I'm not even asleep Wells," came the unusually soft voice. "Just relaxing with a horse of a lifetime." Brooks smiled a slightly sad smile. It was true that Ripley considered Mastermind to be her greatest runner of all time, better than El Sol del Mar even, the rockstar dam of Mastermind. El Sol del Mar was in the Hall of Fame, but it meant something larger than Brooks imagination to know that Ripley considered Mastermind to be even greater. "Well horses of a lifetime need to workout too." Ripley smirked, opened her bright green eyes and aimed them in his direction. "Just one more workout, one more race closer to retirement. I'm savoring every second."
Brooks backed up as Ripley stood, grabbed Mastermind's reins and led him from the stall. Covered in shavings, horse manure and hair, no one would ever guess that this was a woman of such esteemed fame. No one was more real than THE Ripley Marsh. She patted the neck of her favored horse, blinking back tears. She was going to miss him, but until he was gone, she was going to make him a champion and one the whole world would remember.
Brooks cupped his hands, nodding as Ripley jumped from his palms to the back of her stallion. Mastermind ducked his head, bowed his neck and briefly pranced sideways, full of himself and ready to rock and roll. Ripley settled into the saddle, calmed her roiling insides and let the chestnut horse step out of the barn. A line of people waited alongside the fence, bored employees wanting to thrill at the sight of a champ. Ripley would have shaken her head at such non-sense, but she would be watching Mastermind to if she wasn't riding him.
Brooks stepped aside, analyzing every swaggering stride of the Speed Demon stud. He looked every inch the monstrous mount, every inch the horse to beat going into the Summer Dawn Treader Cup. It wasn't being cocky. It wasn't being arrogant to say such a thing. There were no two time Breeders' Cup winners in the field other than Mastermind. There were no horses capable of running with his supreme tactical speed and honed talent. When Mastermind ran, he had a target on his back. The horse, except for one turf start this year, simply had been unbeatable over the dirt. And he was going to be at home at The Wire to say the least. Brooks shook his head as the elegant horse marched onto the track. He would be going to the Summer Dawn Treader Cup as the assistant trainer, but he would be coming out of it a fan of this great horse and the horses he ran against.
Power radiated from Mastermind as he kicked into a strong gallop. Each muscle moved under hide the color of flame, contracting and releasing with each purposeful stride. Ripley sat as quiet as she pleased on his back, not getting in the horse's way. He knew his duty. While he was on the muscle, there could be no denying she had full control of the horse if she chose. Their partnership had been one of the best she'd ever experienced. Admiration for Mastermind filled Ripley's body with warmth as he danced into the first turn.
His body leveled out over the dirt, kicking up clumps and leaving them in his wake. He was soaring over the ground, ears pricked all the while and communicating his focus. He moved handily off the rail when Ripley directed him to, moved back to it just the same. He was a great horse. While he had not run against long distance runners in sometime, those long-distance runners had been beating up on each other with no particular horse outshining the rest. Mastermind had been the stand-out and those same long-distance runners had never faced off against him. Ripley sat quiet as the elegant horse galloped through the backstretch and into the far turn. He was just mocking the strip here, taking it all in stride with a flick of his hide.
He crossed the wire the first time through, pulling heartily on the bit, demanding more rein. Ripley snagged him at the mouth, eyes flashing at his defiance. Mastermind was on the muscle, but he could be polite or he wouldn't run at all. Briefly at odds, Mastermind tore into the backstretch, tail streaking out behind him. Ripley let out a sigh, gave one hard yank and dislodged the bit from the Speed Demon stud's mouth. He went rank before settling into his great stride, hunkering down to get on with business.
The atmosphere rumbled with the intensity that Mastermind ran with as he surged into the homestretch. Ripley's eyes widened at the sight of the curtain of rain. She'd been oblivious that they had been chased, closed her eyes briefly as thunder rumbled over head. The stallion braved it, shouldering into the curtain and bearing the brunt of the waterfall on his back and on Ripley's. The rider and horse, locked in the rawness of Mother Nature, swept through the wire as their fans abandoned them and took shelter. Neither equine nor human took note as they finished off the exercise in a powerful gallop. A warning had been served.
play dirty
It was going to be one of those rare times that Ripley sent out three horses in a head-to-head grudge match over the dirt track. She wasn't riding in the workout, but her three female counterparts would be. The auburn-haired miss smiled delightfully when Dirty Diana lurched sideways beneath Laura DeComte. The mare had lightened in coloring over the season, dappling out slightly, but she had lost none of her hard-to-handle attitude. Mouth agape, the All For Glory mare lunged into an uncomfortable canter movement. Laura stood in the saddle, riding out the crow-hops, the bucking, the rearing. Diana was never boring. Laura cursed her almost as much as she praised her. The four year old mare was dead fit, however, because of her inability to just hang out and relax. Her two month layoff had been broken up into a long series of rolling gallops and mile long workouts. Di was dead fit and ready to roll. Just in time for the summer racing season and beyond.
Reese mashed her lips together, trying not to show her amusement at the plight of the youngest jockey. Supernatural stood, hip cocked, head low in an easy position. She was comfortable here at Witch Creek. She was surprisingly relaxed and fit after her trip over the mile and a quarter in the Kentucky Derby. She'd finished fourth against the boys while her stablemate In Front had finished second behind Mourning Passion. Neither horse would be in the Preakness Stakes and with third place finisher Limited Edition in, Reese had begged Ripley for a second chance before she sent Siri packing for the filly races. The Dylan Himself filly couldn't have been doing any better. Each gallop since the Derby had been stronger than the previous one, but that was more of a product of an equipment change. The near white filly now raced in a pair of blinkers. She simply could not toil back for as long as she usually did. Someone had to make a move and Reese wanted it to be her proud filly, not a rival colt.
Maggie just wanted a top place effort from her hard-trying beautiful filly. Wishing For A Heroine stretched low like a cat, bowing in preparation for the workout. She was a lovely little filly, elegant and classy. Maggie adored the three year old filly, expected that if she did not place well in the Mother Goose that she would have to be dropped in class. That's what happened usually, but it didn't make the Everyday Hero daughter less. It just meant that her time in the sun would come later. Maggie nudged the mare into a gentle jog over the loamy sand course. Her ears pinned briefly when Diana made a threatening face. The All For Glory mare had never been the friendliest to her counterparts. Maggie patted Heroine's silky neck, smiled at Ripley. "We're ready when you are."
Ripley yawned, rolled her shoulders. It had been a while since her solo work aboard Mastermind this morning. The track had been dampened considerably and would definitely boost all three fillies up. None of them were particularly delicate and all of them loved to have a little fun. Her green eyes skimmed over the mare and fillies. "Just a three furlong workout today. Nothing too harsh. All of them are coming off solid runs, so a lung opener is just what they need to be at their best in their next-out races."
Supernatural broke out of the trio first, bolting into a ground-swallowing gallop. Reese took big breaths, smiling when the lean gray settled down, head cocked slightly to the right. She was a menace this filly, tough and hard to beat. She was a runner, pure and simple, one that was just as tough as the colt next in line. Reese kept her hands at the filly's withers, easing up on the reins and letting the horse do her thing. She was a three year old horse with the habit of bit grabbing. Luckily, she had some brains to boot and she settled in just in time to see Wishing For A Heroine sweeping by.
Heroine was bloody fast and although she was not the most easily controlled horse on the property, she could rate. Heroine's sleek body danced fluidly over the muddy surface, spattering mud all over her dark belly. She enjoyed herself immensely, eased up on the bit when Maggie jerked it. Little filly could run. Maggie patted the horse's neck, murmured soothing words to her. There was no reason to tear up the course when the likes of Dirty Diana and Supernatural stalked you.
And Dirty Diana had become such a pro at stalking. The roan-gray mare loped casually at the back of the three, awaiting the cue to step into a full on sprint. She was wise enough to know that the real running began in the stretch. This was simple stuff, following these two babies around and stealing the victory. Laura kept her body still as stone while Dirty Diana cruised over the wet course. She was a special mare and growing more so every single day she worked. She was so close to becoming a grade two horse and then after grade two the sky was the limit. Laura could not wait for the journey to continue. She loved these complicated mares and their willful attitudes.
Maggie knew that the only hope Heroine had of staving off the closers was to outfoot them in the turn and keep on chugging. Her little bay horse was getting over the ground great, cruising more effortlessly than before. Her blue eyes sparkled when Heroine switched leads as pretty as she pleased in the turn. She switched gears and surged off of the turn with more zeal than usual. Heroine was flying and throwing down the gauntlet.
Siri bounded after the front-runner with great, leaping strides. She wasn't as much of a fan as the mud, but her determination to crush Heroine urged her onward. Her ears pinned when Dirty Diana bounded up on machine-like strides. Together the grays closed ground on the plucky bay filly, riders at a standstill on their broadbacks. Diana did not get the advantage over Supernatural like she had over the likes of Van Guard. Siri was a good filly, a classic filly. She was a little like still-water in the racing ranks this year, but she was brilliant on her best day. Today was one of those best days.
Heroine still flaunted it on the lead, ears pricked over her slim head. Maggie smiled as the Everyday Hero filly cruised down the stretch. Heroine was a mudder, a great mudder at that. Maggie peeked under her arm looking for Diana and Siri, noted exuberantly that neither mare nor filly was making up ground. With ears pricked, Heroine galloped through the wire and pulled away again in the first turn. This was only the beginning for her.
Diana and Siri battled viciously together with powerful strides, bouncing off of each others' shoulders with dogged-determination. They had failed to catch the sure-footed bay, but neither was going to wave a flag of surrender. They galloped, hooked up as they were, beneath the wire, emboldened with fire and rage. A fast track would await them in the Summer Cup and Preakness Stakes, respectively, and hopefully glory awaited them as well.
Reese mashed her lips together, trying not to show her amusement at the plight of the youngest jockey. Supernatural stood, hip cocked, head low in an easy position. She was comfortable here at Witch Creek. She was surprisingly relaxed and fit after her trip over the mile and a quarter in the Kentucky Derby. She'd finished fourth against the boys while her stablemate In Front had finished second behind Mourning Passion. Neither horse would be in the Preakness Stakes and with third place finisher Limited Edition in, Reese had begged Ripley for a second chance before she sent Siri packing for the filly races. The Dylan Himself filly couldn't have been doing any better. Each gallop since the Derby had been stronger than the previous one, but that was more of a product of an equipment change. The near white filly now raced in a pair of blinkers. She simply could not toil back for as long as she usually did. Someone had to make a move and Reese wanted it to be her proud filly, not a rival colt.
Maggie just wanted a top place effort from her hard-trying beautiful filly. Wishing For A Heroine stretched low like a cat, bowing in preparation for the workout. She was a lovely little filly, elegant and classy. Maggie adored the three year old filly, expected that if she did not place well in the Mother Goose that she would have to be dropped in class. That's what happened usually, but it didn't make the Everyday Hero daughter less. It just meant that her time in the sun would come later. Maggie nudged the mare into a gentle jog over the loamy sand course. Her ears pinned briefly when Diana made a threatening face. The All For Glory mare had never been the friendliest to her counterparts. Maggie patted Heroine's silky neck, smiled at Ripley. "We're ready when you are."
Ripley yawned, rolled her shoulders. It had been a while since her solo work aboard Mastermind this morning. The track had been dampened considerably and would definitely boost all three fillies up. None of them were particularly delicate and all of them loved to have a little fun. Her green eyes skimmed over the mare and fillies. "Just a three furlong workout today. Nothing too harsh. All of them are coming off solid runs, so a lung opener is just what they need to be at their best in their next-out races."
Supernatural broke out of the trio first, bolting into a ground-swallowing gallop. Reese took big breaths, smiling when the lean gray settled down, head cocked slightly to the right. She was a menace this filly, tough and hard to beat. She was a runner, pure and simple, one that was just as tough as the colt next in line. Reese kept her hands at the filly's withers, easing up on the reins and letting the horse do her thing. She was a three year old horse with the habit of bit grabbing. Luckily, she had some brains to boot and she settled in just in time to see Wishing For A Heroine sweeping by.
Heroine was bloody fast and although she was not the most easily controlled horse on the property, she could rate. Heroine's sleek body danced fluidly over the muddy surface, spattering mud all over her dark belly. She enjoyed herself immensely, eased up on the bit when Maggie jerked it. Little filly could run. Maggie patted the horse's neck, murmured soothing words to her. There was no reason to tear up the course when the likes of Dirty Diana and Supernatural stalked you.
And Dirty Diana had become such a pro at stalking. The roan-gray mare loped casually at the back of the three, awaiting the cue to step into a full on sprint. She was wise enough to know that the real running began in the stretch. This was simple stuff, following these two babies around and stealing the victory. Laura kept her body still as stone while Dirty Diana cruised over the wet course. She was a special mare and growing more so every single day she worked. She was so close to becoming a grade two horse and then after grade two the sky was the limit. Laura could not wait for the journey to continue. She loved these complicated mares and their willful attitudes.
Maggie knew that the only hope Heroine had of staving off the closers was to outfoot them in the turn and keep on chugging. Her little bay horse was getting over the ground great, cruising more effortlessly than before. Her blue eyes sparkled when Heroine switched leads as pretty as she pleased in the turn. She switched gears and surged off of the turn with more zeal than usual. Heroine was flying and throwing down the gauntlet.
Siri bounded after the front-runner with great, leaping strides. She wasn't as much of a fan as the mud, but her determination to crush Heroine urged her onward. Her ears pinned when Dirty Diana bounded up on machine-like strides. Together the grays closed ground on the plucky bay filly, riders at a standstill on their broadbacks. Diana did not get the advantage over Supernatural like she had over the likes of Van Guard. Siri was a good filly, a classic filly. She was a little like still-water in the racing ranks this year, but she was brilliant on her best day. Today was one of those best days.
Heroine still flaunted it on the lead, ears pricked over her slim head. Maggie smiled as the Everyday Hero filly cruised down the stretch. Heroine was a mudder, a great mudder at that. Maggie peeked under her arm looking for Diana and Siri, noted exuberantly that neither mare nor filly was making up ground. With ears pricked, Heroine galloped through the wire and pulled away again in the first turn. This was only the beginning for her.
Diana and Siri battled viciously together with powerful strides, bouncing off of each others' shoulders with dogged-determination. They had failed to catch the sure-footed bay, but neither was going to wave a flag of surrender. They galloped, hooked up as they were, beneath the wire, emboldened with fire and rage. A fast track would await them in the Summer Cup and Preakness Stakes, respectively, and hopefully glory awaited them as well.