Raging
Sweet Inferno & Halexia Suhail
At the risk of an overused pun, Sweet Inferno had been on fire in her first race and that held definite promise of the coming year. For Cole, it was never a thought that this wasn't a horse that belonged to Valkyrie, though he was sure his employers did wish she was theirs. For him, Sweetie was just another horse that he trained. They were all his in the same way. And given that, he knew he couldn't have gotten the black mare at a more opportune time in her career. As his connections at Stride of Perfection had said, the mare was working her way up, steadily, year to year - after a third, then a second, in the Breeders' Cup Marathon, the stars were aligning. If her performance in the Unicorn Horn Dirt Classic was any indicator, she was very likely entering her peak year against massively strong competition. But when you knew you had enough horse, what difference did competition make? If any horse was ready for some heavy adversity, it was the black daughter of Crooked Fire.
It was dark out when Hal brought Sweetie out of the barn, much the way she had with Rillo only two weeks before. While Valkyrie wasn't in the habit of working the horses late, the weather was more bearable later in the day than early given the biting temperatures of late. Hal was as bundled as she ever got, though most would think it was still too light - however, she always said she was hot-blooded by nature, and it showed at times like this. The mare was being a handful, surprisingly moreso than the headstrong stallions Hal normally worked with. Her magic, as it was, was with males - females were often a little trickier. However, she was chill as could be, walking on her heels as the mare tossed her head and chewed at the bit. She kept trying to plow forward but Hal kept her arm strong, pulling the mare's nose around toward her so she couldn't actually get any momentum up. In that position, Sweetie's large black eye was just before her - Hal couldn't deny the chills she felt up her spine. The mare had heart, and will, and passion, and it was all evident in her eyes as if it were words on a page. Hal found herself grinning, despite herself - not a happy or nice smile, but a predatory grin. No one could ever deny she had some sadist in her, and if she could take her competitors - friend or not - down in resounding fashion, she would relish in the moment. The mare might not feel the same, but she still had the same competitive spirit in her. It was exciting beyond words.
When she got to the track, Cole got her mounted. Once she had the track in front of her and a rider in the saddle, Sweetie calmed considerably. Hal wasn't fooled, though. She knew what was still raging inside of the mare, just waiting to be unleashed. She looked down at Cole, and realized he'd been watching her. She grinned, much more slyly this time, and leaned forward to stretch over the mare's neck in a languid fashion. "Mesmerized?" she quipped, and his reaction was oh so predictable. The older man cleared his throat, blush hidden by his already cold-reddened cheeks, and shot her a glare. "Not quite. Take her five furlongs, and only push her at the end if she'd not picking it up on her own." Hal laughed, the sound startling the mare beneath her, and the woman just managed to get her head out of the way before she was hit by a solid wall of neck. Soothing the black with one hand, Hal said, "I doubt that'll ever be necessary." Giving a small grunt of acknowledgement, Cole waved her off, and Hal turned the pretty mare to the dirt. The shadows stood stark from the bright lights illuminating the track, just like they had the last time she'd brought a horse out like this - while no one was in the habit of night rides, she couldn't deny that they were right up her alley.
She put Sweetie to a trot and the mare was polite as could be, though her strides were long and bold and always right on the edge of breaking gait. Hal could feel the surging of the mare's muscles, primely fit and lacking for nothing - power just waiting to be unleashed. She put her into a canter, let her get settled, then took her to a gallop. On the rail, Hal had to keep her under a hard hold for a few strides to get them to their starting point - when they got there, she leaned forward and slid her hands up and that was all the encouragement Sweetie needed. The mare surged forward, bounding with strong hindquarters and sending dirt flying behind her. Hal eased her on the front end, encouraging the mare to stretch out and relax - it took another couple of strides, but the mare found her pace, and Hal could vaguely hear Cole's loud whistle of appreciation from across the oval. She half-smiled, and kept Sweetie held to that pace as they rolled into the turn. The mare was a frontrunner by nature, so Hal waited to make her move until they were out of the turn for a good couple of lengths. When she did give Sweetie her head, her response was instantaneous. The mare quickened her strides and really started reaching, flattening out on her own volition. Cole would later say that Hal was still as a statue up there, just along for the ride while Sweet Inferno moved like a freak force of nature, accelerating as she crossed the wire. Would she win the Dawn Treader? Well, Cole wasn't one to jinx himself before a race. But she did have better than average form, speed, and class, and she would give her competitors a run for their money.
It was dark out when Hal brought Sweetie out of the barn, much the way she had with Rillo only two weeks before. While Valkyrie wasn't in the habit of working the horses late, the weather was more bearable later in the day than early given the biting temperatures of late. Hal was as bundled as she ever got, though most would think it was still too light - however, she always said she was hot-blooded by nature, and it showed at times like this. The mare was being a handful, surprisingly moreso than the headstrong stallions Hal normally worked with. Her magic, as it was, was with males - females were often a little trickier. However, she was chill as could be, walking on her heels as the mare tossed her head and chewed at the bit. She kept trying to plow forward but Hal kept her arm strong, pulling the mare's nose around toward her so she couldn't actually get any momentum up. In that position, Sweetie's large black eye was just before her - Hal couldn't deny the chills she felt up her spine. The mare had heart, and will, and passion, and it was all evident in her eyes as if it were words on a page. Hal found herself grinning, despite herself - not a happy or nice smile, but a predatory grin. No one could ever deny she had some sadist in her, and if she could take her competitors - friend or not - down in resounding fashion, she would relish in the moment. The mare might not feel the same, but she still had the same competitive spirit in her. It was exciting beyond words.
When she got to the track, Cole got her mounted. Once she had the track in front of her and a rider in the saddle, Sweetie calmed considerably. Hal wasn't fooled, though. She knew what was still raging inside of the mare, just waiting to be unleashed. She looked down at Cole, and realized he'd been watching her. She grinned, much more slyly this time, and leaned forward to stretch over the mare's neck in a languid fashion. "Mesmerized?" she quipped, and his reaction was oh so predictable. The older man cleared his throat, blush hidden by his already cold-reddened cheeks, and shot her a glare. "Not quite. Take her five furlongs, and only push her at the end if she'd not picking it up on her own." Hal laughed, the sound startling the mare beneath her, and the woman just managed to get her head out of the way before she was hit by a solid wall of neck. Soothing the black with one hand, Hal said, "I doubt that'll ever be necessary." Giving a small grunt of acknowledgement, Cole waved her off, and Hal turned the pretty mare to the dirt. The shadows stood stark from the bright lights illuminating the track, just like they had the last time she'd brought a horse out like this - while no one was in the habit of night rides, she couldn't deny that they were right up her alley.
She put Sweetie to a trot and the mare was polite as could be, though her strides were long and bold and always right on the edge of breaking gait. Hal could feel the surging of the mare's muscles, primely fit and lacking for nothing - power just waiting to be unleashed. She put her into a canter, let her get settled, then took her to a gallop. On the rail, Hal had to keep her under a hard hold for a few strides to get them to their starting point - when they got there, she leaned forward and slid her hands up and that was all the encouragement Sweetie needed. The mare surged forward, bounding with strong hindquarters and sending dirt flying behind her. Hal eased her on the front end, encouraging the mare to stretch out and relax - it took another couple of strides, but the mare found her pace, and Hal could vaguely hear Cole's loud whistle of appreciation from across the oval. She half-smiled, and kept Sweetie held to that pace as they rolled into the turn. The mare was a frontrunner by nature, so Hal waited to make her move until they were out of the turn for a good couple of lengths. When she did give Sweetie her head, her response was instantaneous. The mare quickened her strides and really started reaching, flattening out on her own volition. Cole would later say that Hal was still as a statue up there, just along for the ride while Sweet Inferno moved like a freak force of nature, accelerating as she crossed the wire. Would she win the Dawn Treader? Well, Cole wasn't one to jinx himself before a race. But she did have better than average form, speed, and class, and she would give her competitors a run for their money.