Legends.
Aphrodite's Chant & Clarimonde Tusaint
Criosphinx & Tigris Greenfire
Criosphinx & Tigris Greenfire
It was that exciting time of year once again - the final works for the young horses before their racing careers began. There was so much hope, so much anticipation, and so much eager uncertainty that the grounds of the farm seemed to be electrified. The year had ended very well, in spite of everything - though Phantasm Frost had run very hard, he'd come in a very close fourth. However, Shenanigans, who'd been a hellion and unmanageable as a yearling, had finally been harnessed into healthy energy and she'd romped to a win in the Juvenile Fillies. At the beginning of the year, no one could have predicted that outcome. However, Tigris had never given up on her, working endlessly to figure out her enormous amount of quirks and buttons, and finally he'd shown everyone the horse he knew she was.
And now it was a new year, full of potential. Tigris had two juveniles he was debuting in the first week of the year, and the first of which was being ridden in the first of many works that day. Criosphinx, a shorter but already sprinter-thick colt, was likely to be Tigris' biggest project of the year. Unlike many of the juveniles making their first runs, Cry was of unblooded lines and had a lot to prove. Luckily, Cry was already showing a huge amount of talent. The colt had the right mindset, hating to lose and dominant by nature. He was almost too dominant at times, but Tigris wasn't the type to put up with any crap, so they had gotten along okay thus far.
Aphrodite's Chant was another big unknown, though her parents had at least been heard of. She was in the first crop of Positively Precious foals, and the first foal for her dam as well. However, it was never safe or advisable to count a Valkyrie underdog out. Both horses sported the strong, fiery personality to get the job done, and trainer Cole Mavecci could not be happier with the way the crop was shaping up. In a rare showing, Mae Suhail had opted to come and watch the morning routine. To see what the future of Valkyrie held. She was quite comfortable in giving control of her checkbook to her trainer, but that didn't mean she didn't want to check in from time to time. At her side were her sons, ten-year-old Ronan and nine-year-old Kailin. Mae generally tried to keep the boys from getting underfoot at the barn, but the older they got, the more frequently they were out early, asking to help out. Cole kept them to small tasks, with the calmer horses, but their earnestness had them learning quickly, and pretty soon Cole was planning on asking Mae if he minded him really teaching the boys to ride. Some of the broodmares would be great starter horses, and they had plenty of racers that would do well for beginners if asked.
But for now, the two boys watched the track with bright eyes as the grey and chestnut horses trotted by, Tigris and Savita aboard. Tigris didn't spare a glance, but Savita waved down from the grey. Ronan smiled back, while Kai was his normal quiet self. Cole chuckled, shared a knowing smile with Mae, then turned his attention to the track.
While the horses were young and green, they were perfectly manageable. Tigris cantered Cry toward the rail, giving a sharp check of the reins when the colt started tossing his head. Cry huffed, acted like he might try to fight, then settled. Tigris knew it was just anticipation of the run, so he didn't fault the colt his enthusiasm. Chant was a few lanes over, long strides seeming effortless. Her head turned a little, and her top lip drew up for a moment - Tigris laughed out loud at the sight, seeming like a horse sneering at her competition. He looked forward again, saying to his horse, "I guess we'll just have to show her then." Giving a nod, he urged the chestnut into a gallop, holding him back only for the time it took Chant to pull alongside. Then he sent the sprinter forward, and Cry went with incredible acceleration. It was to be a short work, only three furlongs, meaning it wasn't much of a match race between Cry and Chant. Chant was built for longer races, and while this would be a great test of her determination, her lean muscles just could quite keep up over such a short distance.
Savita did want Chant to put in as good a showing as she could. Savita let the grey filly loose, and she charged purposefully after the chestnut. Savita leaned in, letting the filly go at her own pace, which was quite quick and determined for a young horse. Two furlongs flew by, and Chant kept Cry's lead to only one length. However, in the last furlong, Cry began to pull away as expected. Savita could feel Chant straining and fighting beneath her, and continued to do so after the wire until Tigris slowed up Cry and Chant could rush past him. She huffed, pleased with herself, as they slowed down - it seemed the filly wasn't happy unless she came out on top in the end. Chuckling, Savita patted the grey neck, which sported only the lightest hint of sweat. It was hard to predict how the first juvenile races would go, but Savita was guessing their horses would at least have a fighting chance.
And now it was a new year, full of potential. Tigris had two juveniles he was debuting in the first week of the year, and the first of which was being ridden in the first of many works that day. Criosphinx, a shorter but already sprinter-thick colt, was likely to be Tigris' biggest project of the year. Unlike many of the juveniles making their first runs, Cry was of unblooded lines and had a lot to prove. Luckily, Cry was already showing a huge amount of talent. The colt had the right mindset, hating to lose and dominant by nature. He was almost too dominant at times, but Tigris wasn't the type to put up with any crap, so they had gotten along okay thus far.
Aphrodite's Chant was another big unknown, though her parents had at least been heard of. She was in the first crop of Positively Precious foals, and the first foal for her dam as well. However, it was never safe or advisable to count a Valkyrie underdog out. Both horses sported the strong, fiery personality to get the job done, and trainer Cole Mavecci could not be happier with the way the crop was shaping up. In a rare showing, Mae Suhail had opted to come and watch the morning routine. To see what the future of Valkyrie held. She was quite comfortable in giving control of her checkbook to her trainer, but that didn't mean she didn't want to check in from time to time. At her side were her sons, ten-year-old Ronan and nine-year-old Kailin. Mae generally tried to keep the boys from getting underfoot at the barn, but the older they got, the more frequently they were out early, asking to help out. Cole kept them to small tasks, with the calmer horses, but their earnestness had them learning quickly, and pretty soon Cole was planning on asking Mae if he minded him really teaching the boys to ride. Some of the broodmares would be great starter horses, and they had plenty of racers that would do well for beginners if asked.
But for now, the two boys watched the track with bright eyes as the grey and chestnut horses trotted by, Tigris and Savita aboard. Tigris didn't spare a glance, but Savita waved down from the grey. Ronan smiled back, while Kai was his normal quiet self. Cole chuckled, shared a knowing smile with Mae, then turned his attention to the track.
While the horses were young and green, they were perfectly manageable. Tigris cantered Cry toward the rail, giving a sharp check of the reins when the colt started tossing his head. Cry huffed, acted like he might try to fight, then settled. Tigris knew it was just anticipation of the run, so he didn't fault the colt his enthusiasm. Chant was a few lanes over, long strides seeming effortless. Her head turned a little, and her top lip drew up for a moment - Tigris laughed out loud at the sight, seeming like a horse sneering at her competition. He looked forward again, saying to his horse, "I guess we'll just have to show her then." Giving a nod, he urged the chestnut into a gallop, holding him back only for the time it took Chant to pull alongside. Then he sent the sprinter forward, and Cry went with incredible acceleration. It was to be a short work, only three furlongs, meaning it wasn't much of a match race between Cry and Chant. Chant was built for longer races, and while this would be a great test of her determination, her lean muscles just could quite keep up over such a short distance.
Savita did want Chant to put in as good a showing as she could. Savita let the grey filly loose, and she charged purposefully after the chestnut. Savita leaned in, letting the filly go at her own pace, which was quite quick and determined for a young horse. Two furlongs flew by, and Chant kept Cry's lead to only one length. However, in the last furlong, Cry began to pull away as expected. Savita could feel Chant straining and fighting beneath her, and continued to do so after the wire until Tigris slowed up Cry and Chant could rush past him. She huffed, pleased with herself, as they slowed down - it seemed the filly wasn't happy unless she came out on top in the end. Chuckling, Savita patted the grey neck, which sported only the lightest hint of sweat. It was hard to predict how the first juvenile races would go, but Savita was guessing their horses would at least have a fighting chance.
Illusory Wave.
Optical Illusion & Savita Tusaint
Luminous Wave & Desmond Drake
Luminous Wave & Desmond Drake
No one could deny that the sprinters were always the most exciting horses to ride. Explosive speed, wind rushing by, and often finishes that were determined by the bob of a head. Valkyrie had three full sprinter juveniles on the year to boast. One, Criosphinx, had run in the previous work. The other two were a bit more blooded. Actually, they were a little more than that - through their sires, they were both practically royalty of the sprinting world.
Optical Illusion was being held by Jena at the gap, ready for Savita when she hopped off of one grey and was ready for the next. Jena grimaced as she tried in vain to get the dappled grey to hold still - it was like he had some physical aversion to it. Savita laughed as she stepped forward, and the sound seemed to catch Opti's attention for a moment. He skittered to a stop, ears pressed forward as he stretched his head toward her to take a snuffling breath. It would have made a great picture, in that early morning light - however, the spell was quickly broken and something else caught Opti's attention, sending him back to his restless movement. "You'd think he'd be a nutcase under saddle just looking at him," Jena said, expertly maneuvering the colt around her so she herself didn't actually have to move much. Savita gave a half-smile, adjusting the gloves on her hands. "You'd think, but he's not any more neurotic than most other colts. Which isn't saying much, but you know." Jena laughed, then called over to Cole, who was speaking to the now-dismounted Tigris. "Old man, get over here and help me or I'm going to let him do his work without a jockey.
Giving a small grunt of amusement, Cole left Tigris to talk to his sister and made his way over to them. Mounting Opti had proved to be something of a circus act. Minske had been working for over a year to try and get the colt to stand better, trying every technique he could think of, but he'd finally given it up. So, with Jena holding his head, Hal put her hands up on the saddle of the moving target, hopped on one foot twice while Cole held the other and aimed, and on the third hop he heaved her into the saddle. It had happened once or twice that they'd missed and the girl had end up strewn in the dirt, but this time, and most others, she got herself seated comfortably and Opti calmed considerably with a rider up. He did still fidget and skitter sideways, though, she she hurriedly gathered the reins and turned the colt out onto the turf.
While the antics were happening, Desmond had brought down their last sprinter, Luminous Wave. Cole had always liked the Shiver Me Timbers horses, especially after training Prideful Limits. He'd jumped at the chance to have another of the stallion's brood in his string, and so far he wasn't disappointed in what he saw. Lumi was a sweet, easygoing filly. Even now, as Desmond checked her girth, the bay playfully lipped at his helmet but didn't move away from him. Mae and Tigris had walked over, and Cole watched with interest as the filly turned her attention to the woman. Mae wasn't confident around the horses, though not because she wasn't a confident woman - she just wasn't experienced and hadn't had the time to change that. However, when Lumi stuck out her nose, Mae obliging opened her palm, giggling like a girl when the filly licked the salt. "The boys are about to die of jealousy," Tigris commented wryly, and both boys immediately took on defensive posture at their uncle's teasing. "No, no, I'm not making fun of you. Come here, she'll probably do the same to you. Just stay quiet." Lumi watched with interest as the mother backed away and allowed her sons to step up. Ronan went first, smiling with sheer delight when the filly predictably licked his already-larger hand. Kai was a little more reserved, and opted to pet her neck rather than have her perform the same trick. Cole let him have a few moments, then shooed them all away to get the jockey mounted. Desmond gave him a nod before urging the filly out onto the track.
The boys hadn't quite grasped that the workouts weren't actually races. Having chosen her as a favorite now, both were eager to see Lumi 'win' against her competitor. The horses were doing a quick two-furlong breeze, and while they warmed up, Cole chatted with the family about the lines of both horses and who they were related to. Finally, they looked out as the two horses were asked into an easy gallop. With young horses the pace was always quicker than the older ones because of their eagerness. However, he was already seeing the same things in Lumi that they'd been seeing for weeks - she just didn't take works seriously. The only one he'd ever seen her focus in was at the track, with a crowd nearby and excitement in the air. Her type wasn't uncommon, but it didn't make for the greatest show.
Both juveniles were frontrunners, and when they broke off at the 3/4 pole, an immediate duel began to break out. Even without him telling them to, both jockeys spend a few strides reining the horses back in, keeping them at a preferred speed, before completely letting them loose. And when they did, they flew. He could hear the boys cheering, but he was focused on the animals tearing down the track. Lumi, surprisingly enough, was rising to Opti's challenge and both horses were showing a winning drive. It was over quickly, and the horses were still evenly matched when they crossed the wire. Cole found himself smiling - even though the boys looked a little upset. "You know, she never tries that hard at these. I think she was putting on a show for you." Ronan smiled at that, a little happier even though his filly hadn't 'won'. That was why Cole took the time to humor these boys - these were, in fact, their horses. Or would be, someday. He wanted them to appreciate them, to know them, and to love them as an owner should. There was always business, and hard decisions to be made, but it was worth having a personal relationship with at least some of the horses. He had a feeling he didn't have to worry. They were good kids, and he'd have them up and riding soon enough.
Optical Illusion was being held by Jena at the gap, ready for Savita when she hopped off of one grey and was ready for the next. Jena grimaced as she tried in vain to get the dappled grey to hold still - it was like he had some physical aversion to it. Savita laughed as she stepped forward, and the sound seemed to catch Opti's attention for a moment. He skittered to a stop, ears pressed forward as he stretched his head toward her to take a snuffling breath. It would have made a great picture, in that early morning light - however, the spell was quickly broken and something else caught Opti's attention, sending him back to his restless movement. "You'd think he'd be a nutcase under saddle just looking at him," Jena said, expertly maneuvering the colt around her so she herself didn't actually have to move much. Savita gave a half-smile, adjusting the gloves on her hands. "You'd think, but he's not any more neurotic than most other colts. Which isn't saying much, but you know." Jena laughed, then called over to Cole, who was speaking to the now-dismounted Tigris. "Old man, get over here and help me or I'm going to let him do his work without a jockey.
Giving a small grunt of amusement, Cole left Tigris to talk to his sister and made his way over to them. Mounting Opti had proved to be something of a circus act. Minske had been working for over a year to try and get the colt to stand better, trying every technique he could think of, but he'd finally given it up. So, with Jena holding his head, Hal put her hands up on the saddle of the moving target, hopped on one foot twice while Cole held the other and aimed, and on the third hop he heaved her into the saddle. It had happened once or twice that they'd missed and the girl had end up strewn in the dirt, but this time, and most others, she got herself seated comfortably and Opti calmed considerably with a rider up. He did still fidget and skitter sideways, though, she she hurriedly gathered the reins and turned the colt out onto the turf.
While the antics were happening, Desmond had brought down their last sprinter, Luminous Wave. Cole had always liked the Shiver Me Timbers horses, especially after training Prideful Limits. He'd jumped at the chance to have another of the stallion's brood in his string, and so far he wasn't disappointed in what he saw. Lumi was a sweet, easygoing filly. Even now, as Desmond checked her girth, the bay playfully lipped at his helmet but didn't move away from him. Mae and Tigris had walked over, and Cole watched with interest as the filly turned her attention to the woman. Mae wasn't confident around the horses, though not because she wasn't a confident woman - she just wasn't experienced and hadn't had the time to change that. However, when Lumi stuck out her nose, Mae obliging opened her palm, giggling like a girl when the filly licked the salt. "The boys are about to die of jealousy," Tigris commented wryly, and both boys immediately took on defensive posture at their uncle's teasing. "No, no, I'm not making fun of you. Come here, she'll probably do the same to you. Just stay quiet." Lumi watched with interest as the mother backed away and allowed her sons to step up. Ronan went first, smiling with sheer delight when the filly predictably licked his already-larger hand. Kai was a little more reserved, and opted to pet her neck rather than have her perform the same trick. Cole let him have a few moments, then shooed them all away to get the jockey mounted. Desmond gave him a nod before urging the filly out onto the track.
The boys hadn't quite grasped that the workouts weren't actually races. Having chosen her as a favorite now, both were eager to see Lumi 'win' against her competitor. The horses were doing a quick two-furlong breeze, and while they warmed up, Cole chatted with the family about the lines of both horses and who they were related to. Finally, they looked out as the two horses were asked into an easy gallop. With young horses the pace was always quicker than the older ones because of their eagerness. However, he was already seeing the same things in Lumi that they'd been seeing for weeks - she just didn't take works seriously. The only one he'd ever seen her focus in was at the track, with a crowd nearby and excitement in the air. Her type wasn't uncommon, but it didn't make for the greatest show.
Both juveniles were frontrunners, and when they broke off at the 3/4 pole, an immediate duel began to break out. Even without him telling them to, both jockeys spend a few strides reining the horses back in, keeping them at a preferred speed, before completely letting them loose. And when they did, they flew. He could hear the boys cheering, but he was focused on the animals tearing down the track. Lumi, surprisingly enough, was rising to Opti's challenge and both horses were showing a winning drive. It was over quickly, and the horses were still evenly matched when they crossed the wire. Cole found himself smiling - even though the boys looked a little upset. "You know, she never tries that hard at these. I think she was putting on a show for you." Ronan smiled at that, a little happier even though his filly hadn't 'won'. That was why Cole took the time to humor these boys - these were, in fact, their horses. Or would be, someday. He wanted them to appreciate them, to know them, and to love them as an owner should. There was always business, and hard decisions to be made, but it was worth having a personal relationship with at least some of the horses. He had a feeling he didn't have to worry. They were good kids, and he'd have them up and riding soon enough.
Fly Away Home.
Wyvern & Halexia Suhail
Spitterfly & Vivien Charron
Spitterfly & Vivien Charron
Late in year fourteen, Cole had somewhat jokingly called Wyvern their best-kept secret. Jokingly or not, it was true, and Wyvern was likely to be a major threat on the track in the coming season. His sire was old blood, and hadn't, as far as anyone could tell, ever actually had a foal on the track. However, he'd been saved by Intrepid for a special occasion because of his potential, and they'd allowed Valkyrie to breed one of their very successful mares to him: Trust Limits. Some had said she would only be able to produce top-class sprinters, but her foal Limited Edition had put a stop to that. The Preakness Stakes and Belmont Stakes winner was the perfect predecessor to declare Wyvern's coming presence - he was completely expected to do both of his parents proud. Halexia had been quick to pick the colt out as her only juvenile on the season, and Cole had let her do as she pleased - the woman was good with the heady males, and she had an eye for talent. The bay was already tall and relatively defined, so his strength and personality combination could be troublesome for handlers - currently, Minske.
The leather of the chaffed his hand as Wyvern yanked his head, and Minske winced - he hadn't thought gloves would be necessary, but he should have known better. More than anyone, Minske knew these juveniles - he'd worked with them almost exclusively for the past year, and really was the one to go to if the juveniles were causing problems. However, there were just some things that couldn't be easily fixed while keeping a horse in a top competitive mindset, and so he was forced to deal with certain misbehaviors. He reached the spot where his father waited, and handed off the lead. While the colt chewed his bit, Minske took the chance to quickly run his hands down his canons, checking for heat - the idiot had been striking at the ground while he was tied and waiting, and stone floors weren't necessarily easy on joints. However, Wyvern seemed unperturbed and there was no sign that the activity had hurt him any. "I just don't want him to pop a splint over something so stupid," Minske said with a sigh as he straightened back up. "I'll tie him outside from now on if I need to. He'd probably be more entertained that way anyway." Cole nodded in agreement, handing the colt back to his son and assistant. Luckily, popped splints hadn't been a huge problem in their juveniles. Since the young horses were run on pasture instead of being stalled most of the time, their bones seemed to be healthy and didn't crack under the strain.
"Is Hal here yet?" Minske asked, though looking around he didn't see the woman.
"Here." The voice whispered directly into his ear and he jumped despite himself. He turned to look ruefully at his friend and Wyvern followed his movement, reaching out for a nip at Hal's shoulder - Minske stopped him short with a snap of the chain and the colt threw up his head, looking down at him with pure dislike. "I'm glad he likes one of us. I'd think he'd lose with me up just to spite me," he said wearily, stepping back as Hal stepped up to the bay's head. Wyvern immediately dropped his head, playful nips aside, and allowed her to rub his starkly white star. "He's just got good taste, that's all," she teased, and Minske rolled his eyes. He passed the lead off to his father again and moved to meet Vivien, who had arrived with a much more sweet-tempered animal. "'Morning, Vivien. How does she seem?" The blonde smiled, scratching the Spitterfly's neck when she leaned against him. "She seems great, of course. As always."
"Alright then, up we go." Cole's voice rang out, and everyone moved into high gear. A conditioned response for Minske, and perhaps for everyone else by now as well. Minske threw the younger boy up, then watched happily as Spitterfly walked toward the track. The three-year-old had a beautifully long stride, eye-catching everywhere she went. Spitter had been a steal, even if she hadn't been able to run much the previous year - she'd been very consistent, and he was expecting blue-blooded filly to show her true talent this year. The Turf Triple Tiara was the aim, but these next few races would tell for sure. They figured a work between the two horses would be great experience for Wyvern and a refreshing confidence-builder for Spitter.
Minske moved to the rail with the rest of the crowd, Cole on one side and Tigris on the other. It was strange, seeing Tigris and Mae together - when they were younger, Mae hadn't ever wanted much to do with them, being ten years older. But now there was a comfortable sense of belonging between the siblings, and Minske found he quite liked the woman. He got along very well with her husband, too, when he was around.
As they watched, the horses finished warming up and broke into a gallop. Wyvern broke off about two lengths behind for the half-mile work - while he likely wouldn't be able to catch the more mature filly, he loved the chase and they wanted to encourage that. Hal settled the colt down and he moved beautifully into the turn. Spitter was as professional as could be, looking effortless despite the speed she was obviously showing. Wyvern began inching up through the turn, determination in every line of his body though he wasn't running flat-out yet. As they came out of the turn, Hal let the bay loose. He hesitated a moment, but urging from his rider gave him all the excuse he needed - he burst forward, charging, gaining.... until Vivien let Spitter loose. The grey turned the colt back solidly, acceleration across the turf like she had wings. Wyvern rallied, fought - but he wasn't catching the older horse, not today. Minske was smiling as Spitter flew by, Wyvern driving after her a few lengths back. As per usual instructions with juveniles, Vivien eased Spitter on the gallop out enough to let the determined Wyvern pass her up. Only then did Hal ease the colt, rubbing his neck and praising him for his effort. When they pulled up, the bay looked tired but completely satisfied, head high and confident. Spitter pretty much ignored him - she knew her own worth.
The leather of the chaffed his hand as Wyvern yanked his head, and Minske winced - he hadn't thought gloves would be necessary, but he should have known better. More than anyone, Minske knew these juveniles - he'd worked with them almost exclusively for the past year, and really was the one to go to if the juveniles were causing problems. However, there were just some things that couldn't be easily fixed while keeping a horse in a top competitive mindset, and so he was forced to deal with certain misbehaviors. He reached the spot where his father waited, and handed off the lead. While the colt chewed his bit, Minske took the chance to quickly run his hands down his canons, checking for heat - the idiot had been striking at the ground while he was tied and waiting, and stone floors weren't necessarily easy on joints. However, Wyvern seemed unperturbed and there was no sign that the activity had hurt him any. "I just don't want him to pop a splint over something so stupid," Minske said with a sigh as he straightened back up. "I'll tie him outside from now on if I need to. He'd probably be more entertained that way anyway." Cole nodded in agreement, handing the colt back to his son and assistant. Luckily, popped splints hadn't been a huge problem in their juveniles. Since the young horses were run on pasture instead of being stalled most of the time, their bones seemed to be healthy and didn't crack under the strain.
"Is Hal here yet?" Minske asked, though looking around he didn't see the woman.
"Here." The voice whispered directly into his ear and he jumped despite himself. He turned to look ruefully at his friend and Wyvern followed his movement, reaching out for a nip at Hal's shoulder - Minske stopped him short with a snap of the chain and the colt threw up his head, looking down at him with pure dislike. "I'm glad he likes one of us. I'd think he'd lose with me up just to spite me," he said wearily, stepping back as Hal stepped up to the bay's head. Wyvern immediately dropped his head, playful nips aside, and allowed her to rub his starkly white star. "He's just got good taste, that's all," she teased, and Minske rolled his eyes. He passed the lead off to his father again and moved to meet Vivien, who had arrived with a much more sweet-tempered animal. "'Morning, Vivien. How does she seem?" The blonde smiled, scratching the Spitterfly's neck when she leaned against him. "She seems great, of course. As always."
"Alright then, up we go." Cole's voice rang out, and everyone moved into high gear. A conditioned response for Minske, and perhaps for everyone else by now as well. Minske threw the younger boy up, then watched happily as Spitterfly walked toward the track. The three-year-old had a beautifully long stride, eye-catching everywhere she went. Spitter had been a steal, even if she hadn't been able to run much the previous year - she'd been very consistent, and he was expecting blue-blooded filly to show her true talent this year. The Turf Triple Tiara was the aim, but these next few races would tell for sure. They figured a work between the two horses would be great experience for Wyvern and a refreshing confidence-builder for Spitter.
Minske moved to the rail with the rest of the crowd, Cole on one side and Tigris on the other. It was strange, seeing Tigris and Mae together - when they were younger, Mae hadn't ever wanted much to do with them, being ten years older. But now there was a comfortable sense of belonging between the siblings, and Minske found he quite liked the woman. He got along very well with her husband, too, when he was around.
As they watched, the horses finished warming up and broke into a gallop. Wyvern broke off about two lengths behind for the half-mile work - while he likely wouldn't be able to catch the more mature filly, he loved the chase and they wanted to encourage that. Hal settled the colt down and he moved beautifully into the turn. Spitter was as professional as could be, looking effortless despite the speed she was obviously showing. Wyvern began inching up through the turn, determination in every line of his body though he wasn't running flat-out yet. As they came out of the turn, Hal let the bay loose. He hesitated a moment, but urging from his rider gave him all the excuse he needed - he burst forward, charging, gaining.... until Vivien let Spitter loose. The grey turned the colt back solidly, acceleration across the turf like she had wings. Wyvern rallied, fought - but he wasn't catching the older horse, not today. Minske was smiling as Spitter flew by, Wyvern driving after her a few lengths back. As per usual instructions with juveniles, Vivien eased Spitter on the gallop out enough to let the determined Wyvern pass her up. Only then did Hal ease the colt, rubbing his neck and praising him for his effort. When they pulled up, the bay looked tired but completely satisfied, head high and confident. Spitter pretty much ignored him - she knew her own worth.
Sweet Nothings.
Grey's Whisper & Savita Tusaint
Ode To Glory & Halexia Suhail
Sweet Mimosa & Tigris Greenfire
Ode To Glory & Halexia Suhail
Sweet Mimosa & Tigris Greenfire
"Alright guys, line 'em up. We need to get these guys rolling. Five furlongs. " It was a none-too-gentle nudge, and Minske hid a grin - Cole didn't mind the younger staff's antics as long as things were still timely, and he obviously had things waiting for him when the works were done today. The next three horses had been brought out while the others were taken to hotwalkers, and they made a pretty sight standing there indeed. There weren't many stallions that would be perfectly content just standing and waiting side-by-side, but Grey's Wisdom and Ode To Glory were some of the most easy-going Thoroughbreds around. They were like in build and height, but the differences were obvious to those who knew them. The cinnamon hint to Wes' coat put him apart from the more iron grey of Ode, and he also stood a little taller than the other horse. But in many other ways, they were very similar, and everyone was hoping Wes would catch up to Ode's success and that Ode would reach even greater heights this year. The last horse to run in the work was also the last juvenile to work for the first week, and she was easily one of the most exciting prospects they'd had to date. The first daughter of grade one star Screaming Mimi, Sweet Mimosa was a spitting image of her successful dam. Her sire was a freshman, but he'd drawn three mares for his very first batch and Valkyrie was more than happy to help the Witch Creek stallion make a name for himself. Running her with the older horses would be a great motivator, as with Wyvern - she did well with a challenge, and being shown up by the older horses would only make her more fired up for her first race.
Since Hal ride both Wes and Ode, she was mounted on Ode and Savita had taken the mount on Wes for the work. Tigris, who had more of the juvies than anyone this season, was up on Osa. The pretty black filly tossed her head, dancing sideways with a bowed neck and flashing tail, looking all the picture of a fiery, talented racehorse. The stallions watched here with calm eyes, Ode snorting as if he was humoring a child. But child or not, Osa had real talent, and Tigris couldn't be more excited for her. Without further stalling, the horses were moved out onto the turf.
"That's a lot of potential in one bunch," Minske commented to his father as they were put through their paces. Osa was showing some antics, but nothing Tigris couldn't deal with, and the older horses seemed to be having the desired effect of calming her down faster. Cole nodded, a smile on his face. "Wes could be sitting on a huge year, if he shows us what he did two years ago. Ode we know has the talent, and we're about to give him the full opportunity. And Osa... well, we'll have to see, but I'm about as sure of her as I've ever been about a new juvenile. Not that that count for much." Minske couldn't disagree - juvenile years were so incredibly unpredictable. They'd just have to see if she had what they all were sure she did. She could be their new Shenanigans - but maybe even better, without Shenanigans' difficult personality. One could hope, anyway.
They were moved up to a gallop. A few yards from the 3/8ths pole, Wes inched up to take his customary position as frontrunner, Osa settled a length back, and Ode hovered just to her outside. The three of them picked up the pace, moving easily, and Osa seemed to keep up well with the stallions. Nothing much changed as they entered the turn, keeping the status quo until they rolled into the stretch. Ode kicked first, and Osa followed quickly on his heels, both swinging out to move around Wes. Except Wes was kicking in as well - for a few strides, the three horses were dead even. Then the greys began pulling away, churning forward on the turf. Minske found himself leaning in, watching intently, excitedly - Ode was showing his customary speed and strength, but Wes was keeping up. He was fighting more than he normally did, showing more heart. He let out a cheer as they flew past the wire neck and neck. He couldn't say who'd gone past first, and he felt a thrill run through him at the time his father flashed him on the stopwatch. Yes, it was about to be a big year for both Wes and Ode. And Osa was only two lengths behind them, and running hard to catch them. If she kept up that fire, she would run down her peers very soon.
Since Hal ride both Wes and Ode, she was mounted on Ode and Savita had taken the mount on Wes for the work. Tigris, who had more of the juvies than anyone this season, was up on Osa. The pretty black filly tossed her head, dancing sideways with a bowed neck and flashing tail, looking all the picture of a fiery, talented racehorse. The stallions watched here with calm eyes, Ode snorting as if he was humoring a child. But child or not, Osa had real talent, and Tigris couldn't be more excited for her. Without further stalling, the horses were moved out onto the turf.
"That's a lot of potential in one bunch," Minske commented to his father as they were put through their paces. Osa was showing some antics, but nothing Tigris couldn't deal with, and the older horses seemed to be having the desired effect of calming her down faster. Cole nodded, a smile on his face. "Wes could be sitting on a huge year, if he shows us what he did two years ago. Ode we know has the talent, and we're about to give him the full opportunity. And Osa... well, we'll have to see, but I'm about as sure of her as I've ever been about a new juvenile. Not that that count for much." Minske couldn't disagree - juvenile years were so incredibly unpredictable. They'd just have to see if she had what they all were sure she did. She could be their new Shenanigans - but maybe even better, without Shenanigans' difficult personality. One could hope, anyway.
They were moved up to a gallop. A few yards from the 3/8ths pole, Wes inched up to take his customary position as frontrunner, Osa settled a length back, and Ode hovered just to her outside. The three of them picked up the pace, moving easily, and Osa seemed to keep up well with the stallions. Nothing much changed as they entered the turn, keeping the status quo until they rolled into the stretch. Ode kicked first, and Osa followed quickly on his heels, both swinging out to move around Wes. Except Wes was kicking in as well - for a few strides, the three horses were dead even. Then the greys began pulling away, churning forward on the turf. Minske found himself leaning in, watching intently, excitedly - Ode was showing his customary speed and strength, but Wes was keeping up. He was fighting more than he normally did, showing more heart. He let out a cheer as they flew past the wire neck and neck. He couldn't say who'd gone past first, and he felt a thrill run through him at the time his father flashed him on the stopwatch. Yes, it was about to be a big year for both Wes and Ode. And Osa was only two lengths behind them, and running hard to catch them. If she kept up that fire, she would run down her peers very soon.
Wild for the Win.
Wild Determination & Savita Tusaint
Fifty in Front & Tigris Greenfire
Amarillo Sky & Halexia Suhail
Fifty in Front & Tigris Greenfire
Amarillo Sky & Halexia Suhail
Old blood, new blood, and hot-blooded royalty, all incredibly talented despite their different grades. Wild Determination, the mare who had started racing late in life but was showing a huge amount of talent. Fifty in Front, the colt who had always had to fight tooth and nail to prove himself and was doing a pretty good job of it. And Amarillo Sky, the underdog who had finally made it to the top ranks - he was sitting on his year to shine. Savita was up on the grey mare, who trotted prettily as a princess' mount out onto the dirt. Tigris was quickly up on his stallion as well. Amarillo Sky, predictable, was the one taking the most time. He seemed agitated, though that wasn't abnormal, and he was thrashing his head and half-rearing against the leads holding him. Hal was still finishing up with Ode, which was part of the problem - Rillo only really behaved for her. Handing the grey off quickly, Hal jogged over, keeping a bit of distance but raising her pinkies to her mouth and letting out a loud, sharp whistle. Rillo shied a step, surprised by the sudden noise, but it only took him a moment to register that he recognized the noise and the person who made it. While he was calm, they got Hal thrown up and moving out onto the track before he could get irritated at the handlers' presence again. It was from one thing to another, though, since the other horses would make him just as agitated as the humans did. Hal was the only one he seemed willing to stand.
Minske had hung back during the whole scene, since Rillo didn't like him any more than he liked the rest of them. But he'd been keeping watch in case extra hands were needed, and now he turned back to the track to watch the horses work. Destiny moved easily, seeming to float over the track as she warmed up. She really was a perfect creature - everyone was hoping she'd make a huge leap this year despite the odds against her. Finn was close by, and his movement wasn't nearly as smooth as the mare's. However, he was effective regardless, so even if he wasn't pretty to look at he was tolerable to watch. Rillo was somewhere between the two - he could be as smooth as Destiny if he wasn't exuding aggression with every stride. They made it through the warm up without incidence, and finally they moved into a gallop and geared up for the five-furlong work.
Rillo struck determinedly to the front, and Destiny and Finn settled closely together about a furlong behind him. All would be most comfortable on the lead, but Rillo was the most die-hard of them. They galloped into the turn, speed held steady for the moment as they charged around the turn. Finn began his move first, about halfway around the turn, and Destiny followed a few seconds later. Finn drew even with Rillo just when they rolled onto the stretch and everyone kicked into finishing gear. Rillo rallied wildly when Finn started getting ahead of him, and Destiny on his heels seemed to enrage him even further. The older stallion found another gear, inching back up on the chestnut, getting a nose in front, a head... Rillo was in control going past the wire, with Destiny and Finn duking it out for second. Hal was looking completely pleased with herself when she pulled Rillo up, and Tigris looked like he'd sucked something sour - not uncommon when he was beaten by their friend, since Hal loved to rub it in. Ah, well. They looked prepared to take on their perspective fields, anyway.
Minske had hung back during the whole scene, since Rillo didn't like him any more than he liked the rest of them. But he'd been keeping watch in case extra hands were needed, and now he turned back to the track to watch the horses work. Destiny moved easily, seeming to float over the track as she warmed up. She really was a perfect creature - everyone was hoping she'd make a huge leap this year despite the odds against her. Finn was close by, and his movement wasn't nearly as smooth as the mare's. However, he was effective regardless, so even if he wasn't pretty to look at he was tolerable to watch. Rillo was somewhere between the two - he could be as smooth as Destiny if he wasn't exuding aggression with every stride. They made it through the warm up without incidence, and finally they moved into a gallop and geared up for the five-furlong work.
Rillo struck determinedly to the front, and Destiny and Finn settled closely together about a furlong behind him. All would be most comfortable on the lead, but Rillo was the most die-hard of them. They galloped into the turn, speed held steady for the moment as they charged around the turn. Finn began his move first, about halfway around the turn, and Destiny followed a few seconds later. Finn drew even with Rillo just when they rolled onto the stretch and everyone kicked into finishing gear. Rillo rallied wildly when Finn started getting ahead of him, and Destiny on his heels seemed to enrage him even further. The older stallion found another gear, inching back up on the chestnut, getting a nose in front, a head... Rillo was in control going past the wire, with Destiny and Finn duking it out for second. Hal was looking completely pleased with herself when she pulled Rillo up, and Tigris looked like he'd sucked something sour - not uncommon when he was beaten by their friend, since Hal loved to rub it in. Ah, well. They looked prepared to take on their perspective fields, anyway.