Don't Just Try
Jericho & Tigris Greenfire
Passionate God & Halexia Suhail
Passionate God & Halexia Suhail
"There, hold him like that. Not too tight, but don't let him rocket off either." It was hard to imagine Tigris as being good with children, and he'd be the first one to deny it - but as Minske held a second lead opposite the others, he couldn't help but thinking that his friend was a pretty good uncle. Kailin had been bummed about being left behind while Ronan and Mae took a trip to some science convention up north, so Tigris had asked Kai to tag along with them for the day. The nine-year-old and his brother had started riding lessons with Minske two weeks before, and Kai was proving to be a natural. Native Harlot had turned out to be a great teacher, and was incredibly gentle and understanding with the boys as long as they didn't do anything too incredibly stupid. They'd quickly learned that yanking on her mouth - a rookie mistake - would find them on the ground. Luckily the brothers weren't the sort to give up and go home after a spill. While one rode under Tigris' instructions, the other would hang in the middle of the arena with Minske and Earthly Witch, making both mom and daughter more comfortable. Era was a spunky filly, and a great teacher in her own right - they'd make horsemen of the boys yet.
For now, Kai was just helping with little things, and at the moment that included learning how to lead a good-natured but still young colt. Jericho seemed interested in the whole process, constantly trying to turn his head and investigate the boy's hands. To Kai's credit, he didn't pull away as some inexperienced kids would, but it probably helped that Minske was on the other side to keep Jer on track. "Is he running this weekend?" Kai asked once he got his hands sorted out, looking up at the bay. "Yup. Which is why he's getting another work now, to try and sharpen him up." When they got closer to the track, they caught sight of Hal circling an obviously anxious Passionate God. "Alright, Kai. Go watch with Minske." He didn't expect Jer to cause any problems, but colts were always unpredictable around each other. Kai nodded and went with Minske, a lot more complacent than normal - he's liked his uncle, especially when he was getting to do new things. "I want to ride them, too. Someday." Minske smiled down at the boy, pocketing the impulse to ruffle the kid's hair. "You will. For now, just observe." Minske had been pounding that notion into Kai's head for a long time now, and Kai nodded eagerly, eyes never leaving the two horses.
Hal laughed a little breathlessly as Nate reared, slender, muscular legs lashing out. Hal ducked to the side easily, smacking his haunch with the end of her lead to transfer his weight forward again. "Someone's in a rare mood," she cooed, and Tigris couldn't understand why that seemed to make her mood even better. The colt danced around her a few more times, neck arched and aggressive, before he stopped moving and the two stared each other down for a long moment. Then he tossed his head once and let out a long, snorted breath, lowering his head. "Good boy," she said happily, and Tigris just shook his head. The term horse whisperer was overrated, but she did have some innate ability he'd never been able to fathom. Ah, well. Cole came over now that the fireworks were done, giving Hal a suspicious look like he wondered if she'd somehow egged the colt on. He didn't say anything about it, though, giving them instructions as he threw them on. "Take them four, and make them work. I don't want them to get complacent." Tigris nodded - he couldn't blame Jer for his loss week two, not after being out of the game for so long. However, he didn't want it to be a premonition of things to come. Jericho was better than that. He had the breeding, the talent... he just needed a break. And Tigris would do whatever he could to make it happen.
When they were mounted, the two horses were taken out onto the turf. Nate was still posturing some, but Jer was used to it and didn't rise to the challenge. Eventually Nate settled, as he tended to do in Jericho's company. They took their time warming up in the cold air, allowing the horses - mostly Nate - time to relax before they went full-tilt. When they were deemed ready, Hal took Nate to the rail first, getting him into a slow gallop while Jericho followed suit a few lengths back. They eased through a furlong before they hit their mark - both riders urged the horses on, asking them for a brisk pace. The colts were eager and willing, flying around the turn with great, surging strides. Normally they let the horses cruise at a pace like that, but as per Cole's orders, they asked for more. Tigris got Jericho going first, pushing his hands along his neck and sitting low over his withers. The colt took up the push, lengthening his strides and puffing breath from great, flared nostrils. When he was almost even with Nate, Hal gave a whoop and got her colt moving as well. The two horses positively blistered through the last furlong, neck on neck and driving forward as they flew by the wire together. The jockeyed galloped them out strongly, and by the time they pulled up both horses had worked up a good sweat. Kai jogged over, waiting for a nod from Tigris before he gave Jericho a good scratch on his neck. The colt lowered his head wearily, lipping at the boy's shoulder before Tigris hopped off and the two steaming horses were handed off to be walked out. "Perfect," Cole said happily, tapping his clipboard with his pen. The colts were ready - they just had to bring their A game next time around.
For now, Kai was just helping with little things, and at the moment that included learning how to lead a good-natured but still young colt. Jericho seemed interested in the whole process, constantly trying to turn his head and investigate the boy's hands. To Kai's credit, he didn't pull away as some inexperienced kids would, but it probably helped that Minske was on the other side to keep Jer on track. "Is he running this weekend?" Kai asked once he got his hands sorted out, looking up at the bay. "Yup. Which is why he's getting another work now, to try and sharpen him up." When they got closer to the track, they caught sight of Hal circling an obviously anxious Passionate God. "Alright, Kai. Go watch with Minske." He didn't expect Jer to cause any problems, but colts were always unpredictable around each other. Kai nodded and went with Minske, a lot more complacent than normal - he's liked his uncle, especially when he was getting to do new things. "I want to ride them, too. Someday." Minske smiled down at the boy, pocketing the impulse to ruffle the kid's hair. "You will. For now, just observe." Minske had been pounding that notion into Kai's head for a long time now, and Kai nodded eagerly, eyes never leaving the two horses.
Hal laughed a little breathlessly as Nate reared, slender, muscular legs lashing out. Hal ducked to the side easily, smacking his haunch with the end of her lead to transfer his weight forward again. "Someone's in a rare mood," she cooed, and Tigris couldn't understand why that seemed to make her mood even better. The colt danced around her a few more times, neck arched and aggressive, before he stopped moving and the two stared each other down for a long moment. Then he tossed his head once and let out a long, snorted breath, lowering his head. "Good boy," she said happily, and Tigris just shook his head. The term horse whisperer was overrated, but she did have some innate ability he'd never been able to fathom. Ah, well. Cole came over now that the fireworks were done, giving Hal a suspicious look like he wondered if she'd somehow egged the colt on. He didn't say anything about it, though, giving them instructions as he threw them on. "Take them four, and make them work. I don't want them to get complacent." Tigris nodded - he couldn't blame Jer for his loss week two, not after being out of the game for so long. However, he didn't want it to be a premonition of things to come. Jericho was better than that. He had the breeding, the talent... he just needed a break. And Tigris would do whatever he could to make it happen.
When they were mounted, the two horses were taken out onto the turf. Nate was still posturing some, but Jer was used to it and didn't rise to the challenge. Eventually Nate settled, as he tended to do in Jericho's company. They took their time warming up in the cold air, allowing the horses - mostly Nate - time to relax before they went full-tilt. When they were deemed ready, Hal took Nate to the rail first, getting him into a slow gallop while Jericho followed suit a few lengths back. They eased through a furlong before they hit their mark - both riders urged the horses on, asking them for a brisk pace. The colts were eager and willing, flying around the turn with great, surging strides. Normally they let the horses cruise at a pace like that, but as per Cole's orders, they asked for more. Tigris got Jericho going first, pushing his hands along his neck and sitting low over his withers. The colt took up the push, lengthening his strides and puffing breath from great, flared nostrils. When he was almost even with Nate, Hal gave a whoop and got her colt moving as well. The two horses positively blistered through the last furlong, neck on neck and driving forward as they flew by the wire together. The jockeyed galloped them out strongly, and by the time they pulled up both horses had worked up a good sweat. Kai jogged over, waiting for a nod from Tigris before he gave Jericho a good scratch on his neck. The colt lowered his head wearily, lipping at the boy's shoulder before Tigris hopped off and the two steaming horses were handed off to be walked out. "Perfect," Cole said happily, tapping his clipboard with his pen. The colts were ready - they just had to bring their A game next time around.
Juggernauts
Shenanigans & Tigris Greenfire
Mourning Passion & Savita Tusaint
Sweet Inferno & Halexia Suhail
Mourning Passion & Savita Tusaint
Sweet Inferno & Halexia Suhail
Three black horses, all at the top of their games, and all sitting on a stellar season - they were to become the juggernauts of Valkyrie Stables. Kailin was asked to stay back around these ones, as each of them was unlikely to be... well, conscious, of something smaller than them.
Shenanigans was a special sort of horse. Hard to figure out, harder to control... but toward the end of the year, everything had clicked. She and Tigris had hit perfect synchronicity, blazing over the dirt to take race after race. It had culminated in the best climax imaginable - Shanna had taken the BC Juvenile Fillies in late-closing, runaway fashion against eventual two-year-old filly-of-the-year Nirvana and good filly Meritorious. It wasn't a fluke, not with three HOTY wins in her last three races - she was out for blood, and Tigris was going to take her to the top. The tall black filly was waiting with Minske when Tigris dismounted Jericho, looking as docile and calm as a kitten. Both men knew better, though - she could flip without warning, channeling her hellion of a sire and leaving destruction in her wake. They'd pretty much gotten her triggers down to a science, though, so her episodes were few and far between. They were still cautious, of course, but this Shanna was a lot more lovable and a lot more effective, so things felt like they were definitely looking up. Kailin was watching intently from a safe distance while Tigris adjusted the filly's girth, eyes wide and sparkling with unasked questions. Tigris let out a snort of laughter, then said, "I've never known you to hold back before, Kai. If you've got something to say, say it." The boy pulled a face, but did indeed open up. "She's the one that broke your arm two years ago, right? Aren't you afraid of her?"
"So kind of you to bring that up," Tigris said with a wince, but then he shook his head. "Not afraid. Things happen, and you can be cautious, but if you're afraid then you'd better find yourself something else to do. They can feel fear, and they'll never run to their potential with a scared rider on."
"What he means to say is he's too stupid to feel fear like a normal person, so he carries on." Minske's voice was lilting, and the filly started bobbing her head as if to agree. It gave the desired effect - Kai was laughing and Tigris took on a brooding, sulky look. "Yeah yeah, funny. Go help Hal with Sweetie, I don't need you." Minske was grinning as he handed Shanna's lead to Cole and walked over to where Hal had brought the new lease from Stride of Perfection. When another lease from them had popped up, Cole had jumped on it without question - they'd done well with Sugar Jayde during the last lease, and SOPS blood flowed through some of their best horses. Sweet Inferno was a lot like Ode To Glory in many respects - just out of the spotlight but ready to make some amazing things happen once out of the shadow of incredibly competitive stablemates. Sweetie really was a champion in her own right already, having taken the Belmont Stakes as a three year old and the Donn Handicap among others at the end of the previous year. If that wasn't enough, she'd taken second in the Marathon during BC week - she had enormous potential, and she wasn't ready to settle just yet. The mare was alert and a little fidgety, but not nearly as much as when she'd first gotten there. She wasn't a nervous sort, but she was a five-year-old horse, and Cole had opted to let her acclimate to her new home for the first three weeks of the year. Now, though, it was time to see what she could do. Minske got Hal on so she could go work off some of the mare's antsiness and he could help Savita, who was waiting with the last of the black trio.
Mourning Passion was likely the farm's greatest success story to date. While his success couldn't be totally attributed to them, not with the way Intrepid had stepped up and kept the colt on the right track while the farm was on hiatus, he was a prime example of the way Cole worked. Taking a colt from one win to eleven in a season wasn't an easy feat, and though they'd opted to bypass the Classic last year, they fully expected him to be a top contender over dirt this season. The cold, calculating manner that Mourn displayed was always unsettling, but everyone had come to truly respect it. Savita still had to admit a bit of fear when dealing with the animal, but contrary to Tigris' earlier statement, it only seemed to drive his competitive spirit. He enjoyed dominating in any way possible, and having his jockey exhibit a healthy amount of caution suited him just fine. He kept an eye on Minske while he threw Savita on, and the man couldn't help but feel something of a chill - Mourn was dangerous, even if he rarely acted on it. Minske stepped back and went back to where Kai waited, watching with the boy while the three horses moved in a loose group to warm up. They were all fairly behaved - Sweetie was the most eager, tossing her head now and then, but even she wasn't actually being bad. They rarely faulted the horses enthusiasm - if they weren't having fun running, then odds were they'd stop performing well.
When they were warmed up, Sweetie took the lead to the rail and Shanna and Mourn settled just behind. The mare was cool as ice on the front, not worried at all by the horses right on her heels. They were taking the work five furlongs, long enough to give them a test at speed. They kept the pace relatively brisk as they went into the turn. Shanna made her move first, slowly and carefully moving up the outside lane just next to Sweetie. The mare didn't react yet, still waiting for her rider's cue. Shanna hovered right beside the mare, and then they were out of the turn. Sweetie swung a little wide, pushing Shanna further out, and that was all the hole Savita and Mourn needed. She urged him on and he shot the gap like the pro he was, charging up the rail and into the lead before the other two could react. The females couldn't be counted out, though - Hal gave Sweetie her head and the mare gave furious chase, Shanna right there with her. The stallion had the speed and edge he needed, though, and Sweetie just needed more time - she and the filly were gaining with great strides as they went by the wire, passing up the stallion a few lengths past. In Mourn's defense, he knew the 'race' was over by Savita's body language. As soon as she shifted her weight back from over his withers, he eased off the gas, no longer caring if they passed in front. Despite that, they all galloped out strongly, obviously thriving on the competitive energy in the air.
Shenanigans was a special sort of horse. Hard to figure out, harder to control... but toward the end of the year, everything had clicked. She and Tigris had hit perfect synchronicity, blazing over the dirt to take race after race. It had culminated in the best climax imaginable - Shanna had taken the BC Juvenile Fillies in late-closing, runaway fashion against eventual two-year-old filly-of-the-year Nirvana and good filly Meritorious. It wasn't a fluke, not with three HOTY wins in her last three races - she was out for blood, and Tigris was going to take her to the top. The tall black filly was waiting with Minske when Tigris dismounted Jericho, looking as docile and calm as a kitten. Both men knew better, though - she could flip without warning, channeling her hellion of a sire and leaving destruction in her wake. They'd pretty much gotten her triggers down to a science, though, so her episodes were few and far between. They were still cautious, of course, but this Shanna was a lot more lovable and a lot more effective, so things felt like they were definitely looking up. Kailin was watching intently from a safe distance while Tigris adjusted the filly's girth, eyes wide and sparkling with unasked questions. Tigris let out a snort of laughter, then said, "I've never known you to hold back before, Kai. If you've got something to say, say it." The boy pulled a face, but did indeed open up. "She's the one that broke your arm two years ago, right? Aren't you afraid of her?"
"So kind of you to bring that up," Tigris said with a wince, but then he shook his head. "Not afraid. Things happen, and you can be cautious, but if you're afraid then you'd better find yourself something else to do. They can feel fear, and they'll never run to their potential with a scared rider on."
"What he means to say is he's too stupid to feel fear like a normal person, so he carries on." Minske's voice was lilting, and the filly started bobbing her head as if to agree. It gave the desired effect - Kai was laughing and Tigris took on a brooding, sulky look. "Yeah yeah, funny. Go help Hal with Sweetie, I don't need you." Minske was grinning as he handed Shanna's lead to Cole and walked over to where Hal had brought the new lease from Stride of Perfection. When another lease from them had popped up, Cole had jumped on it without question - they'd done well with Sugar Jayde during the last lease, and SOPS blood flowed through some of their best horses. Sweet Inferno was a lot like Ode To Glory in many respects - just out of the spotlight but ready to make some amazing things happen once out of the shadow of incredibly competitive stablemates. Sweetie really was a champion in her own right already, having taken the Belmont Stakes as a three year old and the Donn Handicap among others at the end of the previous year. If that wasn't enough, she'd taken second in the Marathon during BC week - she had enormous potential, and she wasn't ready to settle just yet. The mare was alert and a little fidgety, but not nearly as much as when she'd first gotten there. She wasn't a nervous sort, but she was a five-year-old horse, and Cole had opted to let her acclimate to her new home for the first three weeks of the year. Now, though, it was time to see what she could do. Minske got Hal on so she could go work off some of the mare's antsiness and he could help Savita, who was waiting with the last of the black trio.
Mourning Passion was likely the farm's greatest success story to date. While his success couldn't be totally attributed to them, not with the way Intrepid had stepped up and kept the colt on the right track while the farm was on hiatus, he was a prime example of the way Cole worked. Taking a colt from one win to eleven in a season wasn't an easy feat, and though they'd opted to bypass the Classic last year, they fully expected him to be a top contender over dirt this season. The cold, calculating manner that Mourn displayed was always unsettling, but everyone had come to truly respect it. Savita still had to admit a bit of fear when dealing with the animal, but contrary to Tigris' earlier statement, it only seemed to drive his competitive spirit. He enjoyed dominating in any way possible, and having his jockey exhibit a healthy amount of caution suited him just fine. He kept an eye on Minske while he threw Savita on, and the man couldn't help but feel something of a chill - Mourn was dangerous, even if he rarely acted on it. Minske stepped back and went back to where Kai waited, watching with the boy while the three horses moved in a loose group to warm up. They were all fairly behaved - Sweetie was the most eager, tossing her head now and then, but even she wasn't actually being bad. They rarely faulted the horses enthusiasm - if they weren't having fun running, then odds were they'd stop performing well.
When they were warmed up, Sweetie took the lead to the rail and Shanna and Mourn settled just behind. The mare was cool as ice on the front, not worried at all by the horses right on her heels. They were taking the work five furlongs, long enough to give them a test at speed. They kept the pace relatively brisk as they went into the turn. Shanna made her move first, slowly and carefully moving up the outside lane just next to Sweetie. The mare didn't react yet, still waiting for her rider's cue. Shanna hovered right beside the mare, and then they were out of the turn. Sweetie swung a little wide, pushing Shanna further out, and that was all the hole Savita and Mourn needed. She urged him on and he shot the gap like the pro he was, charging up the rail and into the lead before the other two could react. The females couldn't be counted out, though - Hal gave Sweetie her head and the mare gave furious chase, Shanna right there with her. The stallion had the speed and edge he needed, though, and Sweetie just needed more time - she and the filly were gaining with great strides as they went by the wire, passing up the stallion a few lengths past. In Mourn's defense, he knew the 'race' was over by Savita's body language. As soon as she shifted her weight back from over his withers, he eased off the gas, no longer caring if they passed in front. Despite that, they all galloped out strongly, obviously thriving on the competitive energy in the air.
Dragon Wave
Wyvern & Halexia Suhail
Luminous Wave & Desmond Drake
Luminous Wave & Desmond Drake
While Valkyrie normally didn't put more works into their young horses for subsequent races, this year Cole was determined to give them all the help they could get to help them rise in the ranks of such a tough crop. He was especially focusing on the animals that had what Cole described as a 'borderline' result - a third place finish, which could either turn upward or downward depending on their next start. Both Luminous Wave and Wyvern had finished third, so Cole was going to give them all the help he could. For Wyvern, that meant taking him off the turf, where he'd made his first start, and placing him firmly on the dirt. They thought they'd test it, just to see if he'd take off, but despite Prideful Limits on his dam's side his pedigree really did lean toward dirt. Cole wasn't really one to make plans too far into the future, given that it was impossible to tell how a horse was going to do from year to year, but Wyvern would be their tentative triple crown horse for the following year. If they could get him a solid base on dirt, he could be a real competitor. Lumi was versatile as well, and she could hit either sprinter series - however, they weren't confining her to a surface just yet. They'd see how she ran, and place her accordingly. She had a long time before she'd really have to show her talent, but they did want to get her built up as quickly as possible. She was a good filly, and every bit of experience helped.
The Shiver Me Timbers daughter was a hard one to gauge going into a race. She did poorly during works, playing around instead of focusing. It was possible to get her into a full-out drive with a lot of coaxing and encouragement, but even then it was nothing compared to her finishing race speed. Crowds and competitive energy brought out a whole new side to her, but as far as works went they just had to work with what they had. On the other hand, while Wyvern too was apt to play around, he could be brought to a focused frame of mind and asked for some real work. They were hoping that his attitude might rub off on Lumi, but it was pretty unlikely. Nothing much changed her bubbly, carefree attitude. There had been a small break between the works, and now Hal was walking back down in the company of Desmond, who was riding Lumi. The contract jockey might not be as die-hard, close-knit to Valkyrie as the others, but he was damned good and he really took the time to get to know the horses. He was an amiable guy as well, so everyone liked him. He was a diffusing element between riders who knew each other perhaps too well sometimes.
Hal jogged over to Wyvern, who was standing picturesque as always. She dodged his welcoming attempt at a bite, flicking his muzzle and rubbing his neck. "You spoil him," Jena said disapprovingly, but Hal didn't care. She was in love with the big, gorgeous colt, so she'd shower him with as much affection as she pleased. The colt seemed to return the sentiment, biting aside. He always perked up when the woman came around, and they were obviously already bonding. Desmond laughed as he was thrown onto the antsy Lumi, reining her youthful energy in with expert hands. "If she didn't spoil him, you'd be telling her she was neglecting him." Hal sighed dramatically, dodging a swat from the older woman and accepting Minske's leg up into the saddle. "I can't win. But you can, can't you you big bear." She'd switched to a croon at the end, rubbing both sides of Wyvern's neck as she leaned over him. He stretched out, enjoying the attention, but when he saw Lumi heading out to the track he switched to anxiety at being left behind. "Alright, off we go." Hal gathered the reins and allowed him to follow, trotting after the filly with hurried strides. They were going three furlongs to accommodate Lumi's sprinter tendencies as well as enhance Wyvern's own kick. Plus, neither horse was good at focusing for very long with those baby brains of theirs.
They warmed up quickly and efficiently, though both juveniles threw in bucks here and there when they were feeling frisky. Their riders didn't reprimand them, recognizing that it wasn't ill-will that spurred their actions. They were just big kids having fun, and nobody wanted to quash that spirit. Eventually they got the bays into a gallop, Wyvern's a lot more even than Lumi's as she fiddled with the bit and tossed her head to entertain herself. They swung into the turn before they asked the horses to pick up the pace. Lumi preferred to be in the front, so the pace was already doomed to be slower than a race. Desmond worked on her though, urging her on and asking for a bit more every couple of strides. She gave it, though it took constant reminding to keep her up to speed. Wyvern much preferred a closer's route, but since the breeze was so short, they only put him a length behind - it took him awhile to get up to speed, and in a breeze this short he couldn't do much from too far behind. Hal let him start chasing Lumi immediately, inching up along the rail to draw even with the filly. Lumi noticed him and sped up just a little more, but it was obvious her heart wasn't in it. She knew this wasn't the real deal, so she didn't respond in nearly the same way. Given that, Wyvern was able to keep gaining bit by bit despite her being a sprinter and crossed the wire with a head in front. Desmond hadn't bothered pushing the filly once they'd gotten to a relatively acceptable pace - he knew she had the speed and the drive when it really mattered. He did keep her strong for the gallop-out, though, and she dug up a bit of competitive fire when Wyvern stayed just ahead of her the whole time, prompting her to pass him up before they were pulled up. The juveniles were still looking very fresh when they were brought to the gap, as was to be expected of a relatively easy work. If nothing else, they'd gotten the bit of a nudge they needed heading into their next starts.
The Shiver Me Timbers daughter was a hard one to gauge going into a race. She did poorly during works, playing around instead of focusing. It was possible to get her into a full-out drive with a lot of coaxing and encouragement, but even then it was nothing compared to her finishing race speed. Crowds and competitive energy brought out a whole new side to her, but as far as works went they just had to work with what they had. On the other hand, while Wyvern too was apt to play around, he could be brought to a focused frame of mind and asked for some real work. They were hoping that his attitude might rub off on Lumi, but it was pretty unlikely. Nothing much changed her bubbly, carefree attitude. There had been a small break between the works, and now Hal was walking back down in the company of Desmond, who was riding Lumi. The contract jockey might not be as die-hard, close-knit to Valkyrie as the others, but he was damned good and he really took the time to get to know the horses. He was an amiable guy as well, so everyone liked him. He was a diffusing element between riders who knew each other perhaps too well sometimes.
Hal jogged over to Wyvern, who was standing picturesque as always. She dodged his welcoming attempt at a bite, flicking his muzzle and rubbing his neck. "You spoil him," Jena said disapprovingly, but Hal didn't care. She was in love with the big, gorgeous colt, so she'd shower him with as much affection as she pleased. The colt seemed to return the sentiment, biting aside. He always perked up when the woman came around, and they were obviously already bonding. Desmond laughed as he was thrown onto the antsy Lumi, reining her youthful energy in with expert hands. "If she didn't spoil him, you'd be telling her she was neglecting him." Hal sighed dramatically, dodging a swat from the older woman and accepting Minske's leg up into the saddle. "I can't win. But you can, can't you you big bear." She'd switched to a croon at the end, rubbing both sides of Wyvern's neck as she leaned over him. He stretched out, enjoying the attention, but when he saw Lumi heading out to the track he switched to anxiety at being left behind. "Alright, off we go." Hal gathered the reins and allowed him to follow, trotting after the filly with hurried strides. They were going three furlongs to accommodate Lumi's sprinter tendencies as well as enhance Wyvern's own kick. Plus, neither horse was good at focusing for very long with those baby brains of theirs.
They warmed up quickly and efficiently, though both juveniles threw in bucks here and there when they were feeling frisky. Their riders didn't reprimand them, recognizing that it wasn't ill-will that spurred their actions. They were just big kids having fun, and nobody wanted to quash that spirit. Eventually they got the bays into a gallop, Wyvern's a lot more even than Lumi's as she fiddled with the bit and tossed her head to entertain herself. They swung into the turn before they asked the horses to pick up the pace. Lumi preferred to be in the front, so the pace was already doomed to be slower than a race. Desmond worked on her though, urging her on and asking for a bit more every couple of strides. She gave it, though it took constant reminding to keep her up to speed. Wyvern much preferred a closer's route, but since the breeze was so short, they only put him a length behind - it took him awhile to get up to speed, and in a breeze this short he couldn't do much from too far behind. Hal let him start chasing Lumi immediately, inching up along the rail to draw even with the filly. Lumi noticed him and sped up just a little more, but it was obvious her heart wasn't in it. She knew this wasn't the real deal, so she didn't respond in nearly the same way. Given that, Wyvern was able to keep gaining bit by bit despite her being a sprinter and crossed the wire with a head in front. Desmond hadn't bothered pushing the filly once they'd gotten to a relatively acceptable pace - he knew she had the speed and the drive when it really mattered. He did keep her strong for the gallop-out, though, and she dug up a bit of competitive fire when Wyvern stayed just ahead of her the whole time, prompting her to pass him up before they were pulled up. The juveniles were still looking very fresh when they were brought to the gap, as was to be expected of a relatively easy work. If nothing else, they'd gotten the bit of a nudge they needed heading into their next starts.
Con's Son
Baciami & Halexia Suhail
While the work between Luminous Wave and Wyvern was underway, Minske took Kailin back up to the barns and had the boy stand outside of the stall while Minske prepared Baciami for his solo run. The big bay was a little anxious, which was pretty normal when he knew some running was coming - he seemed to enjoy the works. Minske didn't reprimand him - the colt wasn't really being bad, and Minske was able to get him to stand still long enough to saddle him. He was about to bridle him when idea came to him. "Kail, look through the bars for a second." There was a rustling noise, and the russet-haired head popped up outside the stall. "Do you still have those carrots?" Kai nodded, pulling one out of his pocket and holding it up where Baciami could see. The colt locked on immediately, ears pressed forward and neck immediately stretching in that direction. Minske held him back with a hand on his chest for now, though. "Now put your finger up like this-" he demonstrated a hook-like gesture "and wiggle it at him." Kai looked a little confused but did as he was told. He laughed in surprise when Ami lifted his forelip and bared his teeth, bobbing his head up and down at the same time. Minske smiled as he let the colt go forward, letting Kai reward the bay with his treat. "Where did he learn how to do that?" Kai asked excitedly, and Minske grinned sheepishly. "Your uncle and I were messing around, and Ami picked up the trick really easy. So there, you know how to get him to smile." Minske knew he was going to get an earful from Tigris later - the other man didn't really like it known that he had a side to him that liked to teach the yearlings silly tricks.
Minske gave the colt time to finish of the carrot before bridling him and then they made their way back down to the track. Since Baciami was the type to walk all over someone who wasn't confident, Kai wasn't helping lead him - it was safer that way. Ami got more and more excited and headstrong as they got closer to the track, but both Minske's firm handling and the chain over the colt's nose kept him in check. While it was a pain on the ground, his confidence and aggression served him very well on the track. The son of Cute Italian had done relatively well for himself - while he hadn't had the stellar year that some juveniles had, he had successfully reached grade four with one HOTY win under his belt. He'd racked up fifteen races in his juvenile season, and raced once week two - after pulling in a third-place finish, they were looking to help him rise in placing. If he could put in a good showing, Baciami would be pointed on the triple crown trail. It might be a longshot sell, but... well, they were determined. And he definitely had the talent and the pedigree to be a big factor this year.
Hal met them at the gap, and Minske held the dancing colt while Tigris tossed Hal on board. She didn't waste any time, slipping her feet into the stirrups while Ami was already walking out onto the dirt. She moved easily, seeming a part of the horse - there was never a moment of imbalance or hesitation. It was cliche to say it was like she was born in the saddle, but that's how Minske felt when he watched her ride. She was as reckless and aggressive in a race as the horses she rode - and more often than not, it payed off. She took him through his paces, and Minske continued to point things out to Kai - different points of riding form, controlling the horse, and the reason for warming up. Kai soaked it all in, which was funny for a kid that struggled to care about school at all. He could take this information in so easily. They watched as Hal took the fractious but controlled colt into a canter, holding him back when he tried to surge forward. It made his strides choppy and quick, but he was definitely getting the exercise he needed.
When she deemed both his attitude and rate of warmth ready, Hal moved Baciami to the rail and allowed him into a gallop. The colt started strongly, moving right into the planned five-furlongs. His strides were reaching and surging, and Minske couldn't help but see the raw power exhibited by his haunches as he accelerated. When he got to speed he smoothed out, mouthing at the bit as Hal kept him from sprinting off too early. He was obviously eager to go even faster, but he minded the hold and kept his pace moderate through the first three furlongs. As he generally ran on the front, Hal let him start gaining more speed in the second to last furlong as he would in a race, accelerating again against imaginary pursuers. It wasn't until the last furlong that she really let him go, and he kicked into that finishing gear. He stretched out fully, absolutely flying toward the wire with Hal sitting chilly on his back, barely moving and definitely not asking him for more. He just gave it willingly, happy to run to his heart's content. The real question ended up being this: If he was willing to run like this in-hand, just how much could he give when urged?
Minske gave the colt time to finish of the carrot before bridling him and then they made their way back down to the track. Since Baciami was the type to walk all over someone who wasn't confident, Kai wasn't helping lead him - it was safer that way. Ami got more and more excited and headstrong as they got closer to the track, but both Minske's firm handling and the chain over the colt's nose kept him in check. While it was a pain on the ground, his confidence and aggression served him very well on the track. The son of Cute Italian had done relatively well for himself - while he hadn't had the stellar year that some juveniles had, he had successfully reached grade four with one HOTY win under his belt. He'd racked up fifteen races in his juvenile season, and raced once week two - after pulling in a third-place finish, they were looking to help him rise in placing. If he could put in a good showing, Baciami would be pointed on the triple crown trail. It might be a longshot sell, but... well, they were determined. And he definitely had the talent and the pedigree to be a big factor this year.
Hal met them at the gap, and Minske held the dancing colt while Tigris tossed Hal on board. She didn't waste any time, slipping her feet into the stirrups while Ami was already walking out onto the dirt. She moved easily, seeming a part of the horse - there was never a moment of imbalance or hesitation. It was cliche to say it was like she was born in the saddle, but that's how Minske felt when he watched her ride. She was as reckless and aggressive in a race as the horses she rode - and more often than not, it payed off. She took him through his paces, and Minske continued to point things out to Kai - different points of riding form, controlling the horse, and the reason for warming up. Kai soaked it all in, which was funny for a kid that struggled to care about school at all. He could take this information in so easily. They watched as Hal took the fractious but controlled colt into a canter, holding him back when he tried to surge forward. It made his strides choppy and quick, but he was definitely getting the exercise he needed.
When she deemed both his attitude and rate of warmth ready, Hal moved Baciami to the rail and allowed him into a gallop. The colt started strongly, moving right into the planned five-furlongs. His strides were reaching and surging, and Minske couldn't help but see the raw power exhibited by his haunches as he accelerated. When he got to speed he smoothed out, mouthing at the bit as Hal kept him from sprinting off too early. He was obviously eager to go even faster, but he minded the hold and kept his pace moderate through the first three furlongs. As he generally ran on the front, Hal let him start gaining more speed in the second to last furlong as he would in a race, accelerating again against imaginary pursuers. It wasn't until the last furlong that she really let him go, and he kicked into that finishing gear. He stretched out fully, absolutely flying toward the wire with Hal sitting chilly on his back, barely moving and definitely not asking him for more. He just gave it willingly, happy to run to his heart's content. The real question ended up being this: If he was willing to run like this in-hand, just how much could he give when urged?
Truth in Lies
Beautiful Liar & Desmond Drake
Everything was wrapped up, and the jockeys were headed back up to the barn to clean up when they spotted Desmond leading a pretty grey mare out of the barn. "What's up, Drake? A poorly-planned theft?" Hal's words were mischievous and light-hearted, and Desmond let out a snort. "Not quite, though she'd be a pretty easy one, wouldn't she? No fuss. Nah, I decided to get a quick run in on her before her next race." Hal snagged his shirt and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as the group passed. "Overachiever," she crooned, and Desmond waved her off, a light blush on his cheeks. The woman loved to tease, and everyone was fair game - the danger was in thinking you were special. Desmond turned his attention away and back to the path, leading the calm mare with a relaxed posture. Leah was a mare with a mentality far beyond her years - she had seen a lot, jumping around different farms, and by now she was an old hat. And unless she was in heat, she was pretty much as calm as a lesson horse before a work.
When they got down to the track, Desmond was surprised to see Cole still waiting. The older man gave a knowing smile at Desmond's expression. "I could tell you were getting nervous about her race." Desmond shook his head, but didn't bother denying it. After winning her first start of the year, Beautiful Liar was on the brink of grade one and every bit of preparation was critical. If Leah could hit the highest grade this early in the year, she might have a fantastic final season ahead of her. It was too early to think about it, really, but she could perhaps be a contender in the BC Filly and Mare Turf at the end of the year if she shaped up. "Yeah, maybe a little. But she's in her prime, I can feel it. I might need the help, but she probably doesn't at all." The daughter of Gorgeous George had been a strong competitor the last time she'd had a solid home, during her three-year-old year - she'd won eight of her fourteen races, showing she obviously was gutsy enough to go the distance when she was comfortable with a jockey. Now starting her fifth and final season, the mare was already starting to show potential brilliance, and Desmond couldn't help but think it was because there was a growing trust between them. And it might just be sentimentality, but he felt that every work brought them closer, and thus here he was to strengthen their bond before her coming race.
Cole gave Desmond a leg onto the quietly standing mare, though she began to get a little more antsy once he picked up the reins. "Easy, beauty," he said fondly, running a hand down the top of her grey mane as she walked off. The mare's head bobbed with her movement, strides eager but not headstrong. She had a focused and excited air around her, though perhaps not as much as she would if she was running in company. However, Desmond wanted her focusing on him this time around, not a competitor. He took her easily and relaxed through her paces, getting her to loosen her muscles and lengthen her stride as she got more comfortable. He was in no hurry, and she was patient. He took the time to really get her to listen to his cues, working her mind instead of just her body. Eventually, he rewarded her for her good behavior - he moved her into a gallop and took her to the rail, letting her go at whatever speed was comfortable. He wasn't looking to push her, and there was no set distance involved. However, the pace she chose was rather faster than he would have thought, and he crouched over her withers to accommodate. They started about midway down the backstretch, and as they went into the turn Desmond could feel the raw energy pouring off of the grey. However, true to form, she was waiting - waiting for him to cue her, as he always did, into making her move. She seemed so willing and attentive that he threw his previous plan to the wind. He leaned in, urging her on with his voice and hands. That cue was all she needed - Leah took off, pale hooves tearing up the turf as she slung out of the turn and onto the stretch. He barely moved, after that, just letting the mare run under her own tremendous steam as she roared by the wire, determined and focused and not letting up in the least. He eased her a little, but allowed her to gallop out.
When he finally brought the grey back to the gap, she was lightly sheened with sweat but as quietly alert as ever, and Cole was smiling that knowing grin of him. Desmond couldn't help but smile back - this mare was a gem, and she was going to shine this season.
When they got down to the track, Desmond was surprised to see Cole still waiting. The older man gave a knowing smile at Desmond's expression. "I could tell you were getting nervous about her race." Desmond shook his head, but didn't bother denying it. After winning her first start of the year, Beautiful Liar was on the brink of grade one and every bit of preparation was critical. If Leah could hit the highest grade this early in the year, she might have a fantastic final season ahead of her. It was too early to think about it, really, but she could perhaps be a contender in the BC Filly and Mare Turf at the end of the year if she shaped up. "Yeah, maybe a little. But she's in her prime, I can feel it. I might need the help, but she probably doesn't at all." The daughter of Gorgeous George had been a strong competitor the last time she'd had a solid home, during her three-year-old year - she'd won eight of her fourteen races, showing she obviously was gutsy enough to go the distance when she was comfortable with a jockey. Now starting her fifth and final season, the mare was already starting to show potential brilliance, and Desmond couldn't help but think it was because there was a growing trust between them. And it might just be sentimentality, but he felt that every work brought them closer, and thus here he was to strengthen their bond before her coming race.
Cole gave Desmond a leg onto the quietly standing mare, though she began to get a little more antsy once he picked up the reins. "Easy, beauty," he said fondly, running a hand down the top of her grey mane as she walked off. The mare's head bobbed with her movement, strides eager but not headstrong. She had a focused and excited air around her, though perhaps not as much as she would if she was running in company. However, Desmond wanted her focusing on him this time around, not a competitor. He took her easily and relaxed through her paces, getting her to loosen her muscles and lengthen her stride as she got more comfortable. He was in no hurry, and she was patient. He took the time to really get her to listen to his cues, working her mind instead of just her body. Eventually, he rewarded her for her good behavior - he moved her into a gallop and took her to the rail, letting her go at whatever speed was comfortable. He wasn't looking to push her, and there was no set distance involved. However, the pace she chose was rather faster than he would have thought, and he crouched over her withers to accommodate. They started about midway down the backstretch, and as they went into the turn Desmond could feel the raw energy pouring off of the grey. However, true to form, she was waiting - waiting for him to cue her, as he always did, into making her move. She seemed so willing and attentive that he threw his previous plan to the wind. He leaned in, urging her on with his voice and hands. That cue was all she needed - Leah took off, pale hooves tearing up the turf as she slung out of the turn and onto the stretch. He barely moved, after that, just letting the mare run under her own tremendous steam as she roared by the wire, determined and focused and not letting up in the least. He eased her a little, but allowed her to gallop out.
When he finally brought the grey back to the gap, she was lightly sheened with sweat but as quietly alert as ever, and Cole was smiling that knowing grin of him. Desmond couldn't help but smile back - this mare was a gem, and she was going to shine this season.
Starbound
Amarillo Sky & Halexia Suhail
The sun had set by the time Hal led the tall, aggressive stallion out of the barn. The sky was partially lit by the lights from the practice track, the air around them quiet except for the sounds of horses shuffling around sleepily. Rillo was a little more subdued than normal, which was Hal's goal in bringing him out at night for this work - perhaps if she could catch him while he was in a thinking mood, she could connect with him even more than she already had. Not that the two of them had many issues. She got along far better with Rillo than anyone else had ever managed to at Valkyrie, and she was the only one that could calm his Augusto-aggressive blood enough to get results out of him. He was looking around alertly, but seemed to actually be calmed by the darkness around him rather than scared by it. Typical, she supposed. He never was totally horse-minded - too much calculation going on up there. With her hands firm but relaxed on the lead, Rillo had his neck arched but didn't pull against her, eyes as wild and wild as ever regardless of his current mood. She was sure that if some animal attacked them right now, Rillo would fight rather than run, taking his aggression out on it since he couldn't - or wouldn't - take it out on her.
Minske was waiting at the track, pale hair peeking out from under a hat and hands gloved against the chilly air. Rillo immediately puffed up when he saw the man, instantly acting a little more aggressive and prancing in place against the pressure of her lead. "Settle, big man. He's no threat to you." Her voice when she spoke to the tough stallions was always easygoing and playful, regardless of the situation at hand, and they responded too it amazingly well. He settled a little, but still eyed Minske with distrust, ears pinning when the man stepped up. Hal put a hand over his nose, pushing firmly when he looked ready to lash out. "If you want to go for a run, you've gotta put up with him for a second." She flashed a smile at Minske, primly handing over the lead. Minske wasn't timid, but he was cautious, holding the stallion's far rein taught over his neck to keep him from suddenly swinging around and taking a chunk out of him. He legged Hal up quickly with one arm, backing away with the lead as soon as Hal had control of the reins. Rillo immediately bowed his neck, powerful haunches lunging against the pressure on the bit, eager to run even now. But Hal refused to yield, creating a wall with the bit until he relaxed, stretching out his trot and relaxing his neck. When he began mouthing the bit instead of pushing against it, she let him into a canter, then went through the same thing again. While she didn't really mind his forward nature, she also needed him to respect her cues. If she let him go for too long or two often, he might start misbehaving for even her.
When she felt he was in a listening mood, he got him on the rail. This time, when he started surging against the bit, she let him power into a gallop, keeping him just off of 'blistering' in pace. He had a lot of speed, though, and she reveled in his power. He thundered into the turn, lights overhead harshly illuminating the night and the track before them. Rillo showed no fear at the surrounding shadows. Instead, he seemed to mock them, defy them, with his confident strides. Not nature, not competitor, not anything would crush his spirit. She let him loose for the last furlong, and he took every inch without urging, running as if he had pursuers breathing down his neck. She sat chilly, flashing Minske a triumphant smile as they rocketed past, Rillo pushing himself with every stride. When she went to ease him around the far turn, he fought her at first, determined to charge on. However, she insisted, and finally the stallion relented. When he dropped down to a walk Hal dropped the reins and rubbed both sides of his neck affectionately. He tossed his head once, but settled under both her touch and his own weariness. However, tired as he might be, he still worked up pinned ears and bared teeth for Minske when she walked up. "Apparently you can't work the nastiness out of him," Minske commented mildly, and Hal laughed. "I wouldn't want to," she replied, and couldn't help but thinking he was definitely ready for a big showing in the Clark.
Minske was waiting at the track, pale hair peeking out from under a hat and hands gloved against the chilly air. Rillo immediately puffed up when he saw the man, instantly acting a little more aggressive and prancing in place against the pressure of her lead. "Settle, big man. He's no threat to you." Her voice when she spoke to the tough stallions was always easygoing and playful, regardless of the situation at hand, and they responded too it amazingly well. He settled a little, but still eyed Minske with distrust, ears pinning when the man stepped up. Hal put a hand over his nose, pushing firmly when he looked ready to lash out. "If you want to go for a run, you've gotta put up with him for a second." She flashed a smile at Minske, primly handing over the lead. Minske wasn't timid, but he was cautious, holding the stallion's far rein taught over his neck to keep him from suddenly swinging around and taking a chunk out of him. He legged Hal up quickly with one arm, backing away with the lead as soon as Hal had control of the reins. Rillo immediately bowed his neck, powerful haunches lunging against the pressure on the bit, eager to run even now. But Hal refused to yield, creating a wall with the bit until he relaxed, stretching out his trot and relaxing his neck. When he began mouthing the bit instead of pushing against it, she let him into a canter, then went through the same thing again. While she didn't really mind his forward nature, she also needed him to respect her cues. If she let him go for too long or two often, he might start misbehaving for even her.
When she felt he was in a listening mood, he got him on the rail. This time, when he started surging against the bit, she let him power into a gallop, keeping him just off of 'blistering' in pace. He had a lot of speed, though, and she reveled in his power. He thundered into the turn, lights overhead harshly illuminating the night and the track before them. Rillo showed no fear at the surrounding shadows. Instead, he seemed to mock them, defy them, with his confident strides. Not nature, not competitor, not anything would crush his spirit. She let him loose for the last furlong, and he took every inch without urging, running as if he had pursuers breathing down his neck. She sat chilly, flashing Minske a triumphant smile as they rocketed past, Rillo pushing himself with every stride. When she went to ease him around the far turn, he fought her at first, determined to charge on. However, she insisted, and finally the stallion relented. When he dropped down to a walk Hal dropped the reins and rubbed both sides of his neck affectionately. He tossed his head once, but settled under both her touch and his own weariness. However, tired as he might be, he still worked up pinned ears and bared teeth for Minske when she walked up. "Apparently you can't work the nastiness out of him," Minske commented mildly, and Hal laughed. "I wouldn't want to," she replied, and couldn't help but thinking he was definitely ready for a big showing in the Clark.