The Big Leagues.
Shenanigans & Tigris Greenfire
Ode To Glory & Halexia Suhail
Ode To Glory & Halexia Suhail
Hal smiled contentedly at Ode as she finished saddling him, hand smoothing over the exercise saddle and blanket before settling on his withers. The stallion turned his head, dark eyes regarding her with both curiosity and perhaps a bit of impatience. He lifted one hoof, striking it against the floor. Hal hummed, leaning in close to him and pressing her free hand against his chest. "That's bad manners," she said lightly, stroking down his neck. The grey flicked his ears toward her voice, but didn't seem entirely convinced. He blew out his nose, sidestepping away from her. "Yes, alright. Let's go, shy boy." Untying his lead, the woman led him from the stallion barn, Ode walking docilely beside her. Someday he'd be a stud, and walks from the barn would be a lot more of a handful, but for now he seemed perfectly content in his naive state, simply happy to be going to the track. Movement caught her eye, and Hal looked over to see Tigris leading the filly Shenanigans from her barn at the same time - she waved, pausing while he caught up. Ode looked at the tall black filly curiously, reaching out his nose toward her... just to have the filly squeal and skitter sideways, body held in a prancing, flouncy manner. Hal just looked amused while Tigris got the filly under control. "She's in heat," he said through gritted teeth, and Hal grinned knowingly. "Ah, yes, and I have a big strong man here so she's playing hard-to-get. Very well, we'll go first." Ode seemed a little reluctant to get moving, head craned back to keep watching Shanna, but Hal urged him more firmly and he went. While he might be interested in whatever his hormones had to offer, the track offered something regular and exciting enough for him to turn his attention.
Without further mishap, they made it to the track. Hal had, of course, kept up a constant string of inappropriate chatter specifically to make Tigris more and more uncomfortable. The young man was faintly red-faced and wholly irritated by the time they got there, but he wasn't going to comment on it as long as Hal stopped. He'd known the woman long enough to know that the more he reacted, the more egged on she was. He couldn't stop his reactions completely, but he could at least limit his voluntary response. Instead he turned to focus on Shanna, double-checking her girth. The filly was lean and warm under his hands despite the chill in the air, and he let his fingers trace fondly through the silky strands of her mane. She was so much more mature now than she'd been at the beginning of the year. Back then, she had had trouble figuring out her legs and getting her extensive frame moving. Now though, lean muscle had filled in so many gaps and she stood a filly at nearly three years of age. She was so strong, and he just knew her height would be a blessing, no a hindrance. Her stride went on for miles, and her stamina was impressive because of it. "What do you think, Cole? Can she hold up?" He was, of course, talking about her upcoming race in the AJC Sires Produce Stakes. Cole shrugged from his spot on the rail, looking up from his clipboard to regard the black filly. "She's got as good a chance as any, especially in a large field. Anything can happen. She's got some tough competition, though." Two of them were Valkyrie horses, one of which could possible be called the top turf juvenile colt at this point in the year. Take Flight had, well, done as his name suggested and rocketed through the ranks after leaving the farm. They couldn't really feel bitter about it, since he hadn't shown any sign of that success early in the year. Some horses flourished under different management, and he was simply another competitor now. As for Tigris, he knew the odds - he also knew his filly and what she was capable of. If anyone could pull an upset, it was Shenanigans.
Cole turned his attention to Ode, who was standing with an eager stillness while the people talked. "He's got way more talent than his record suggests, but he's in for a tough one. Hopefully it will serve well to get his feet wet for us, anyway." Hal, of course, thought every horse she rode was the best in the field, and that unwavering confidence had pulled miracles before. "He's a fighter. Even if he goes down, he won't go down easily." Tigris snorted. "The horses aren't you, Hal. They can't be amazing just because you say they are." The woman frowned, turning on the dark-haired man. Her eyes narrowed, and Tigris shifted uncomfortably. "He can, and he will," she said firmly, tone harboring no discussion. Cole stepped in, deciding to ignore them both and get the work going. It would be good experience for Shanna to race against the older horse, especially stepping into the higher competition. And Ode just needed a good, prepping work. The trainer threw Tigris up first, motioning for him to move out onto the track, then Hal. "Try not to beat him down too badly. That'll just hurt Shanna's confidence... maybe..." It was hard to tell how the filly would react to things, but he'd just as soon not blow her out before a big race, and Cole knew Hal could probably pull that kind of work out of Ode. Hal gave half a sigh, but she didn't agree one way or the other. 'We'll see," she said simply. After all, she wouldn't let an insult to one of her horses go completely unchallenged.
Hal caught Ode up to Shanna, letting the grey stretch and relax over the turf. He was much more alive now than before, trot slightly suspended and tail flagging behind him. He tugged thoughtfully at the bit, but didn't push when Hal kept him at the easy gait. Shanna seemed to be feeling the brisk air as well, tossing her head and and veering toward the rail, where she knew she was allowed to pick up the pace. Tigris managed to keep her toward the center of the track, pulling her around so Ode was to the inside. For all of her growing maturity, she was still a tricky filly to handle. After another minute they let them into a canter, and another minute or so later they opened them into a gallop. Shanna was suddenly rank, tossing her head and pulling hard at the bit in an attempt to charge out. Instead of fighting with her, Tigris made the decision to make the three-furlong workout four, and Hal angled Ode to the rail. Tigris stopped fighting the filly as he angled her as well, and she didn't need to be told twice. The filly bulleted forward, stretching out without any urging on Tigris' part. Once she was at a speed she wanted, she was a lot less fussy, and Ode pulled up with his nose about at her shoulder on the outside now. They were going at a very fast clip, but neither horse was struggling or inclined to slow, so the jockeys let them do as they pleased. They came around the turn and Ode started edging up on Shanna with no encouragement from Hal. As soon as they came eye-to-eye, there was no encouragement necessary - blind drive pushed them faster, further, stronger. About a furlong out, Ode started to inch away. It wasn't a resounding acceleration, but the grey's maturity and strength put him ahead by a head... a neck... a length as they went by the wire, Shanna fighting wildly the whole way. Frankly, Tigris was surprised as they drew even again to gallop out. While Ode perhaps hadn't been going as full-tilt as Shanna toward the end, the juvenile had more or less kept up with a stallion twice her age. And at that fast pace... he didn't want to get cocky, but he did feel a lightness settling over him. She could do it. There was a lot of other talent in the race, and all of them would be fighting tooth and nail as well, but he knew that Shenanigans had as good a chance as any to take the AJC if she ran her race.
Without further mishap, they made it to the track. Hal had, of course, kept up a constant string of inappropriate chatter specifically to make Tigris more and more uncomfortable. The young man was faintly red-faced and wholly irritated by the time they got there, but he wasn't going to comment on it as long as Hal stopped. He'd known the woman long enough to know that the more he reacted, the more egged on she was. He couldn't stop his reactions completely, but he could at least limit his voluntary response. Instead he turned to focus on Shanna, double-checking her girth. The filly was lean and warm under his hands despite the chill in the air, and he let his fingers trace fondly through the silky strands of her mane. She was so much more mature now than she'd been at the beginning of the year. Back then, she had had trouble figuring out her legs and getting her extensive frame moving. Now though, lean muscle had filled in so many gaps and she stood a filly at nearly three years of age. She was so strong, and he just knew her height would be a blessing, no a hindrance. Her stride went on for miles, and her stamina was impressive because of it. "What do you think, Cole? Can she hold up?" He was, of course, talking about her upcoming race in the AJC Sires Produce Stakes. Cole shrugged from his spot on the rail, looking up from his clipboard to regard the black filly. "She's got as good a chance as any, especially in a large field. Anything can happen. She's got some tough competition, though." Two of them were Valkyrie horses, one of which could possible be called the top turf juvenile colt at this point in the year. Take Flight had, well, done as his name suggested and rocketed through the ranks after leaving the farm. They couldn't really feel bitter about it, since he hadn't shown any sign of that success early in the year. Some horses flourished under different management, and he was simply another competitor now. As for Tigris, he knew the odds - he also knew his filly and what she was capable of. If anyone could pull an upset, it was Shenanigans.
Cole turned his attention to Ode, who was standing with an eager stillness while the people talked. "He's got way more talent than his record suggests, but he's in for a tough one. Hopefully it will serve well to get his feet wet for us, anyway." Hal, of course, thought every horse she rode was the best in the field, and that unwavering confidence had pulled miracles before. "He's a fighter. Even if he goes down, he won't go down easily." Tigris snorted. "The horses aren't you, Hal. They can't be amazing just because you say they are." The woman frowned, turning on the dark-haired man. Her eyes narrowed, and Tigris shifted uncomfortably. "He can, and he will," she said firmly, tone harboring no discussion. Cole stepped in, deciding to ignore them both and get the work going. It would be good experience for Shanna to race against the older horse, especially stepping into the higher competition. And Ode just needed a good, prepping work. The trainer threw Tigris up first, motioning for him to move out onto the track, then Hal. "Try not to beat him down too badly. That'll just hurt Shanna's confidence... maybe..." It was hard to tell how the filly would react to things, but he'd just as soon not blow her out before a big race, and Cole knew Hal could probably pull that kind of work out of Ode. Hal gave half a sigh, but she didn't agree one way or the other. 'We'll see," she said simply. After all, she wouldn't let an insult to one of her horses go completely unchallenged.
Hal caught Ode up to Shanna, letting the grey stretch and relax over the turf. He was much more alive now than before, trot slightly suspended and tail flagging behind him. He tugged thoughtfully at the bit, but didn't push when Hal kept him at the easy gait. Shanna seemed to be feeling the brisk air as well, tossing her head and and veering toward the rail, where she knew she was allowed to pick up the pace. Tigris managed to keep her toward the center of the track, pulling her around so Ode was to the inside. For all of her growing maturity, she was still a tricky filly to handle. After another minute they let them into a canter, and another minute or so later they opened them into a gallop. Shanna was suddenly rank, tossing her head and pulling hard at the bit in an attempt to charge out. Instead of fighting with her, Tigris made the decision to make the three-furlong workout four, and Hal angled Ode to the rail. Tigris stopped fighting the filly as he angled her as well, and she didn't need to be told twice. The filly bulleted forward, stretching out without any urging on Tigris' part. Once she was at a speed she wanted, she was a lot less fussy, and Ode pulled up with his nose about at her shoulder on the outside now. They were going at a very fast clip, but neither horse was struggling or inclined to slow, so the jockeys let them do as they pleased. They came around the turn and Ode started edging up on Shanna with no encouragement from Hal. As soon as they came eye-to-eye, there was no encouragement necessary - blind drive pushed them faster, further, stronger. About a furlong out, Ode started to inch away. It wasn't a resounding acceleration, but the grey's maturity and strength put him ahead by a head... a neck... a length as they went by the wire, Shanna fighting wildly the whole way. Frankly, Tigris was surprised as they drew even again to gallop out. While Ode perhaps hadn't been going as full-tilt as Shanna toward the end, the juvenile had more or less kept up with a stallion twice her age. And at that fast pace... he didn't want to get cocky, but he did feel a lightness settling over him. She could do it. There was a lot of other talent in the race, and all of them would be fighting tooth and nail as well, but he knew that Shenanigans had as good a chance as any to take the AJC if she ran her race.
True Test.
Mourning Passion & Savita Tusaint
Gallant Knight & Vivien Charron
Gallant Knight & Vivien Charron
Vivien was on hand to catch Shanna and Ode flying by the wire, and he whistled softly in appreciation when he glanced over at Cole's watch. "Not too shabby," the blonde said softly, and Cole was actually grinning. "That filly's a hellion, but she's got talent." Vivien didn't envy Tigris his assignment to the Bucephalus daughter - she could be incredibly dangerous if one made a wrong move. It was a lot of pressure, and Vivien was sure he'd be too stressed to handle it properly. Now, his ride for the day, Gallant Knight, was a horse he was happy to handle. He'd always liked the big stallion, loving the chestnut's boisterous personality and incredible fire when he ran. While he hadn't been mature enough as a three-year-old to do well on the track, Knight seemed to be wanting to make up for lost time. The stallion had done very well for the most part for the second part of this year, even pulling out a not-insignificant win in the Winter Cup. It seemed all he'd needed was a solid, steady race schedule throughout the year to really get him moving and focused. While he still wasn't quite at the level of the top dogs, he was closing in fast. He was definitely setting himself up for a killer five-year-old season.
And then there was Mourning Passion. He could pretty well be called the rising star of Valkyrie, a strong and solid colt that had gone from a one-win grade five at the beginning of the season to a strongly competitive grade two Kentucky Derby and Speedway Stakes winner. Not many horses could claim to be near as versatile as Mourn had proven to be. If he managed to take the Red Mile, he'd have a stake in the sprinter, classic, and miler worlds. He really was poised to end his season with incredible style, and while Vivien would not be the one riding him, he, like all of the staff, were eager to see him succeed. Vivien watched as the two horses were brought over the ridge and led down to the track, Knight led by the manager, Jena, and Mourn led by his rider, Savita. Savita always held that she had a healthy amount of fear for the dominating colt, though you couldn't see it in her now. The fiery girl was a nice compliment to Mourn's cold, calculating style, and they seemed to feed off each other barreling down the stretch. She wasn't particularly affectionate with him, neither was he to her - and yet they were partners, with a bond that was obvious and unbreakable. Mourn would likely do fine under another rider, but there wouldn't be the same level of grudging respect.
"Ready for the big one?" Vivien asked as Savita drew up, pulling Mourn's stirrup's down. She gave him an amused look, and accepted the help as he legged her up. "It's not the big one, but yes, I'm beyond ready." She gave the colt a quick pat on the neck, then gathered the reins and guided him onto the dirt. Vivien quickly mounted Knight, who was anxious to get going, and caught up to the shorter male. They went easily together, though Knight gave an inquisitive tug at the bit every now and then, obviously wanting to go faster but biding his time for now. Mourn was cool as could be, of course, which was very much his style. Knight's head was turned to the side in his eagerness as they moved them up into a canter, pushing more and more for speed. Vivien kept him calmly in hand, though, not allowing him to run off. He stood in the stirrups, easily balancing over the chestnut's surging form despite his rank excitement. "Sometimes I think he's more your type than mine," Vivien called over toward the cantering black. Savita, well-known for her hot temper, smiled ruefully. "Nah, I think I'll stay with my boy." The girl kissed at the colt, and Mourn easily lengthened into a gallop, Knight following quickly behind as Vivien let him chase. He kept Knight about a length behind - Mourn would likely face competition from the back, and Knight was more likely to be giving chase. They kept an eye out, then angled the horses to the rail at the 4/8 pole, letting them stretch out and pick up speed. They started straight into the turn, the chestnut not letting Mourn rest, though the black didn't seem panicked at all. He moved at his own pace, completely unurged by Savita.
As they rolled out of the turn, Savita kept Mourn chilly even as Knight started to bear down, pushing harder to try and catch the Derby winner. A furlong out, when Knight's nose was at Mourn's shoulder, Savita gave the colt one push to let him go and the rest was on him. Mourn kicked in with incredible turn of foot, charging forward and away from the pursuing stallion. He was a length ahead, a length and a half... two lengths and driving away at the wire, and Savita let him go, galloping him out strongly instead of easing him off. Knight gained again the further they got out, but that was to be expected of the router. Savita got the little chills she always got when riding her colt - she could feel the reserves he still had, and how easily he'd put away a horse that was not a totally unworthy competitor. While Knight wasn't at the level of competition he'd face in the Red Mile, the convincing way he'd worked told Savita that he was more than ready for his upcoming challenges.
And then there was Mourning Passion. He could pretty well be called the rising star of Valkyrie, a strong and solid colt that had gone from a one-win grade five at the beginning of the season to a strongly competitive grade two Kentucky Derby and Speedway Stakes winner. Not many horses could claim to be near as versatile as Mourn had proven to be. If he managed to take the Red Mile, he'd have a stake in the sprinter, classic, and miler worlds. He really was poised to end his season with incredible style, and while Vivien would not be the one riding him, he, like all of the staff, were eager to see him succeed. Vivien watched as the two horses were brought over the ridge and led down to the track, Knight led by the manager, Jena, and Mourn led by his rider, Savita. Savita always held that she had a healthy amount of fear for the dominating colt, though you couldn't see it in her now. The fiery girl was a nice compliment to Mourn's cold, calculating style, and they seemed to feed off each other barreling down the stretch. She wasn't particularly affectionate with him, neither was he to her - and yet they were partners, with a bond that was obvious and unbreakable. Mourn would likely do fine under another rider, but there wouldn't be the same level of grudging respect.
"Ready for the big one?" Vivien asked as Savita drew up, pulling Mourn's stirrup's down. She gave him an amused look, and accepted the help as he legged her up. "It's not the big one, but yes, I'm beyond ready." She gave the colt a quick pat on the neck, then gathered the reins and guided him onto the dirt. Vivien quickly mounted Knight, who was anxious to get going, and caught up to the shorter male. They went easily together, though Knight gave an inquisitive tug at the bit every now and then, obviously wanting to go faster but biding his time for now. Mourn was cool as could be, of course, which was very much his style. Knight's head was turned to the side in his eagerness as they moved them up into a canter, pushing more and more for speed. Vivien kept him calmly in hand, though, not allowing him to run off. He stood in the stirrups, easily balancing over the chestnut's surging form despite his rank excitement. "Sometimes I think he's more your type than mine," Vivien called over toward the cantering black. Savita, well-known for her hot temper, smiled ruefully. "Nah, I think I'll stay with my boy." The girl kissed at the colt, and Mourn easily lengthened into a gallop, Knight following quickly behind as Vivien let him chase. He kept Knight about a length behind - Mourn would likely face competition from the back, and Knight was more likely to be giving chase. They kept an eye out, then angled the horses to the rail at the 4/8 pole, letting them stretch out and pick up speed. They started straight into the turn, the chestnut not letting Mourn rest, though the black didn't seem panicked at all. He moved at his own pace, completely unurged by Savita.
As they rolled out of the turn, Savita kept Mourn chilly even as Knight started to bear down, pushing harder to try and catch the Derby winner. A furlong out, when Knight's nose was at Mourn's shoulder, Savita gave the colt one push to let him go and the rest was on him. Mourn kicked in with incredible turn of foot, charging forward and away from the pursuing stallion. He was a length ahead, a length and a half... two lengths and driving away at the wire, and Savita let him go, galloping him out strongly instead of easing him off. Knight gained again the further they got out, but that was to be expected of the router. Savita got the little chills she always got when riding her colt - she could feel the reserves he still had, and how easily he'd put away a horse that was not a totally unworthy competitor. While Knight wasn't at the level of competition he'd face in the Red Mile, the convincing way he'd worked told Savita that he was more than ready for his upcoming challenges.