BROTHERHOOD
Ode To Glory. Royal Cadenza.
Well, Amber has certainly been changing it up lately hasn't she? Valencia's casually posed question shook Krystal out of the half-daze she had been in as she walked Ode To Glory to his beloved turf training track. Krystal turned her head slightly, brown eyes meeting Valencia's inquiringly. Valencia caught her look and became exasperated. Oh come on! She's decided to lease Alucard out for his final season in Year Fifteen and to keep Ventura in training through her five year old season. Oh, and she's decided that Fleet Majesty will retire at the end of this year. And have you SEEN the scheme-gleam in her eyes? She's up to something! Krystal smiled grimly and chose not to indulge just what Amber was up to. She knew it involved breeding plans, future plans for the stable and other such things. Perhaps a much-needed vacation for the ever busy owner of Stride of Perfection Stables. Krystal knew for a fact that the thought of opening a separate breeding division had crossed her mind several times. But instead of responding, Krystal threw Valencia a smirk. We're doing a mile and a half workout, three furlong tune up today. Want her reasoning? Ode could use a spin of conditioning before his final prep for the Twilight Stakes. Royal Cadenza, needless to say, has been in fantastic form, but he could use some more stamina.
Valencia snorted but didn't question Krystal's logic. She merely guided Royal Cadenza on. The black five year old was only too happy to take the lead as they headed for the turf track. His was a story of how talent could be revealed through hard work and dedication. He had been nowhere near this level at the end of last season, and now look at him. Winner of the King Cup, Fourstardave and Malibu Stakes. Winning had become a daily custom to the black stallion, and he didn't want to look back. He was a different animal. Muscles rippled, arrogant confidence glimmered in his eyes...it was beautiful. And he caught eyes. He now attracted attention for his performance as well as his breeding. Valencia loved every minute aboard this whirlwind of a stallion. They both craved being in the middle of the action and finishing first. And as for Ode To Glory...that was a story. Valencia switched her gaze to the other horse. The former winner of the Breeders Cup Juvenile Turf had had a rough path to grade one and beyond. But even now, the willingness to please shone from his eyes, and the quiet contentment on Krystal's face could not be mistaken. Krystal would always love Ode regardless of his performance. Their journey had been a rough one, but the rewards were sweet whenever they, as the typical underdogs in a race, took the win before a stunned and unbelieving crowd of racing's finest.
Ode followed arrogant Caden onto the track, followed him towards the turn and tracked him around it as they accelerated to a gallop. Caden's strides were energetic and powerful; Ode's were those of a conditioned racehorse, carefully collected and with easy confidence and power. Caden carried himself like he was heading the charge; Ode carried himself with care to both his rider and his race. Valencia's eyes shone as she embraced the speed and power that was her charge. They strode away from Ode now, opening a two length lead as they hit the backstretch. Ode did not mind. He could play the stamina game. Caden settled now, letting his lead rest on its three length laurels, as they ran the first three quarters in an absolutely leisurely one twelve flat. The pace was not being asked for, and it was not being given. They had a long way to go. Krystal could feel Ode's focus on the prize, his eyes never leaving Caden's tail and never letting the gap grow wider. Here was a horse focused and ready to win, Krystal thought. He was ready to rise above the past and become the champion of the future.
Caden continued rolling down the backstretch and now around the final turn. Valencia did not move a muscle as they coasted towards the wire. This would mark the one mile of their journey. Another half mile to gallop and three furlongs to seal the deal. She smirked, glanced under her shoulder to see Ode racing confidently behind them. Ode was a stamina monster; his weakness, Valencia knew, rested in his acceleration. Caden had plenty of that, and speed, but not as much stamina. But as long as they maintained this lead, they should remain safe. Caden was running easy fractions and was not even tired. Going towards the first turn again, Valencia kneaded her hands and Caden gained another length on Ode. The gap was now four, maybe five lengths. Ode would have to sprout wings to catch Caden when it counted. Krystal was observant and noted the gap. Ode was skilled at navigating the turns, and now Krystal took advantage. She asked and received. Ode ate up some ground as they coasted around the turn to the backstretch and then settled on Caden about three lengths in front.
Valencia glanced and noted the smirk on Krystal's face. She clearly had a lot of horse under her. They were coming up on the three furlongs now...and there it was! Valencia said GO and Caden accelerated like a bullet out of a gun. He blazed down the backstretch, legs pushing off the turf strongly and fire blazing in his eyes. But Ode would not take this lying down. His eyes blazed with a different sort of fire - not of arrogance, but of determination. And now Ode accelerated sharply, Krystal counting the lengths. Ode would have to outpace Caden's acceleration. They wouldn't gain ground until halfway through. Such was life. But when the time came, the gap began to disappear. Two and a half, two, one and a half, one. They drew up alongside as they neared the final half furlong. Caden dug down, shook Ode off, but Ode responded, surging to meet the black stallion stride for stride in the shadow of the wire. They stormed across it, sharers in the heart of determination, family members by their status as underdogs. Their two riders glanced at each other, nodded in determination and refocused on their mounts. Greatness would come to these two, by their best efforts and by their jockeys'.
Valencia snorted but didn't question Krystal's logic. She merely guided Royal Cadenza on. The black five year old was only too happy to take the lead as they headed for the turf track. His was a story of how talent could be revealed through hard work and dedication. He had been nowhere near this level at the end of last season, and now look at him. Winner of the King Cup, Fourstardave and Malibu Stakes. Winning had become a daily custom to the black stallion, and he didn't want to look back. He was a different animal. Muscles rippled, arrogant confidence glimmered in his eyes...it was beautiful. And he caught eyes. He now attracted attention for his performance as well as his breeding. Valencia loved every minute aboard this whirlwind of a stallion. They both craved being in the middle of the action and finishing first. And as for Ode To Glory...that was a story. Valencia switched her gaze to the other horse. The former winner of the Breeders Cup Juvenile Turf had had a rough path to grade one and beyond. But even now, the willingness to please shone from his eyes, and the quiet contentment on Krystal's face could not be mistaken. Krystal would always love Ode regardless of his performance. Their journey had been a rough one, but the rewards were sweet whenever they, as the typical underdogs in a race, took the win before a stunned and unbelieving crowd of racing's finest.
Ode followed arrogant Caden onto the track, followed him towards the turn and tracked him around it as they accelerated to a gallop. Caden's strides were energetic and powerful; Ode's were those of a conditioned racehorse, carefully collected and with easy confidence and power. Caden carried himself like he was heading the charge; Ode carried himself with care to both his rider and his race. Valencia's eyes shone as she embraced the speed and power that was her charge. They strode away from Ode now, opening a two length lead as they hit the backstretch. Ode did not mind. He could play the stamina game. Caden settled now, letting his lead rest on its three length laurels, as they ran the first three quarters in an absolutely leisurely one twelve flat. The pace was not being asked for, and it was not being given. They had a long way to go. Krystal could feel Ode's focus on the prize, his eyes never leaving Caden's tail and never letting the gap grow wider. Here was a horse focused and ready to win, Krystal thought. He was ready to rise above the past and become the champion of the future.
Caden continued rolling down the backstretch and now around the final turn. Valencia did not move a muscle as they coasted towards the wire. This would mark the one mile of their journey. Another half mile to gallop and three furlongs to seal the deal. She smirked, glanced under her shoulder to see Ode racing confidently behind them. Ode was a stamina monster; his weakness, Valencia knew, rested in his acceleration. Caden had plenty of that, and speed, but not as much stamina. But as long as they maintained this lead, they should remain safe. Caden was running easy fractions and was not even tired. Going towards the first turn again, Valencia kneaded her hands and Caden gained another length on Ode. The gap was now four, maybe five lengths. Ode would have to sprout wings to catch Caden when it counted. Krystal was observant and noted the gap. Ode was skilled at navigating the turns, and now Krystal took advantage. She asked and received. Ode ate up some ground as they coasted around the turn to the backstretch and then settled on Caden about three lengths in front.
Valencia glanced and noted the smirk on Krystal's face. She clearly had a lot of horse under her. They were coming up on the three furlongs now...and there it was! Valencia said GO and Caden accelerated like a bullet out of a gun. He blazed down the backstretch, legs pushing off the turf strongly and fire blazing in his eyes. But Ode would not take this lying down. His eyes blazed with a different sort of fire - not of arrogance, but of determination. And now Ode accelerated sharply, Krystal counting the lengths. Ode would have to outpace Caden's acceleration. They wouldn't gain ground until halfway through. Such was life. But when the time came, the gap began to disappear. Two and a half, two, one and a half, one. They drew up alongside as they neared the final half furlong. Caden dug down, shook Ode off, but Ode responded, surging to meet the black stallion stride for stride in the shadow of the wire. They stormed across it, sharers in the heart of determination, family members by their status as underdogs. Their two riders glanced at each other, nodded in determination and refocused on their mounts. Greatness would come to these two, by their best efforts and by their jockeys'.
TO BE A WINNER
Alucard. Silent Snap. Italian Ice. Sweet Inferno.
Dirt track, party of four. Follow me, your dirt is just this way. Krystal raised her eyebrows in surprise at the teasing tone of none other than Kylie Silverstar. The young woman was smirking broadly. She was aboard...some horse. Krystal couldn't tell who it was from her spot in the barn aisle. But she waved an assent at Kylie and swung aboard her own mount anyway. Sweet Inferno immediately snorted, shifting sideways and with her dark eyes rolling in fury. This was not her rider. Her rider was Valencia Andrews. Krystal sighed, knotted fingers in the four year old's mane and set about calming her. Your gal is otherwise engaged, Sweetie. God only knows what would happen if we let somebody else up on Italian Ice. But you, I can handle. The granddaughter of Night Stalker snorted as though questioning such a claim but trotted out towards the dirt on Krystal's call. Krystal searched for Kylie, but she had mysteriously disappeared. Shrugging, she let Sweetie take her to the track. The vicious black mare knew exactly where it was, and upon stepping hoof on it instantly relaxed. Her stride became long and rangy, her eyes more relaxed. Now the marathoner specialist was in her element and ready to whittle away at the competition.
She was met eye-to-eye by none other than the chestnut Silent Snap himself. The juvenile was solid muscle. He raised his head arrogantly as he met Sweetie's gaze, aggression in his own eyes and ears flattened. Amber Black slapped him on the neck sharply, her own green eyes dark with her own fury. Snapper was all about using his bulk to get what he wanted, and while it reminded Amber endearingly of Lynara's Kingdom it had gone too far in the past month. Something about summer did not sit well with Silent Snap. The chestnut colt hated the heat, would rather run in the cold. He would get his wish. The cool breezes of autumn were blowing in, and they were welcome. Amber relaxed as Snapper relaxed with her command, his eyes sweeping right over Sweetie as though she wasn't even there. Amber rolled her eyes, but smiled affectionately. You look good up there on Sweetie. How does she feel? Krystal shrugged, smiling. Ready to run a three mile race. What a marathoner. She has such a long stride, and she moves with...efficiency. A sudden voice broke in. Don't get too comfy up there. My ride. Valencia Andrews had arrived, and she rode Italian Ice.
Italian Ice was the most outrageously talented horse Valencia had ever ridden. The black mare had taken her far - her first Breeders Cup win, the first winner of the Canadian Triple Crown, surprises throughout the three years of their partnership. And there was none other she wanted aboard her back. Valencia knew this, smirked at the fact that all this talent was apart of their partnership and felt Icee's contentment as her hooves sank into the dirt and she recognized her competition. Icee loved a good fight and this bunch would give her that. And last to arrive was Henna Turath and Alucard, the speed of the bunch. Alucard was cold as ice, uncaring as the winter wind as he joined the other three horses. The Red Wine Sprint awaited them, another matchup against Optimus Unstoppable. And this time...winning was in the air. Henna hungered for a win for this bay colt who wouldn't care unless she made him care. Face set, she sent a look Amber's way which only meant one thing - bring it.
Amber was about to speak, but her eyes were drawn to something. They opened wide, brightened considerably. The riders turned and watched as a black blur approached from around the final turn. The horse moved as though he wasn't part of this world. His rider looked as though she would rather be nowhere else. It was Incognito and Kylie Silverstar, out for their morning yearling workout. Amber's green gaze was thoughtful as she watched the colt sweep past, but her distraction was only temporary. She shrugged and turned Silent Snap. With no effort at all, the chestnut colt took command of the pack, striking out for the lead. But he was not alone. Sweet Inferno surged up on his outside and snatched the speed. If this came down to stamina...Sweetie would take the cake. The marathoner mare would win her long races wire to wire. Her stamina was limitless. Amber shut Snapper down, angling him to the inside and letting Sweetie control the pace. Italian Ice followed them closely, a deadly combo in Valencia Andrews in the irons. And Alucard brought up the rear, eating the dirt but not caring.
They glided around the track. Nothing changed. Brilliance flashed in Icee's stride. Power in Snapper's. Will in Sweetie's. And coldness in Alu's. All of this combined and exploded within the final three furlongs. Sweetie accelerated sharply, snatching the lead from Snapper. Icee soared from the outside, her brilliance flashing as she made her own bid for the lead. And Snapper unfurled his chestnut stride and soared with the mares, not giving in. So fierce was the battle that when Alucard hooked to the outside and blew past them in a pure display of brilliance and speed...only Henna Turath noticed and had her breath taken away. Here was a colt sitting on a ticking time bomb. And as her laughter drifted back to the other three, their mounts recognized the forgotten threat and responded. Icee struck out for gold, her eyes burning. Sweetie and Snapper rolled after her, but it was too late. Alucard hit the wire a full length and a half in front, cold eyes freezing in the way he did when he won and tried not to show how it made him feel. Henna threw a hand in the air, reveling in the feeling of being a winner. For all of these horses, with hard work, wins certainly could not be too far away.
She was met eye-to-eye by none other than the chestnut Silent Snap himself. The juvenile was solid muscle. He raised his head arrogantly as he met Sweetie's gaze, aggression in his own eyes and ears flattened. Amber Black slapped him on the neck sharply, her own green eyes dark with her own fury. Snapper was all about using his bulk to get what he wanted, and while it reminded Amber endearingly of Lynara's Kingdom it had gone too far in the past month. Something about summer did not sit well with Silent Snap. The chestnut colt hated the heat, would rather run in the cold. He would get his wish. The cool breezes of autumn were blowing in, and they were welcome. Amber relaxed as Snapper relaxed with her command, his eyes sweeping right over Sweetie as though she wasn't even there. Amber rolled her eyes, but smiled affectionately. You look good up there on Sweetie. How does she feel? Krystal shrugged, smiling. Ready to run a three mile race. What a marathoner. She has such a long stride, and she moves with...efficiency. A sudden voice broke in. Don't get too comfy up there. My ride. Valencia Andrews had arrived, and she rode Italian Ice.
Italian Ice was the most outrageously talented horse Valencia had ever ridden. The black mare had taken her far - her first Breeders Cup win, the first winner of the Canadian Triple Crown, surprises throughout the three years of their partnership. And there was none other she wanted aboard her back. Valencia knew this, smirked at the fact that all this talent was apart of their partnership and felt Icee's contentment as her hooves sank into the dirt and she recognized her competition. Icee loved a good fight and this bunch would give her that. And last to arrive was Henna Turath and Alucard, the speed of the bunch. Alucard was cold as ice, uncaring as the winter wind as he joined the other three horses. The Red Wine Sprint awaited them, another matchup against Optimus Unstoppable. And this time...winning was in the air. Henna hungered for a win for this bay colt who wouldn't care unless she made him care. Face set, she sent a look Amber's way which only meant one thing - bring it.
Amber was about to speak, but her eyes were drawn to something. They opened wide, brightened considerably. The riders turned and watched as a black blur approached from around the final turn. The horse moved as though he wasn't part of this world. His rider looked as though she would rather be nowhere else. It was Incognito and Kylie Silverstar, out for their morning yearling workout. Amber's green gaze was thoughtful as she watched the colt sweep past, but her distraction was only temporary. She shrugged and turned Silent Snap. With no effort at all, the chestnut colt took command of the pack, striking out for the lead. But he was not alone. Sweet Inferno surged up on his outside and snatched the speed. If this came down to stamina...Sweetie would take the cake. The marathoner mare would win her long races wire to wire. Her stamina was limitless. Amber shut Snapper down, angling him to the inside and letting Sweetie control the pace. Italian Ice followed them closely, a deadly combo in Valencia Andrews in the irons. And Alucard brought up the rear, eating the dirt but not caring.
They glided around the track. Nothing changed. Brilliance flashed in Icee's stride. Power in Snapper's. Will in Sweetie's. And coldness in Alu's. All of this combined and exploded within the final three furlongs. Sweetie accelerated sharply, snatching the lead from Snapper. Icee soared from the outside, her brilliance flashing as she made her own bid for the lead. And Snapper unfurled his chestnut stride and soared with the mares, not giving in. So fierce was the battle that when Alucard hooked to the outside and blew past them in a pure display of brilliance and speed...only Henna Turath noticed and had her breath taken away. Here was a colt sitting on a ticking time bomb. And as her laughter drifted back to the other three, their mounts recognized the forgotten threat and responded. Icee struck out for gold, her eyes burning. Sweetie and Snapper rolled after her, but it was too late. Alucard hit the wire a full length and a half in front, cold eyes freezing in the way he did when he won and tried not to show how it made him feel. Henna threw a hand in the air, reveling in the feeling of being a winner. For all of these horses, with hard work, wins certainly could not be too far away.
add some fire
Ventura. Palisades Pirate.
Sun King or Lilith Wind or Great Revenge - they're probably the favorites. But I've got a horse here that none of them came match in at least one capacity, if not more, and that capacity is his energy. Pyrite has enough energy to outlast the field on the lead. We're going to have a rated race ending with a burst of energetic fire! And at the last words of that statement, Henna Turath leaned forward in the saddle to loop her arms around Pyrite's neck. The bay colt snorted at the contact, eyes bright with pleasure, and whinnied, demanding either more attention or a workout. Pyrite had made two starts in July - one a devastating win in the Sun Power Stakes, the other a disappointing fourth place in the El Joven Stakes. But the result of these starts had been a vastly determined, workhorse Pyrite. He had been galloping a solid mile and a half every day to work off his excess energy, and had lately worked out against some yearlings, teaching them manners. And now this. Henna grinned widely as she sighted the black thoroughbred mare stamping her hoof and turning the air red with every glance from her furious eyes.
Amber Black was steady and strong. She had been walking with Henna, listening to her talk and nodding about her preps, while Krystal readied Ventura for her. Now she swung on board the black mare, who immediately threw an ill-tempered buck. Amber had been expecting it. She sat through it, the smirk on her face saying everything she wanted to say. Ven was dangerous these days. Three straight losses and she had become unmanageable. Now she commanded attention with a presence unlike her from before. Now, she desired the competent rider on her back so she could rip into her foes. Oh yes, the Rising Fury in her was showing today. Amber sat through yet another buck and a half rear as they accompanied the ever-calm Pyrite to the track. All signs were pointing to kicking the poor juvenile's ass, but Amber sincerely thought Pyrite could use this exposure to get him primed for his next race. The Lucky Day Futurity would not be easy. Pyrite needed all the edges he could get.
Henna admired the calmness of her mount as she observed the maelstrom that was Ventura. Amber was tight-lipped and grim on the black mare, but Henna could pick out the fierceness in her eyes. They weren't taking defeat so easily ever again, it appeared. Henna nodded in approval. Ventura could use some wins against the top class sprinters. It had been a surprise when she had turned out to be such a sprinter, but not in a bad way. Ventura was blazing fast. Perhaps not yet as capable as Forbidden To Fly or Mastermind, but just behind them. Henna could tell that Amber had been toying with Ventura's retirement plans. Something about retiring some other horse and making Ventura the primary dirt sprinter for next season instead. Henna couldn't say she approved of retiring the other horse - probably Alucard - but it was Amber's call to make. If Ventura still appeared to have it at the end of the season, then why not? Henna's attention went back to to the workout. Amber accelerated on Ven and Pyrite instinctually moved to keep the older mare company
The furlongs began to whip past. Pyrite snatched the lead and marched the pair through good fractions - twenty four and four fifths, forty eight flat for the half as Ventura pushed him faster. But these speeds were manageable. There was plenty left in the tank. But what made Ventura so dangerous was her speed, not her stamina. She had crushed the field in the Breeders Cup Filly and Mare Sprint with her speed. It showed now as they moved past the three quarter marker. Ventura accelerated, her eyes dark and dangerous as she challenged Pyrite to keep with her. The juvenile deferred to his rider, and Henna pushed him faster as a result. Pyrite responded, legs blurring as he stuck to the older mare like a burr in her mane. Ventura's grim enjoyment of the situation only pushed the pace faster. They were rocketing around the final turn now, yet Pyrite was sticking it to the grade one winner! Ventura snorted and decided to actually try now. The black mare reached into the deep well of her speed and then poured it all out. There was no comparison to this speed fueled by rage and frustration as Ventura accelerated and took no prisoners.
But Pyrite was no mere prisoner. Even as three lengths of daylight appeared in the blink of an eye, Pyrite recollected himself and sought the victory. Henna felt like clapping even as they crossed the wire two and a half lengths behind their foe. Pyrite had such heart and Ventura had such talent. Both of these things would make Pyrite a great racehorse and Ven an even better one.
Amber Black was steady and strong. She had been walking with Henna, listening to her talk and nodding about her preps, while Krystal readied Ventura for her. Now she swung on board the black mare, who immediately threw an ill-tempered buck. Amber had been expecting it. She sat through it, the smirk on her face saying everything she wanted to say. Ven was dangerous these days. Three straight losses and she had become unmanageable. Now she commanded attention with a presence unlike her from before. Now, she desired the competent rider on her back so she could rip into her foes. Oh yes, the Rising Fury in her was showing today. Amber sat through yet another buck and a half rear as they accompanied the ever-calm Pyrite to the track. All signs were pointing to kicking the poor juvenile's ass, but Amber sincerely thought Pyrite could use this exposure to get him primed for his next race. The Lucky Day Futurity would not be easy. Pyrite needed all the edges he could get.
Henna admired the calmness of her mount as she observed the maelstrom that was Ventura. Amber was tight-lipped and grim on the black mare, but Henna could pick out the fierceness in her eyes. They weren't taking defeat so easily ever again, it appeared. Henna nodded in approval. Ventura could use some wins against the top class sprinters. It had been a surprise when she had turned out to be such a sprinter, but not in a bad way. Ventura was blazing fast. Perhaps not yet as capable as Forbidden To Fly or Mastermind, but just behind them. Henna could tell that Amber had been toying with Ventura's retirement plans. Something about retiring some other horse and making Ventura the primary dirt sprinter for next season instead. Henna couldn't say she approved of retiring the other horse - probably Alucard - but it was Amber's call to make. If Ventura still appeared to have it at the end of the season, then why not? Henna's attention went back to to the workout. Amber accelerated on Ven and Pyrite instinctually moved to keep the older mare company
The furlongs began to whip past. Pyrite snatched the lead and marched the pair through good fractions - twenty four and four fifths, forty eight flat for the half as Ventura pushed him faster. But these speeds were manageable. There was plenty left in the tank. But what made Ventura so dangerous was her speed, not her stamina. She had crushed the field in the Breeders Cup Filly and Mare Sprint with her speed. It showed now as they moved past the three quarter marker. Ventura accelerated, her eyes dark and dangerous as she challenged Pyrite to keep with her. The juvenile deferred to his rider, and Henna pushed him faster as a result. Pyrite responded, legs blurring as he stuck to the older mare like a burr in her mane. Ventura's grim enjoyment of the situation only pushed the pace faster. They were rocketing around the final turn now, yet Pyrite was sticking it to the grade one winner! Ventura snorted and decided to actually try now. The black mare reached into the deep well of her speed and then poured it all out. There was no comparison to this speed fueled by rage and frustration as Ventura accelerated and took no prisoners.
But Pyrite was no mere prisoner. Even as three lengths of daylight appeared in the blink of an eye, Pyrite recollected himself and sought the victory. Henna felt like clapping even as they crossed the wire two and a half lengths behind their foe. Pyrite had such heart and Ventura had such talent. Both of these things would make Pyrite a great racehorse and Ven an even better one.
add some speed
In The Spotlight. Fleet Majesty. Innocent Passion. Call of the Wild.
It was as if emotion was immolating her. Krystal stared into the deep brown eyes of the horse she was destined to ride in the Breeders Stakes and felt it all just roll through her. Frustration. Anger, directed at something intangible that she felt more than saw. Hunger, for here was the colt above all else that deserved some fame. Call of the Wild gazed right back at her, his eyes quiet. He felt every emotion roiling through her body, yet did not react to it. Such was the calm level-headedness of Krystal's three year old partner. Call had not won a race since March, yet he had suffered fantastic defeats. He had placed second to The Devil's Hourglass in the Belmont Turf Classic. He had just placed fifth in the Dare To Dream Memorial, a product of hating the slop rather than having a lack of class. Call possessed the power of surprise and the power of a rider dead set on placing him squarely at the top. Krystal had even given up on riding Innocent Passion for this workout so she could ride Call. Twelve furlongs was a distance Call was perhaps second best at in the country over the turf because of his performance in the Belmont Turf Classic. That put the odds squarely in his favor for the Breeders Stakes - well, Krystal hoped anyway.
She would be met on the track today by three fierce competitors. One of them was proven. The other two? Rising stars. And riding her pride and joy would be Henna Turath. That woman knew speed, and she would appreciate the ride on Anna. Speaking of...Krystal spied the pair now. Beautifully muscular and passionate Anna, fresh off her win over Cross in the Nearctic Stakes. Spirit shone in her eyes. Krystal admired it from a distance, smiled at the enthusiasm shining in Henna's eyes as she admired the speed train that was Anna. Henna would love riding that foe. And it was time to meet her on the track. Krystal swung onto Call and the colt made his way to the turf with the quickness and ease of long practice. He knew exactly where the track that he had slaved himself working over was. He stepped onto it with authority, swung his head around to fix Anna in a glance that showed the unfathomable debts of his eyes as the grade one champion followed him. Anna snorted, competitive spirit in her eyes, but was soon distracted by the presence of the two other horses for today's workout.
Innie vibrated with attention and sound. Valencia looked grim aboard this filly's back. Anna had tough tasks facing her in every single race this season. Three year old classics were tough. You couldn't get away from anybody - unless you were Demonic Desires, in which case no horses showed up to face you. Krystal snorted at that. By the grim look on Valencia's face, she was thinking similar thoughts and was hoping to school both Demon and Paranormal Hunter in the Frankel Green Mile. Valencia certainly demonstrated Innie's capacity whenever they worked out. The chestnut filly could break like a fire was burning underneath her tail, assume the lead with authoritative speed and then have the stamina to go even faster when challenged and win. Against game competitors, dogfights erupted. Innie was one hell of a tough filly when challenged. She would rebound. And so would Call. Krystal set her face and nodded grimly at Valencia. Valencia recognized the challenge and smirked back. Anna, on the other hand, was taking Henna on a tour of the racetrack. The lightning fast mare jittered around, excited by the presence of competition, eyes bright.
And alas they were joined by Fleet Majesty. She was indeed majestic as she quietly joined them, dapple gray coat gleaming like clouds on a peaceful day, but her eyes were like stormclouds. Mage was sick of being walked all over as well. She had not won since February. FEBRUARY. Call himself had not won since March. Indeed, there were a couple of droughts among the underdogs. But there was no shortage of class performances. Krystal nodded and swept her eyes over the ranks. Mage vibrated with energy, Anna with competitive rage, Innie with the need for attention and Call...with the need to prove. The four swung out onto the track now. Innie took the lead with her usual speed. Anna pressed the pace from the outside, eyes bright. Call and Mage brought up the rear. Mage loved the thrill of the hunt that came from closing. Call closed so that he could enjoy the race. That was why he loved twelve furlongs - there was something about galloping on endlessly which made Call feel alive. Krystal enjoyed just having so much time aboard her horse.
They swept through the first part of the workout before something changed. Krystal was unsure of what it was, but suddenly Call was gunning for the lead much earlier than he usually would. The bay horse charged, leaving a stunned Mage and Amber in his dust as he slipped to the inside of Innie and took the lead without Anna even realizing he was there. Innie snorted, infuriated, accelerating sharply to stick with her stablemate. Anna waited patiently. Mage accelerated slightly as the pace grew faster, more furious. Fire burned in Call's eyes, fire that the easy going horse typically did not display. He was running for something else right now, something he had wanted for a while - recognition. The final turn, and Call only got faster. But now Anna the champion sprinter moved, her legs blurring and Henna crowing as she felt the speed of her mount for the first time. This workout was at a mile. Anna had the advantage. But Call was not giving up. He had a surprising amount of speed for the short distance. Krystal reflected on that even as Call went faster. He gripped the turf and pushed off and stunned, of all horses, Innocent Passion.
Krystal was smiling as they galloped to the wire. Anna did not get stunned. She had learned to fight and always fought hard. Call was not the exception. Anna pulled up alongside, stubbornness in her eyes. But it was reflected in Call. The colt put his nose down at the wire, fighting to the last second. A shriek of frustration sounded from somebody's throat - Valencia's, it seemed, who had nearly nabbed the lead with a closing charge. Amber was growling, boxed in the entire trip around with Mage, but still satisfied with their game determination to not be left behind. Henna was radiating exhilaration from her trip aboard the speed mistress Anna herself. And Krystal...Krystal felt happy and light as air. Call had proven himself unwilling to give in, willing to give his heart for the win. And they would need that to not only defend the SOPS title in the Breeders Stakes, but to make it into the big time and be considered a top dog themselves.
She would be met on the track today by three fierce competitors. One of them was proven. The other two? Rising stars. And riding her pride and joy would be Henna Turath. That woman knew speed, and she would appreciate the ride on Anna. Speaking of...Krystal spied the pair now. Beautifully muscular and passionate Anna, fresh off her win over Cross in the Nearctic Stakes. Spirit shone in her eyes. Krystal admired it from a distance, smiled at the enthusiasm shining in Henna's eyes as she admired the speed train that was Anna. Henna would love riding that foe. And it was time to meet her on the track. Krystal swung onto Call and the colt made his way to the turf with the quickness and ease of long practice. He knew exactly where the track that he had slaved himself working over was. He stepped onto it with authority, swung his head around to fix Anna in a glance that showed the unfathomable debts of his eyes as the grade one champion followed him. Anna snorted, competitive spirit in her eyes, but was soon distracted by the presence of the two other horses for today's workout.
Innie vibrated with attention and sound. Valencia looked grim aboard this filly's back. Anna had tough tasks facing her in every single race this season. Three year old classics were tough. You couldn't get away from anybody - unless you were Demonic Desires, in which case no horses showed up to face you. Krystal snorted at that. By the grim look on Valencia's face, she was thinking similar thoughts and was hoping to school both Demon and Paranormal Hunter in the Frankel Green Mile. Valencia certainly demonstrated Innie's capacity whenever they worked out. The chestnut filly could break like a fire was burning underneath her tail, assume the lead with authoritative speed and then have the stamina to go even faster when challenged and win. Against game competitors, dogfights erupted. Innie was one hell of a tough filly when challenged. She would rebound. And so would Call. Krystal set her face and nodded grimly at Valencia. Valencia recognized the challenge and smirked back. Anna, on the other hand, was taking Henna on a tour of the racetrack. The lightning fast mare jittered around, excited by the presence of competition, eyes bright.
And alas they were joined by Fleet Majesty. She was indeed majestic as she quietly joined them, dapple gray coat gleaming like clouds on a peaceful day, but her eyes were like stormclouds. Mage was sick of being walked all over as well. She had not won since February. FEBRUARY. Call himself had not won since March. Indeed, there were a couple of droughts among the underdogs. But there was no shortage of class performances. Krystal nodded and swept her eyes over the ranks. Mage vibrated with energy, Anna with competitive rage, Innie with the need for attention and Call...with the need to prove. The four swung out onto the track now. Innie took the lead with her usual speed. Anna pressed the pace from the outside, eyes bright. Call and Mage brought up the rear. Mage loved the thrill of the hunt that came from closing. Call closed so that he could enjoy the race. That was why he loved twelve furlongs - there was something about galloping on endlessly which made Call feel alive. Krystal enjoyed just having so much time aboard her horse.
They swept through the first part of the workout before something changed. Krystal was unsure of what it was, but suddenly Call was gunning for the lead much earlier than he usually would. The bay horse charged, leaving a stunned Mage and Amber in his dust as he slipped to the inside of Innie and took the lead without Anna even realizing he was there. Innie snorted, infuriated, accelerating sharply to stick with her stablemate. Anna waited patiently. Mage accelerated slightly as the pace grew faster, more furious. Fire burned in Call's eyes, fire that the easy going horse typically did not display. He was running for something else right now, something he had wanted for a while - recognition. The final turn, and Call only got faster. But now Anna the champion sprinter moved, her legs blurring and Henna crowing as she felt the speed of her mount for the first time. This workout was at a mile. Anna had the advantage. But Call was not giving up. He had a surprising amount of speed for the short distance. Krystal reflected on that even as Call went faster. He gripped the turf and pushed off and stunned, of all horses, Innocent Passion.
Krystal was smiling as they galloped to the wire. Anna did not get stunned. She had learned to fight and always fought hard. Call was not the exception. Anna pulled up alongside, stubbornness in her eyes. But it was reflected in Call. The colt put his nose down at the wire, fighting to the last second. A shriek of frustration sounded from somebody's throat - Valencia's, it seemed, who had nearly nabbed the lead with a closing charge. Amber was growling, boxed in the entire trip around with Mage, but still satisfied with their game determination to not be left behind. Henna was radiating exhilaration from her trip aboard the speed mistress Anna herself. And Krystal...Krystal felt happy and light as air. Call had proven himself unwilling to give in, willing to give his heart for the win. And they would need that to not only defend the SOPS title in the Breeders Stakes, but to make it into the big time and be considered a top dog themselves.