january YEAR thirteen
WEEK TWO WORKOUTS
SUGAR JAYDE AND AQUATIC ADDICTION.
SIZZLING DAWN AND SWEET INFERNO.
WILD KISS AND AXIS MUNDAE.
FIRE DANCER AND vENTURA.
blissful days
Sugar Jayde and Henna Turath
Aquatic Addiction and Valencia Andrews
This workout was, to say the least, a surprising welcome to Valencia Andrews. She was riding her new three year old sprinter colt Aquatic Addiction against the barn's fledgling turf sprinter grade one Sugar Jayde. And given the difference in capabilities between the two horses, they would be battling it out over the dirt track, Theo's domain. Not that Jayde had a special dislike for the dirt or anything. She just vastly preferred the turf. But Valencia already knew she would be taking full advantage of the mare's handicap in this workout. They needed to take every advantage that they could get, for Valencia had set a goal for herself and Theo. They were going to topple the brilliant colt Mastermind from his throne by the end of the year. The chestnut Witch Creek son had royal bloodlines and amazing heaps of talent. He had won impressively against them in the Breeders Cup. Well, this year was going to be a different story. Valencia was going to work harder with Theo and give their new chestnut rival a run for his money.
She was perched on the miler colt's back now. Theo was an obedient mount who listened to her commands. He perked up as they approached the dirt track, his nostrils flaring once in barely concealed excitement. Valencia felt the energy thrilling through the reins and grinned. The SOPS dirt track welcomed Theo's hooves. The colt moved smoothly over it, essentially slinking over the soft surface, ready for anything. He had filled out fully into short fifteen point one hand high frame. Despite this size Theo was a powerful racehorse. He focused more and was always in tune with his rider. They just hadn't been good enough on Breeders Cup day but they were going to work towards being good enough by the end of the year. The Breeders Cup was coming again and it would be their date with destiny.
Sugar Jayde was the daughter of Sweet Sugar Cane and Queen Of Hearts. She had been a royally welcomed prospect of whom big things had been expected. As a juvenile she had dominated the turf sprinter ranks, defeating her opponents in hard-fought battles. Then last year Jayde had faltered slightly. She hadn't been as domineering and had instead taken to the Wire track with gusto. She had lightly raced over the Green Horse Fields track this week for a second place finish in a minor stakes race. Henna Turath knew her gray mare was capable of more. Now four years old, it was time for her to truly shine, even against the side of her stablemate champion sprinter Lynara's Kingdom. Jayde had won her Breeders Cup race against only Bella and was officially a two time Breeders Cup champion. She demanded more prestige than what she was getting and deserved it too.
Jayde was sweet as always in Henna's hands, well mannered. But as they approached the dirt track she grew a tad more fiery. She tossed her heads and essentially pranced forward at a faster pace. Henna felt her excitement as well and grinned. The dirt track was not their forte but it would have to be for today. They were mentoring young Theo, a year their junior and a new dirt sprinter for the stables. Henna knew the colt had some talent, but it had not been properly nurtured yet. His juvenile season had been good enough to set a base for future great things, however, and that was what guided the stable's efforts with him now. And in Jayde's case, they were restarting the rise to the top. They had fallen, and only true champions would make it back up. Jayde would take her place among them.
Jayde was not hesitant as she marched onto the dirt track, though she was a tad uneasy to feel the soft surface under her hooves. Experienced as she was, she did not react, though her head tossed slightly in muted surprise and slight displeasure. Henna guided her forward regardless, calm throughout it all. Theo took up position at the gray mare's side and then they were off and running, cool, calm and collected. The pair looked like seasoned professionals as they took to the dirt. Jayde kept slightly ahead of Theo, and when they started galloping widened her margin of lead to a length. Theo stayed close behind, his eyes keen and focused. He was a lot more mature and calm than he had been as a juvenile, that was for sure.
Gliding as they had been, the two swept around the dirt track smoothly and with eyes full of fire. At the end of a mile Theo came charging up on the outside to challenge Jayde for her lead. The mare snorted and put on a spurt of speed as though to charge away from the three year old. Theo had none of that. He was done with being beaten, done with being left behind by lengths and lengths. He ran faster, matching Jayde stride for stride as they swept under the wire, ending a workout full of heart and determination.
She was perched on the miler colt's back now. Theo was an obedient mount who listened to her commands. He perked up as they approached the dirt track, his nostrils flaring once in barely concealed excitement. Valencia felt the energy thrilling through the reins and grinned. The SOPS dirt track welcomed Theo's hooves. The colt moved smoothly over it, essentially slinking over the soft surface, ready for anything. He had filled out fully into short fifteen point one hand high frame. Despite this size Theo was a powerful racehorse. He focused more and was always in tune with his rider. They just hadn't been good enough on Breeders Cup day but they were going to work towards being good enough by the end of the year. The Breeders Cup was coming again and it would be their date with destiny.
Sugar Jayde was the daughter of Sweet Sugar Cane and Queen Of Hearts. She had been a royally welcomed prospect of whom big things had been expected. As a juvenile she had dominated the turf sprinter ranks, defeating her opponents in hard-fought battles. Then last year Jayde had faltered slightly. She hadn't been as domineering and had instead taken to the Wire track with gusto. She had lightly raced over the Green Horse Fields track this week for a second place finish in a minor stakes race. Henna Turath knew her gray mare was capable of more. Now four years old, it was time for her to truly shine, even against the side of her stablemate champion sprinter Lynara's Kingdom. Jayde had won her Breeders Cup race against only Bella and was officially a two time Breeders Cup champion. She demanded more prestige than what she was getting and deserved it too.
Jayde was sweet as always in Henna's hands, well mannered. But as they approached the dirt track she grew a tad more fiery. She tossed her heads and essentially pranced forward at a faster pace. Henna felt her excitement as well and grinned. The dirt track was not their forte but it would have to be for today. They were mentoring young Theo, a year their junior and a new dirt sprinter for the stables. Henna knew the colt had some talent, but it had not been properly nurtured yet. His juvenile season had been good enough to set a base for future great things, however, and that was what guided the stable's efforts with him now. And in Jayde's case, they were restarting the rise to the top. They had fallen, and only true champions would make it back up. Jayde would take her place among them.
Jayde was not hesitant as she marched onto the dirt track, though she was a tad uneasy to feel the soft surface under her hooves. Experienced as she was, she did not react, though her head tossed slightly in muted surprise and slight displeasure. Henna guided her forward regardless, calm throughout it all. Theo took up position at the gray mare's side and then they were off and running, cool, calm and collected. The pair looked like seasoned professionals as they took to the dirt. Jayde kept slightly ahead of Theo, and when they started galloping widened her margin of lead to a length. Theo stayed close behind, his eyes keen and focused. He was a lot more mature and calm than he had been as a juvenile, that was for sure.
Gliding as they had been, the two swept around the dirt track smoothly and with eyes full of fire. At the end of a mile Theo came charging up on the outside to challenge Jayde for her lead. The mare snorted and put on a spurt of speed as though to charge away from the three year old. Theo had none of that. He was done with being beaten, done with being left behind by lengths and lengths. He ran faster, matching Jayde stride for stride as they swept under the wire, ending a workout full of heart and determination.
THE NEW FIT
Sizzling Dawn and Henna Turath
Sweet Inferno and Valencia Andrews
So it's settled then. You will be Sweetie's new rider Valencia. I think you'll do good things with her. Thing is, she needs a different touch, and she's not too much Henna's type of horse. So go to work! I think you'll do fine with her. She's racing in the Indiana Derby at the Wire next week. See what you can pull out of her for me. Amber paused in the middle of her discourse to draw breath before continuing. You ran her to second place in the Don't Blink this week. You'll win next time out. You know this filly. You understand her already. For your workout...I'm putting you up against Sizzling Dawn. Take care! And with that Amber Black strode off, muttering something about a training lease with eyes dancing.
Valencia Andrews looked after her boss as she left, her eyes ablaze with tons of emotions. Pride being foremost, ambition a likely second. Sweet Inferno was of royal blood and the stable's only true contender for the Belmont Stakes. That was a race very far off for the filly. No Tiara for her. It was too short. No, Sweetie was the router type. She had an intensity about her that intimidated all, and she didn't back down from long races. She was a front runner, but a smart one. And above all, Sweetie had the ambition to want to do great things. That was right up Valencia's alley. She grinned again, then smirked, then laughed. She looked in to Sweetie's stall and there the black filly was, filled out and magnificent. Ready to rock the competition off of their hooves.
Within ten minutes she was on the dirt track, putting Sweetie through her paces. Sweetie responded to her touch instantly, with well learned obedience, but there was an edge of rebellion about the filly that put Valencia on her guard. Sweetie was apparently at her calmest on the track. That calmest had been reversing slightly as the filly raced. Her fourth place finish in the Juvenile Fillies had been unwelcome and she wanted revenge. Valencia similarly wanted to guide the filly along. Her next win would get her into the grade four ranks and from there they would only rise. There were so many options open to this filly. So many places for her to go, and Valencia wanted to take the filly everywhere. Generations of careful breeding and chance had deposited Sweetie in her hands. She wasn't letting this opportunity go.
Sizzling Dawn, third in the Gateway Derby at the Wire so far this year, and unmatched in intensity by her very intense age group. It was impressive. The filly looked like a colt, all bulked out and muscly. Her eyes gleamed with the sun's intense rays as she looked straight at Henna Turath and neighed once, demanding something. Henna knew just what it was and soon the pair had taken to the dirt track to meet their workout partner for the day, Sweet Inferno. Henna eyed Valencia's riding as she got closer, observing how well her previous mount worked with her. Obviously very well, as seen by Sweetie's obeying of the young rider's commands. Valencia was really getting worked out this year. She was almost always riding as Amber found ways to level the woman's skills, and she was becoming good. A real person to watch out for in the saddle.
Dawn drew herself up as she strode towards Sweetie. Sweetie similarly became more arrogant, tilting her head to the side and baring her teeth in an unusually aggressive and out of character way for the filly on the track. Dawn and Sweetie had the worst rivalry in the entire stable. They absolutely hated each other. Thus...this workout was likely to be more than a little fast. Their riders grinned but warily rode their mounts away from each other. They would only do the galloping together, to lessen the chances of a fight taking place. Dawn moved like a lioness underneath Henna. She was their Derby and Preakness horse. Her fourth in the Juvenile had essentially knocked her off of everybody's radar. No, all everybody else thought about was Nightshade and Red Herring. Henna snorted. They were stupid to let their guard down. Dawn would get to the level of her competitors quickly. She had matured now and was putting the finishing touches on her physical maturation. Time would tell if Nightshade and Red Herring would still be at the top by the end of the year.
Filly versus filly were practically chewing at the reins as they were finally cantered alongside each other and eased into the gallop. They were both front runners, which only promoted their hatred of each other. Dawn and Sweetie looked eye to eye and snarled at each other. They pounded through the furlongs on the dirt track, a black and bay blur melding into one as they fiercely fought for the top spot and went as fast as their riders would allow. They were kept together, side by side, and that only frustrated them both more. They wanted out and received out by the last furlong when they were realized. Like balls spitting out of a cannon, they became streaks of black and red flame. There was no halting their run as they sprinted now, legs pumping and hearts racing, riders clinging on as the impressive speed engulfed them.
It seemed that the new fit with Valencia was a good one. And it also seemed as though these two underrated dirt fillies would give their current "superiors" their reckoning by the end of the year.
Valencia Andrews looked after her boss as she left, her eyes ablaze with tons of emotions. Pride being foremost, ambition a likely second. Sweet Inferno was of royal blood and the stable's only true contender for the Belmont Stakes. That was a race very far off for the filly. No Tiara for her. It was too short. No, Sweetie was the router type. She had an intensity about her that intimidated all, and she didn't back down from long races. She was a front runner, but a smart one. And above all, Sweetie had the ambition to want to do great things. That was right up Valencia's alley. She grinned again, then smirked, then laughed. She looked in to Sweetie's stall and there the black filly was, filled out and magnificent. Ready to rock the competition off of their hooves.
Within ten minutes she was on the dirt track, putting Sweetie through her paces. Sweetie responded to her touch instantly, with well learned obedience, but there was an edge of rebellion about the filly that put Valencia on her guard. Sweetie was apparently at her calmest on the track. That calmest had been reversing slightly as the filly raced. Her fourth place finish in the Juvenile Fillies had been unwelcome and she wanted revenge. Valencia similarly wanted to guide the filly along. Her next win would get her into the grade four ranks and from there they would only rise. There were so many options open to this filly. So many places for her to go, and Valencia wanted to take the filly everywhere. Generations of careful breeding and chance had deposited Sweetie in her hands. She wasn't letting this opportunity go.
Sizzling Dawn, third in the Gateway Derby at the Wire so far this year, and unmatched in intensity by her very intense age group. It was impressive. The filly looked like a colt, all bulked out and muscly. Her eyes gleamed with the sun's intense rays as she looked straight at Henna Turath and neighed once, demanding something. Henna knew just what it was and soon the pair had taken to the dirt track to meet their workout partner for the day, Sweet Inferno. Henna eyed Valencia's riding as she got closer, observing how well her previous mount worked with her. Obviously very well, as seen by Sweetie's obeying of the young rider's commands. Valencia was really getting worked out this year. She was almost always riding as Amber found ways to level the woman's skills, and she was becoming good. A real person to watch out for in the saddle.
Dawn drew herself up as she strode towards Sweetie. Sweetie similarly became more arrogant, tilting her head to the side and baring her teeth in an unusually aggressive and out of character way for the filly on the track. Dawn and Sweetie had the worst rivalry in the entire stable. They absolutely hated each other. Thus...this workout was likely to be more than a little fast. Their riders grinned but warily rode their mounts away from each other. They would only do the galloping together, to lessen the chances of a fight taking place. Dawn moved like a lioness underneath Henna. She was their Derby and Preakness horse. Her fourth in the Juvenile had essentially knocked her off of everybody's radar. No, all everybody else thought about was Nightshade and Red Herring. Henna snorted. They were stupid to let their guard down. Dawn would get to the level of her competitors quickly. She had matured now and was putting the finishing touches on her physical maturation. Time would tell if Nightshade and Red Herring would still be at the top by the end of the year.
Filly versus filly were practically chewing at the reins as they were finally cantered alongside each other and eased into the gallop. They were both front runners, which only promoted their hatred of each other. Dawn and Sweetie looked eye to eye and snarled at each other. They pounded through the furlongs on the dirt track, a black and bay blur melding into one as they fiercely fought for the top spot and went as fast as their riders would allow. They were kept together, side by side, and that only frustrated them both more. They wanted out and received out by the last furlong when they were realized. Like balls spitting out of a cannon, they became streaks of black and red flame. There was no halting their run as they sprinted now, legs pumping and hearts racing, riders clinging on as the impressive speed engulfed them.
It seemed that the new fit with Valencia was a good one. And it also seemed as though these two underrated dirt fillies would give their current "superiors" their reckoning by the end of the year.
AXIA'S KISS
Wild Kiss and Valencia Andrews
Axis Mundae and Amber Black
To Valencia, Wild Kiss's career had begun to turn around starting from the moment she rode her during her trial workouts. She had just understood Kiss and ridden her impressively against very good competition. Since then, Kiss had risen, especially over the Wire turf. This year, Kiss was going to be pointed mainly to Wire races, over which she had usually excelled and beaten great competition. This was the turf mare's year to shine and it was all up to her. Now five years old, the DW Flamekissed daughter had seniority on her side. She had the musculature of a seasoned athlete and the attitude of a champion racehorse. She was all business as she strode out onto the track, dainty light bay flame lightning up like a flame in the sunlight. There were so many things this mare was capable of doing. Sly as she was, she could do so much more.
Amber Black, being the trainer that she was, had picked up on Kiss as a bit slow in the speed department. So she had scheduled a workout today against her bullet turf sprinter Axia. Axia was already off to a great start this season, winning her first start back. The goal at the end of the year was to finally win a Breeders Cup race in the Turf Sprint. Axia had just missed for two years straight and the pair was done with that. Axia's year had arrived. Amber nodded and vaulted into the saddle of the bold black filly with the coltish edge to her. Axia snorted and tossed her head before trotting powerfully to the turf track. Kiss was waiting for them and swung onto their outside as they began to warm up, Valencia posting comfortably to her strides and keenly awaiting Amber's instructions. We're working on Kiss's speed today. Now I know both of these horses are closers, but Axia's got sprinter in her while Kiss doesn't. We're galloping four furlongs and then pushing to top speed for two. It'll be quick, too quick for Kiss's liking, but she'll go along with it if you push her around. I'd jockey her myself but I need Axia going at the right speed for this. You ready? Valencia's wide smirk answered Amber's question. Amber grinned. Valencia was the most gutsy jockey on the team, especially for things like this.
Axia essentially intimidated Kiss with her bold, reckless attitude. She cut it close to the rail as they wound around at the canter, and then pushed out slightly and crowded Kiss as they hit the backstretch. Kiss responded as a senior racehorse did. She calmly adjusted her positioning and just kept on running, never breaking stride. Valencia thoroughly appreciated the maturity and grinned as they straightened into the stretch, still cantering. She waited for Amber's signal to gallop. When it came, Axia and Kiss accelerated rapidly, and in both cases the joy was unmistakable. Axia prowled forward slightly, leading by a neck and already more on her toes than closer Kiss. Kiss was far more relaxed, but her eyes took note of Axia's position and her sly personality edged her closer to the black filly. She was playing her own game while following Axia's lines and it was a clever race because of that.
Axia continued to prowl as the four furlongs ticked away. She slowly extended her reach, body swinging lower to the ground as she stretched out for more speed. Kiss remained sly as a fox, cool as a cucumber. She didn't intend to wake up and go anywhere anytime soon. This turf track was home to her, and she wanted to enjoy her time here. Her laid back attitude contrasted Axia's more high strung and fiery one sharply. Axia wanted to go. She couldn't bear waiting for a sprint past seven furlongs. There was no stopping her charge from occurring when she wanted to get going. She looked Kiss in the eye, swished her tail in the bay's face and waited for the command to take her out. She received it and rolled away instantly, placing three lengths between herself and Kiss in a matter of strides.
Kiss did not wake up. Valencia shook the reins and pushed and the mare simply reacted with a little confusion. When Valencia urged again Kiss took the opportunity. She stretched out, revving the engines slightly. Valencia shook her head and asked again, more urgently. She focused Kiss onto the retreating tail of Axia and asked again. The mare no longer responded gingerly to Valencia's commands. Now she roared into action, picking it up swiftly and setting off to the chase. She was a flame rolling forward easily, a blaze of horse intent on catching its quarry. Axia was swift, but Kiss in pursuit was swifter. She caught up by the end of the second furlong, pulling up alongside just as the jockeys took the horses out of their headlong flights. Breathless and excited, Valencia and Amber pulled their horses up with grins on their faces.
I do believe that worked Amber grinned Valencia. Amber merely nodded, pleased as could be.
Amber Black, being the trainer that she was, had picked up on Kiss as a bit slow in the speed department. So she had scheduled a workout today against her bullet turf sprinter Axia. Axia was already off to a great start this season, winning her first start back. The goal at the end of the year was to finally win a Breeders Cup race in the Turf Sprint. Axia had just missed for two years straight and the pair was done with that. Axia's year had arrived. Amber nodded and vaulted into the saddle of the bold black filly with the coltish edge to her. Axia snorted and tossed her head before trotting powerfully to the turf track. Kiss was waiting for them and swung onto their outside as they began to warm up, Valencia posting comfortably to her strides and keenly awaiting Amber's instructions. We're working on Kiss's speed today. Now I know both of these horses are closers, but Axia's got sprinter in her while Kiss doesn't. We're galloping four furlongs and then pushing to top speed for two. It'll be quick, too quick for Kiss's liking, but she'll go along with it if you push her around. I'd jockey her myself but I need Axia going at the right speed for this. You ready? Valencia's wide smirk answered Amber's question. Amber grinned. Valencia was the most gutsy jockey on the team, especially for things like this.
Axia essentially intimidated Kiss with her bold, reckless attitude. She cut it close to the rail as they wound around at the canter, and then pushed out slightly and crowded Kiss as they hit the backstretch. Kiss responded as a senior racehorse did. She calmly adjusted her positioning and just kept on running, never breaking stride. Valencia thoroughly appreciated the maturity and grinned as they straightened into the stretch, still cantering. She waited for Amber's signal to gallop. When it came, Axia and Kiss accelerated rapidly, and in both cases the joy was unmistakable. Axia prowled forward slightly, leading by a neck and already more on her toes than closer Kiss. Kiss was far more relaxed, but her eyes took note of Axia's position and her sly personality edged her closer to the black filly. She was playing her own game while following Axia's lines and it was a clever race because of that.
Axia continued to prowl as the four furlongs ticked away. She slowly extended her reach, body swinging lower to the ground as she stretched out for more speed. Kiss remained sly as a fox, cool as a cucumber. She didn't intend to wake up and go anywhere anytime soon. This turf track was home to her, and she wanted to enjoy her time here. Her laid back attitude contrasted Axia's more high strung and fiery one sharply. Axia wanted to go. She couldn't bear waiting for a sprint past seven furlongs. There was no stopping her charge from occurring when she wanted to get going. She looked Kiss in the eye, swished her tail in the bay's face and waited for the command to take her out. She received it and rolled away instantly, placing three lengths between herself and Kiss in a matter of strides.
Kiss did not wake up. Valencia shook the reins and pushed and the mare simply reacted with a little confusion. When Valencia urged again Kiss took the opportunity. She stretched out, revving the engines slightly. Valencia shook her head and asked again, more urgently. She focused Kiss onto the retreating tail of Axia and asked again. The mare no longer responded gingerly to Valencia's commands. Now she roared into action, picking it up swiftly and setting off to the chase. She was a flame rolling forward easily, a blaze of horse intent on catching its quarry. Axia was swift, but Kiss in pursuit was swifter. She caught up by the end of the second furlong, pulling up alongside just as the jockeys took the horses out of their headlong flights. Breathless and excited, Valencia and Amber pulled their horses up with grins on their faces.
I do believe that worked Amber grinned Valencia. Amber merely nodded, pleased as could be.
VENGEANCE ON HOOVES
Fire Dancer and Krystal Yhate
Ventura and Amber Black
The black filly was pure power as she danced beneath Amber Black with nothing less than determined excitement in her eyes. Ventura, the black daughter of Impressario and Rising Fury, was ready to rock and roll in her Triple Tiara campaign this year. She was out for blood after just missing in the Juvenile Fillies and was completely fired up. She was the center of power in a maelstrom as she pawed the ground and snorted impatiently, tempestuously. She was just so ready to go. Amber Black grinned and tried to curb her own enthusiasm as she waited for their workmate for today. Fire Dancer, daughter of Native Flame and On To Dancing, was the tall intimidating bay mare with two years seniority and a new, powerful punch. She was a stronger runner now than she ever had been and she was absolutely ready to rock this year. Not to mention that the Wire's jockey of the year Krystal Yhate was in the irons and more than determined to bring home victories.
Sadly for her, though, Fire hated Januaries for some reason. She never ran at her best during this month and Krystal Yhate could never figure out why. It wasn't as though she was running against fields that outclassed her. But whatever the case, they would move on and focus in on February races. That was where they had to focus if they wanted success. The story of Fire's rise would start now. Fire pranced sideways once before settling into herself as she strode onto the dirt track. She met Ventura's flashing eyes with a fierce look of her own before completely settling into her usual warm up canter at Krystal's commands. Ven was quick at the uptake, shifting gears to come after them, already challenging them for dominance. And they were only cantering! These two were true blue racehorses.
Ven looked magnificent as she set about doing her job. Her black coat gleamed and her eyes were alight with good health and great spirit. Her hooves were not dainty as they set foot in the dirt track, instead firmly leaving their mark as time went on. She was primed and ready for vengeance. War Cry had taken them out but they would take her out next. The Triple Tiara trail gleamed before them and the desire to win the series was coursing both through her and Amber's veins. How glorious that would be. The daughter of a Triple Crown winner taking the Tiara. As for Fire, she was past such victories. The bay mare had been turned into a marathoner last season but had lost to Instant Success in the final strides. She had recuperated from this loss and was conditioning for future attempts at the young colt's crown. The Marathon would no doubt beckon again at the end of the year and she intended to heed its call.
The pace picked up as the furlongs slipped behind them. Ven and Fire remained neck to neck, unusual behavior for Fire who usually preferred being farther back. But Ven was doing what she did best. She was pushing and teasing Fire to keep up with her fleet hooves or face a crushing defeat. Though to arrogant Ventura, defeat was a guarantee no matter what choice Fire made. Amber clucked once to Ven to pick it up, and pick it up she did. The pair flew into their gallops now, minds keenly attuned to the task. Fire finally dropped back a little bit, letting Ven have the lead. Ven took it as though she was born to it. There was no stopping the black machine up there, and she was looking to widen her lead if at all possible.
Two furlongs slipped by, then four. The pace had settled smoothly into nearly race pace and Ven was leading by half a length. Fire slipped a bit closer to the inside as they wound around a turn, making the most of the smaller trip and crushing Ven to the rail with her intimidating bulk. Ven was not intimidated. She simply increased her pace to maintain the lead and essentially waved her tail in Fire's face. Nostrils flaring, the two fillies sought the stretch and were richly rewarded. The reins were released and the two took off again. Five year old against three year old waged war in the final furlongs. Fire picked up the sweeping charge she was known for around the stables to come down hard on Ven and steal the win by a head. Ven was, of course, much displeased with this turn of events. Vengeance burned in her eyes and was promised in that moment.
Fast as Ven was, she wasn't above being beaten. And as lesser known as Fire was, she had a touch of real class in her that was only going to be known truly this season.
Sadly for her, though, Fire hated Januaries for some reason. She never ran at her best during this month and Krystal Yhate could never figure out why. It wasn't as though she was running against fields that outclassed her. But whatever the case, they would move on and focus in on February races. That was where they had to focus if they wanted success. The story of Fire's rise would start now. Fire pranced sideways once before settling into herself as she strode onto the dirt track. She met Ventura's flashing eyes with a fierce look of her own before completely settling into her usual warm up canter at Krystal's commands. Ven was quick at the uptake, shifting gears to come after them, already challenging them for dominance. And they were only cantering! These two were true blue racehorses.
Ven looked magnificent as she set about doing her job. Her black coat gleamed and her eyes were alight with good health and great spirit. Her hooves were not dainty as they set foot in the dirt track, instead firmly leaving their mark as time went on. She was primed and ready for vengeance. War Cry had taken them out but they would take her out next. The Triple Tiara trail gleamed before them and the desire to win the series was coursing both through her and Amber's veins. How glorious that would be. The daughter of a Triple Crown winner taking the Tiara. As for Fire, she was past such victories. The bay mare had been turned into a marathoner last season but had lost to Instant Success in the final strides. She had recuperated from this loss and was conditioning for future attempts at the young colt's crown. The Marathon would no doubt beckon again at the end of the year and she intended to heed its call.
The pace picked up as the furlongs slipped behind them. Ven and Fire remained neck to neck, unusual behavior for Fire who usually preferred being farther back. But Ven was doing what she did best. She was pushing and teasing Fire to keep up with her fleet hooves or face a crushing defeat. Though to arrogant Ventura, defeat was a guarantee no matter what choice Fire made. Amber clucked once to Ven to pick it up, and pick it up she did. The pair flew into their gallops now, minds keenly attuned to the task. Fire finally dropped back a little bit, letting Ven have the lead. Ven took it as though she was born to it. There was no stopping the black machine up there, and she was looking to widen her lead if at all possible.
Two furlongs slipped by, then four. The pace had settled smoothly into nearly race pace and Ven was leading by half a length. Fire slipped a bit closer to the inside as they wound around a turn, making the most of the smaller trip and crushing Ven to the rail with her intimidating bulk. Ven was not intimidated. She simply increased her pace to maintain the lead and essentially waved her tail in Fire's face. Nostrils flaring, the two fillies sought the stretch and were richly rewarded. The reins were released and the two took off again. Five year old against three year old waged war in the final furlongs. Fire picked up the sweeping charge she was known for around the stables to come down hard on Ven and steal the win by a head. Ven was, of course, much displeased with this turn of events. Vengeance burned in her eyes and was promised in that moment.
Fast as Ven was, she wasn't above being beaten. And as lesser known as Fire was, she had a touch of real class in her that was only going to be known truly this season.