JUNE WEEK ONE Y13
dEMONIC dESIRES & sUGAR jAYDE.
fLEET mAJESTY & lYNARA'S kINGDOM.
oDE tO gLORY & iTALIAN iCE.
aXIS mUNDAE & iN tHE sPOTLIGHT.
demonic jayde.
Demonic Desires and Amber Black.
Sugar Jayde and Henna Turath.
The son of Speed Demon and Deadly Desires strutted as though he knew his own parentage. He was sleek and muscular, and his eyes roved with as much focus as a young juvenile colt could be capable of. They rolled as he felt the turf under his hooves, and then focused ahead again as his body danced sideways and his blood soared with the thrill of running close at hand. Demonic Desires could be a scary colt to ride. His parents had been nothing short of blazing with speed and Demon was no exception. He was bloody quick, a ride that usually had Amber Black holding on for her life. To harness such speed was taking a lot of skill. They had never placed lower than second but were currently suffering from a seconditus streak like no other. Just one more win and the colt would be grade four. He had big races coming up and needed to be ready.
Sweetheart of the barn Sugar Jayde pranced onto the turf after him. She was a distant relative of Demon, but acted nothing like him. She was sweet as sugar and a beautiful bay with a lovely heart shaped marking on her forehead, courtesy of Akita Rose's top broodmare Queen of Hearts. This lady was a born turf sprinter who had always shown promise. She had won multiple awards as a prospect, proved herself the top turf sprinter of her division as a juvenile...and then lost the class as a three year old. She had still taken a Breeders Cup race at the end of the year against a stablemate, but her season had been lacking in class. Then this year Jayde had turned around again. At four years old the grade one mare was a seasoned veteran of the racetrack and the winners' circle. Not every horse made it to grade one, and now she was one of them. And miraculously this season she had only lost two races, firmly reasserting her place in the division.
Jayde eyed Demon almost warily, then decided to ignore him. She practically purred as Henna played with her black mane, her rider grinning at her sweet tempered ways. She had ridden Jayde ever since she had stepped foot on the track and knew her so well that as they moved off to warm up no cues needed to be given. Henna and Jayde functioned as a single unit. Demon was all ears on the pretty bay mare. He snorted and nearly reared, but Amber held him in check and murmured to him. The black colt's ears flicked back as he listened, and then he snorted, swished his tail and exploded into his warm up canter after Jayde. Amber sighed and kept the juvenile calm as he could. He was more highly strung than some. His teeth were bared as he neared Jayde and Amber kept him away with a jerk of the reins. A furlong passed before he began to focus on what he was actually doing.
The pair accelerated further until they were galloping along the track. They were both used to being near the pace and merely accepted each other's presence at the front of the pack. Demon charged, almost annoyed at having the sweet bay mare next to him, while Jayde royall ignored his discomfort and was gleeful as she swallowed up the turf beneath her hooves. It only took four furlongs for the pair to be blitzing, and when they did it was beautiful. Demon and Jayde swept along the track in neat, quick strides, all focus, speed and power on the task. Their riders let them out more and more as the wind sang in their hooves and hearts and manes. A mile had passed before the pair was pulled up, barely panting happy and content. They could really move. Amber patted Demon's neck with a smile on her face, while Henna's face was firmly set. They were out to improve and get those wins back that they richly desired and even deserved.
Sweetheart of the barn Sugar Jayde pranced onto the turf after him. She was a distant relative of Demon, but acted nothing like him. She was sweet as sugar and a beautiful bay with a lovely heart shaped marking on her forehead, courtesy of Akita Rose's top broodmare Queen of Hearts. This lady was a born turf sprinter who had always shown promise. She had won multiple awards as a prospect, proved herself the top turf sprinter of her division as a juvenile...and then lost the class as a three year old. She had still taken a Breeders Cup race at the end of the year against a stablemate, but her season had been lacking in class. Then this year Jayde had turned around again. At four years old the grade one mare was a seasoned veteran of the racetrack and the winners' circle. Not every horse made it to grade one, and now she was one of them. And miraculously this season she had only lost two races, firmly reasserting her place in the division.
Jayde eyed Demon almost warily, then decided to ignore him. She practically purred as Henna played with her black mane, her rider grinning at her sweet tempered ways. She had ridden Jayde ever since she had stepped foot on the track and knew her so well that as they moved off to warm up no cues needed to be given. Henna and Jayde functioned as a single unit. Demon was all ears on the pretty bay mare. He snorted and nearly reared, but Amber held him in check and murmured to him. The black colt's ears flicked back as he listened, and then he snorted, swished his tail and exploded into his warm up canter after Jayde. Amber sighed and kept the juvenile calm as he could. He was more highly strung than some. His teeth were bared as he neared Jayde and Amber kept him away with a jerk of the reins. A furlong passed before he began to focus on what he was actually doing.
The pair accelerated further until they were galloping along the track. They were both used to being near the pace and merely accepted each other's presence at the front of the pack. Demon charged, almost annoyed at having the sweet bay mare next to him, while Jayde royall ignored his discomfort and was gleeful as she swallowed up the turf beneath her hooves. It only took four furlongs for the pair to be blitzing, and when they did it was beautiful. Demon and Jayde swept along the track in neat, quick strides, all focus, speed and power on the task. Their riders let them out more and more as the wind sang in their hooves and hearts and manes. A mile had passed before the pair was pulled up, barely panting happy and content. They could really move. Amber patted Demon's neck with a smile on her face, while Henna's face was firmly set. They were out to improve and get those wins back that they richly desired and even deserved.
Her Majesty Speaks.
Fleet Majesty and Amber Black.
Lynara's Kingdom and Krystal Yhate.
Be careful there - she's really not like the other horses you've ridden Amber Black cautioned from her spot aboard Fleet Majesty. Krystal Yhate nodded back, her expression delighted as she carefully walked Lynara's Kingdom out. The daughter of With A Snap and Sophie Might was hers for a workout and she was just tickled by the feeling that gave her. Amber let nobody aboard the volatile four year old and Krystal felt honored to be chosen for it. There was truly no better workout partner for Mage anyway, who was facing down a field in the Duchess Stakes. The gray filly had improved by a lot with them and was aiming onwards to big and better things. She had a great shot at taking the Duchess Stakes, the last leg of the Turf Triple Tiara. She just kept getting better with each race that she ran, and here on the SOPS turf she had been working against the best. Amber had been taking her for long, meandering gallops along their new, hilly cross country turf course and it showed. Mage was buzzing energy and focus. She was ready to go.
Krystal let Lynara guide herself out onto the turf track. The expressionless mare hardly seemed to realize she had a workout partner today. The attitude she chose to exhibit was cold and indifferent, and this attitude changed by the day. Riding Lynara was extremely difficult, hence Krystal's surprise that she had been chosen to work the sprinter-miler against Mage for Mage's final Duchess prep. The gray mare had risen from a lackluster two year old to a mare that had won precisely half of her career starts and was currently running another championship season. Nobody had expected this amazing improvement from her, yet here it was. The gray mare was going places and she planned to tug Fleet Majesty along in her slipstream. She was here today to school Mage in the ways of speed. Such lessons could be essential for future races.
Mage danced back and forth on the turf, practically purring as Amber ran her through a warm up jog and canter. She was light on her hooves and full of energy. Her second in the Cotillion had placed her ahead of grade two stablemate Innocent Passion. That was class, especially for a mere grade five. The Duchess was her next opportunity to hit grade four territory and she wasn't going to let it go easily. Amber smiled as she felt the filly's canter. It was energetic, light, and ready to go. Lynara glided alongside them, more ghost than horse, a fixture of her surroundings. An entity untouchable by Krystal. Krystal felt Lynara could care less who was on her back as long as she got to do what she wanted, when she wanted. She had a powerful way of moving that threatened without threatening. Gorgeous to the brim.
The two grays challenged each other faster. They entered separate gallops now, Lynara flaming to life and sprinting off at the command to gallop. Krystal was nearly blown back with surprise. What horse could switch not only gear but attitude so quickly? She clung on and let Lynara run. Mage tracked the older mare, the thrill of the hunt soaring in both hers and Amber's chests. Amber knew how Lynara ran and she knew Lynara was in headlong flight and wouldn't settle for at least a furlong. So she tracked, letting Mage fall back as Lynara ran until a ten length lead was firmly established for them as Lynara settled. And then she asked for movement, and got her response.
Mage stretched out comfortably, eyes on the prize. She bounded up with effortless strides that only grew stronger as the furlongs passed. She was game to go on and go on she did. Nothing would stop the sudden freight train of speed that carried her towards Lynara. The gap disappeared as did seven furlongs, and then Lynara came back to life and with the ease of an experienced champion bounded away again. But even as Mage was left behind, Amber knew there was nothing but benefits from this. They weren't at Lynara's level yet, but sooner rather than later they would be. Mage was moving great and developing exponentially. This was only the beginning of her worthwhile and soon-to-be illustrious career.
Krystal let Lynara guide herself out onto the turf track. The expressionless mare hardly seemed to realize she had a workout partner today. The attitude she chose to exhibit was cold and indifferent, and this attitude changed by the day. Riding Lynara was extremely difficult, hence Krystal's surprise that she had been chosen to work the sprinter-miler against Mage for Mage's final Duchess prep. The gray mare had risen from a lackluster two year old to a mare that had won precisely half of her career starts and was currently running another championship season. Nobody had expected this amazing improvement from her, yet here it was. The gray mare was going places and she planned to tug Fleet Majesty along in her slipstream. She was here today to school Mage in the ways of speed. Such lessons could be essential for future races.
Mage danced back and forth on the turf, practically purring as Amber ran her through a warm up jog and canter. She was light on her hooves and full of energy. Her second in the Cotillion had placed her ahead of grade two stablemate Innocent Passion. That was class, especially for a mere grade five. The Duchess was her next opportunity to hit grade four territory and she wasn't going to let it go easily. Amber smiled as she felt the filly's canter. It was energetic, light, and ready to go. Lynara glided alongside them, more ghost than horse, a fixture of her surroundings. An entity untouchable by Krystal. Krystal felt Lynara could care less who was on her back as long as she got to do what she wanted, when she wanted. She had a powerful way of moving that threatened without threatening. Gorgeous to the brim.
The two grays challenged each other faster. They entered separate gallops now, Lynara flaming to life and sprinting off at the command to gallop. Krystal was nearly blown back with surprise. What horse could switch not only gear but attitude so quickly? She clung on and let Lynara run. Mage tracked the older mare, the thrill of the hunt soaring in both hers and Amber's chests. Amber knew how Lynara ran and she knew Lynara was in headlong flight and wouldn't settle for at least a furlong. So she tracked, letting Mage fall back as Lynara ran until a ten length lead was firmly established for them as Lynara settled. And then she asked for movement, and got her response.
Mage stretched out comfortably, eyes on the prize. She bounded up with effortless strides that only grew stronger as the furlongs passed. She was game to go on and go on she did. Nothing would stop the sudden freight train of speed that carried her towards Lynara. The gap disappeared as did seven furlongs, and then Lynara came back to life and with the ease of an experienced champion bounded away again. But even as Mage was left behind, Amber knew there was nothing but benefits from this. They weren't at Lynara's level yet, but sooner rather than later they would be. Mage was moving great and developing exponentially. This was only the beginning of her worthwhile and soon-to-be illustrious career.
Not Allowed.
Ode To Glory and Krystal Yhate.
Italian Ice and Valencia Andrews.
There was nothing less than grim purpose on the faces of every SOPS rider as they worked the horses this morning. Their thoughts were perhaps on a single race - the Belmont Turf Classic. There was a Turf Triple Crown on the line for the first time in a couple of years. Bella Luna and Witch Creek could be the first to sweep the series. To SOPS, winning the Belmont Turf Classic was a matter of personal pride. SOPS had long since specialized on the turf surface. Horses had come forth in their colors every year to vie for the crown. Wildly Natural had taken two legs before falling second in the Turf Classic. Foolish Lad had one the Open and the Turf Classic, failing only with a second place finish in the Preakness Champion. There had even been a year when an SOPS bred horse had won each leg. But never had a single horse of theirs managed to take each and every race.
Amber Black would be damned if she let Witch Creek beat her to it.
She had focused very carefully on the training of their two hopefuls over the past two weeks, making sure they were in prime condition. Ode To Glory had been running a rough season. He seemed to be set on proving that his Juvenile Turf win was just a fluke. But there had been real class that day, and he had come out of nowhere to dead heat for that victory. Nobody had expected that. And after his third in the Preakness Champion Stakes, it was likely nobody would expect much of him on race day. But that was where they were wrong. Amber had been training turf horses for the longest time and she knew her stuff with them. Ode wasn't untalented. He was just inconsistent. The odds had been against him for long enough. It was extremely likely that the Belmont Turf Classic would be a coming out for the colt, who always knew when to make it count the most. And it was in this race that they needed a lot from him. Since his Preakness Champion run Ode had been different. He had perked up a bit in workouts and shown a fiercer spirit than his usual kindred nature. His times had been getting better and he looked amazing. Nearly seventeen hands of gray thoroughbred muscle, vigor and concealed talent. Krystal could feel it roiling beneath her and grinned. This was the Ode she had been missing since the Breeders Cup.
Italian Ice was the black daughter of Impressario and Cute Italian who had only just been returned to the stable. She had stayed with them to win the Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf over the same filly who was currently threatening the Turf Triple Crown sweep. And now she was back and had declared her dominance with a smashing victory just last week in the Summer Cup. The run had been necessary to get Icee back into the swing of racing after a bit of a layoff and she had run the race perfectly. She was completely ready to go and had been very lightly raced this season. As such, she was limber and not tired in the least. Last week's race had perked her up a bit, and Amber thought it had even caused her to peak right now, at the right time. Valencia was thrilled to be aboard the filly's back. Icee reminded her a lot of herself. She was ambitious, talented and never took second easily. She always wanted the win. Valencia united with the filly in this respect, and that was why they got along. With similarly languid and arrogant expressions they raked the turf track in front of them, ready to raze it into the ground just as they had done last December.
Amber knew that she had two powerful three year olds going up against Bella Luna and she felt confident that they would put up a powerful fight. If Bella Luna wanted the Crown, she would have to work her butt off for it. Harder than they were currently working. Icee and Ode were fit and ready for the twelve furlong test. The marathon distance was bred into both of them, with parents being known routers and winners at this distance. The pedigree was buoyed up by past successes and by current training techniques. They had been doing multiple mile gallops over SOPS's new turf oval that extended around the property, with light uphills and downhills and amazing potential for increasing stamina. It was possible for Amber to further expand her turf program with it and that was exciting stuff. But for now she focused on Icee and Ode. Icee was strutting out on the turf with her usual arrogance, a cocky smirk on her jockey's face. Ode and Krystal moved in tandem, a single unit of horse and rider. A union she had not seen to this level with them before. They were furthering their bond, and that only meant good things.
She watched as they accelerated into a canter, remaining level. Icee's was a bound that screamed classic talent. It was beautiful. Ode's was a lope, something vaguely similar to Infini's. He was in no hurry and the way he settled down indicated great stamina. Icee's was more purely speed, but she had proven she could go the distance as well. When they accelerated to a gallop Icee took off, black muscles bulging as she hopped away neatly. Ode was not far behind. No longer did he passively let horses run all over him. No, now he fought back despite his laid-back style. He ran actively, not passively. He took position three lengths off and stayed there stubbornly. Icee could not shake him off. He was like a leach on her skin, something impossible to ignore, just close enough to threaten. It was perfect positioning. Krystal felt the hunger welling within her. It had been too long since the two had tasted victory and the glory of the winners' circle. Too long.
Icee was feeling smooth and ready to roll. Valencia rated her carefully and cut to the inside, her favorite spot directly on the rail where only horses bearing down on the outside could get them. She smirked cheekily as seven furlongs elapses and the sound of Ode's hooves grew louder. They were coming. She whispered a word and urged Icee on. Icee responded strongly, pulling away just as Ode came flickering up alongside, eyes gleaming. She put a length of distance back, but Ode responded powerfully with a sudden move that swept him past Icee. He was born by his desire for victory, but so was Icee. Vengeance sang in the blood of the two thoroughbreds as they challenged each other right to the wire. Righteous duty spurred their riders into sharing an intense look of understanding. It was not allowed for them to face defeat and the Crown to be worn by another. Not now. Not on the turf. And as Amber looked out over them, she felt their conviction match her own, and smiled with pride.
Amber Black would be damned if she let Witch Creek beat her to it.
She had focused very carefully on the training of their two hopefuls over the past two weeks, making sure they were in prime condition. Ode To Glory had been running a rough season. He seemed to be set on proving that his Juvenile Turf win was just a fluke. But there had been real class that day, and he had come out of nowhere to dead heat for that victory. Nobody had expected that. And after his third in the Preakness Champion Stakes, it was likely nobody would expect much of him on race day. But that was where they were wrong. Amber had been training turf horses for the longest time and she knew her stuff with them. Ode wasn't untalented. He was just inconsistent. The odds had been against him for long enough. It was extremely likely that the Belmont Turf Classic would be a coming out for the colt, who always knew when to make it count the most. And it was in this race that they needed a lot from him. Since his Preakness Champion run Ode had been different. He had perked up a bit in workouts and shown a fiercer spirit than his usual kindred nature. His times had been getting better and he looked amazing. Nearly seventeen hands of gray thoroughbred muscle, vigor and concealed talent. Krystal could feel it roiling beneath her and grinned. This was the Ode she had been missing since the Breeders Cup.
Italian Ice was the black daughter of Impressario and Cute Italian who had only just been returned to the stable. She had stayed with them to win the Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf over the same filly who was currently threatening the Turf Triple Crown sweep. And now she was back and had declared her dominance with a smashing victory just last week in the Summer Cup. The run had been necessary to get Icee back into the swing of racing after a bit of a layoff and she had run the race perfectly. She was completely ready to go and had been very lightly raced this season. As such, she was limber and not tired in the least. Last week's race had perked her up a bit, and Amber thought it had even caused her to peak right now, at the right time. Valencia was thrilled to be aboard the filly's back. Icee reminded her a lot of herself. She was ambitious, talented and never took second easily. She always wanted the win. Valencia united with the filly in this respect, and that was why they got along. With similarly languid and arrogant expressions they raked the turf track in front of them, ready to raze it into the ground just as they had done last December.
Amber knew that she had two powerful three year olds going up against Bella Luna and she felt confident that they would put up a powerful fight. If Bella Luna wanted the Crown, she would have to work her butt off for it. Harder than they were currently working. Icee and Ode were fit and ready for the twelve furlong test. The marathon distance was bred into both of them, with parents being known routers and winners at this distance. The pedigree was buoyed up by past successes and by current training techniques. They had been doing multiple mile gallops over SOPS's new turf oval that extended around the property, with light uphills and downhills and amazing potential for increasing stamina. It was possible for Amber to further expand her turf program with it and that was exciting stuff. But for now she focused on Icee and Ode. Icee was strutting out on the turf with her usual arrogance, a cocky smirk on her jockey's face. Ode and Krystal moved in tandem, a single unit of horse and rider. A union she had not seen to this level with them before. They were furthering their bond, and that only meant good things.
She watched as they accelerated into a canter, remaining level. Icee's was a bound that screamed classic talent. It was beautiful. Ode's was a lope, something vaguely similar to Infini's. He was in no hurry and the way he settled down indicated great stamina. Icee's was more purely speed, but she had proven she could go the distance as well. When they accelerated to a gallop Icee took off, black muscles bulging as she hopped away neatly. Ode was not far behind. No longer did he passively let horses run all over him. No, now he fought back despite his laid-back style. He ran actively, not passively. He took position three lengths off and stayed there stubbornly. Icee could not shake him off. He was like a leach on her skin, something impossible to ignore, just close enough to threaten. It was perfect positioning. Krystal felt the hunger welling within her. It had been too long since the two had tasted victory and the glory of the winners' circle. Too long.
Icee was feeling smooth and ready to roll. Valencia rated her carefully and cut to the inside, her favorite spot directly on the rail where only horses bearing down on the outside could get them. She smirked cheekily as seven furlongs elapses and the sound of Ode's hooves grew louder. They were coming. She whispered a word and urged Icee on. Icee responded strongly, pulling away just as Ode came flickering up alongside, eyes gleaming. She put a length of distance back, but Ode responded powerfully with a sudden move that swept him past Icee. He was born by his desire for victory, but so was Icee. Vengeance sang in the blood of the two thoroughbreds as they challenged each other right to the wire. Righteous duty spurred their riders into sharing an intense look of understanding. It was not allowed for them to face defeat and the Crown to be worn by another. Not now. Not on the turf. And as Amber looked out over them, she felt their conviction match her own, and smiled with pride.
Innately Being.
Axis Mundae and Amber Black.
In The Spotlight and Valencia Andrews.
The bold, cunning black mare eyed her chestnut competition with the confidence of a seasoned racehorse. The daughter of Little Miss Innocent and Warlock was having a grand time on the track these days. She was a veteran of the turf sprints and miles and she showed it with each race she ran. With no place lower than second yet this year, Axis Mundae was running her best season, which was fitting considering it was the five year old's last one. Amber guided the burly black mare with the light of affection shining in her gaze. This was a mare she had ridden ever since she was a yearling. She was a homebred and hometrained and had never left the residence of her stall at SOPS. She was one of Amber's leaders in the turf sprint division, here to train a new generation of champions.
That new generation began with In The Spotlight. The beautiful chestnut juvenile moved like a dancer, graceful and with tail twirling majestically in the breeze. The winner of five races looked magnificent, especially off of her flashy victory in the Sanford Stakes over her competition. Valencia's smirk appeared permanently etched in place on her face as she rode the prancing chestnut forward. Sensing the track was near, Innie was all afire. She danced, pranced, bucked and even did a half rear. Anything to have the attention on her. Valencia smiled affectionately and rubbed her neck. While some of the fun in racing had gone with Fly By Darkness, they still had Innie and plenty other energizer bunnies roaming around the grounds. It was high time for Innie to get some mentoring from the experienced Axia. She had requested this workout herself so as to ascertain what needed more work for Innie in preparation for future juvenile turf challenges.
Axia's specialty lay in her staying speed. The mare had been raced as a predominant turf sprinter for her career, but was now showing definitive talent at the mile. Amber had noticed this and developed it, and now Axia was ready to try for it. The turf sprints were the domain of Sugar Jayde now and Axia was ready to increase the distance just as she had in the Juvenile Turf three years ago. Innie was pure router, and her path lay in the Turf Triple Crown or Turf Triple Tiara next year, depending on if Innie continued performing well. Valencia had full intentions to continue the streak. She eyed her competition warily as Innie continued to act like the young horse she was. Axia was smooth and cool, almost predatory, out here on her home domain. Innie was not picking up on the serious demeanor and Valencia nearly giggled at how oblivious her filly could be to competition.
The two thoroughbreds accelerated side by side to a rolling canter. Innie was a bit more focused now, her eyes flicking briefly to the black mare rocking at her side, but she merely seemed to shrug off the black like an annoying fly and resumed tossing her head, making a show out of herself. Amber grinned at Innie's antics, wondering if she would always be like that or if she would become more serious as time progressed and her experience grew. Axia was serious beneath her, her mind on the work ahead. The canter was a warm up and Axia rocked it with confident, strong strides. She was aware of Innie at her side but had dismissed her already. She would simply have to run fast if she wanted any attention.
The canter became a gallop. Innie accelerated the quickest, her burst of speed expected by the waiting Valencia who smoothly went with it. Innie poured it on early in the race, and she first quarter was usually wickedly fast before she settled to more reasonable fractions by the half. Axia was quick as always on the uptake. The usually closer mare had the ability to run any style, and she picked stalker to as to observe the chestnut filly more closely. Innie was bounding along well within herself maybe a length ahead, and Axia stalked from behind with eyes glued on her targets. As the furlongs passed Innie's stride just grew stronger and stronger. The routes were bred into the chestnut. Axia's conditioning was able enough to keep her with the juvenile. Amber waited and waited for the opportune moment to pounce.
The final turn was it. She barely moved on Axia as she asked and received speed. Axia became a black blur, her legs churning as she seared the turf in a huge move. She bore down on Innie and tore past the chestnut. Valencia asked and now Innie responded, fiercely. Her spotlight had been stolen and she wanted it back. She raced after the barreling Axia, slipping behind and then rocking to the inside. She shot up, showing some real mettle, and Amber was impressed. Axia was taking Innie seriously now, and lengthened her stride. She fully wanted to bury the talented filly. They were running fast and Innie was pressed to keep up. The wire saved her from falling behind. But as the black and chestnut blurs flashed beneath the wire, Valencia felt the future underneath and Amber felt the passing of a torch to the next generation of SOPS turfers.
That new generation began with In The Spotlight. The beautiful chestnut juvenile moved like a dancer, graceful and with tail twirling majestically in the breeze. The winner of five races looked magnificent, especially off of her flashy victory in the Sanford Stakes over her competition. Valencia's smirk appeared permanently etched in place on her face as she rode the prancing chestnut forward. Sensing the track was near, Innie was all afire. She danced, pranced, bucked and even did a half rear. Anything to have the attention on her. Valencia smiled affectionately and rubbed her neck. While some of the fun in racing had gone with Fly By Darkness, they still had Innie and plenty other energizer bunnies roaming around the grounds. It was high time for Innie to get some mentoring from the experienced Axia. She had requested this workout herself so as to ascertain what needed more work for Innie in preparation for future juvenile turf challenges.
Axia's specialty lay in her staying speed. The mare had been raced as a predominant turf sprinter for her career, but was now showing definitive talent at the mile. Amber had noticed this and developed it, and now Axia was ready to try for it. The turf sprints were the domain of Sugar Jayde now and Axia was ready to increase the distance just as she had in the Juvenile Turf three years ago. Innie was pure router, and her path lay in the Turf Triple Crown or Turf Triple Tiara next year, depending on if Innie continued performing well. Valencia had full intentions to continue the streak. She eyed her competition warily as Innie continued to act like the young horse she was. Axia was smooth and cool, almost predatory, out here on her home domain. Innie was not picking up on the serious demeanor and Valencia nearly giggled at how oblivious her filly could be to competition.
The two thoroughbreds accelerated side by side to a rolling canter. Innie was a bit more focused now, her eyes flicking briefly to the black mare rocking at her side, but she merely seemed to shrug off the black like an annoying fly and resumed tossing her head, making a show out of herself. Amber grinned at Innie's antics, wondering if she would always be like that or if she would become more serious as time progressed and her experience grew. Axia was serious beneath her, her mind on the work ahead. The canter was a warm up and Axia rocked it with confident, strong strides. She was aware of Innie at her side but had dismissed her already. She would simply have to run fast if she wanted any attention.
The canter became a gallop. Innie accelerated the quickest, her burst of speed expected by the waiting Valencia who smoothly went with it. Innie poured it on early in the race, and she first quarter was usually wickedly fast before she settled to more reasonable fractions by the half. Axia was quick as always on the uptake. The usually closer mare had the ability to run any style, and she picked stalker to as to observe the chestnut filly more closely. Innie was bounding along well within herself maybe a length ahead, and Axia stalked from behind with eyes glued on her targets. As the furlongs passed Innie's stride just grew stronger and stronger. The routes were bred into the chestnut. Axia's conditioning was able enough to keep her with the juvenile. Amber waited and waited for the opportune moment to pounce.
The final turn was it. She barely moved on Axia as she asked and received speed. Axia became a black blur, her legs churning as she seared the turf in a huge move. She bore down on Innie and tore past the chestnut. Valencia asked and now Innie responded, fiercely. Her spotlight had been stolen and she wanted it back. She raced after the barreling Axia, slipping behind and then rocking to the inside. She shot up, showing some real mettle, and Amber was impressed. Axia was taking Innie seriously now, and lengthened her stride. She fully wanted to bury the talented filly. They were running fast and Innie was pressed to keep up. The wire saved her from falling behind. But as the black and chestnut blurs flashed beneath the wire, Valencia felt the future underneath and Amber felt the passing of a torch to the next generation of SOPS turfers.