Minske looked like a commander reviewing his troops as he rode onto the track ahead of the Firestone juveniles, reins easy in one hand and nearly guiding the horse completely with his knees. That was the upside to having a four-year-old colt who hadn't spent his early years racing - Sunny might have been a trail horse by now if he wasn't so ungodly fast over the turf. The unassuming bay looked over the track with interest but no over-the-top excitement, his mind working quickly and calmly no matter the situation. When they got to the track on race day they'd see a very different animal, but for now the jockey could be blissfully ignorant of the bull-headed animal Sunny was capable of being. He was one of three horses that would run their debut under Perennial Racing's black and white silks early Y18, and he definitely had an interesting pedigree to work from. He was by a stallion from the original Valkyrie Stables called Spartan Heat, a colt that hadn't had time to get his legs under him before the farm had been dispersed. When those horses had been found and brought back under the blue and purple, Larsa hadn't hesitated to make room for the strong chestnut stallion in the roster. He'd been matched to an interesting mare, Blue Sunshine, who produced the Boys' Party winner Seattle Sun, who himself produced nice filly True Sunrise in his first crop. If he could do the things Minske was sure he was capable of, he would be an incredible addition to the overall gene pool. He, like all of the horses at PRS, would be sold at the end of his career at the latest. It was bittersweet to know even before you started that you'd be parting, but it was also exciting to know the kind of impact he might make for another stable. Plus, they'd still get a breeding to him down the road, and that was at least a consolation for the people that put so much work into him.

And now, for the first time, they also had horses from another farm shipped in for some last-minute prep work before the season started. One of them was actually exciting for the farm's staff to be able to work with - the colt Mudslide, first foal to race of Valkyrie's own Greater Avalanche. The spitfire colt had lived on the farm until he'd been weaned and sent to Firestone, and they all still remembered the neurotic dark grey that had now matured into a very strong animal. He didn't have much by way of pedigree, as both of his parents were unproven, but the look in that dark eye promised that it wouldn't be that way for long. He was a legacy, a first heir, and he was likely to shake things up. He was hot under Hal, who was working with him while he was on property, mouth gaping and working against the bit agitatedly until he was allowed to follow the older bay out onto the track. Hal sat through his growls and head-tossing, ignoring his attitude and redirecting his energy after the older colt, who had ignored him completely. They were followed closely by the final horse of the group - the gorgeous red Royal Witch, who was already eagerly on the bit and rolling her eyes at the expanse of track laid out before her.

Dhalia, as she was called, was the full sister to Firestone's successful racehorse Devil's Blessing, and she had a hellcat's personality to match. She'd been a handful since arriving on the farm, irritable whenever handled and rude when given the chance, but that was pretty par for the course. Thoroughbreds, right? But she was muscled, running close to the ground like a bull, all power and unapologetic heart. She was undoubtedly fiercer than either of the other two on love of the chase alone, a greyhound frothing after a rabbit. After the work, Tigris would pat her neck, proclaiming her to be an absolute beast. She'd be dancing, bright-eyed, ready for another round. It was odd, getting an up-close look at the competition ahead of time, but realistically they all knew how competitive the industry was becoming. The horses were stronger, there were more of them in the game, and more players as well. It was incredibly exciting, and offered so many new opportunities - like this one. Time would tell whether these jockeys would have bragging rights over riding the next new thing before they'd even hit the track.

As for Minske, he'd learned more of what he'd already known. Sunny was a professional already, but not so dead to it that he didn't buzz with excitement to keep up with the younger horses as they worked along. Race day would add yet another level, and Sunny had incredible value as a sprinter. Especially at the lower levels, he wouldn't have the jitters that the younger horses did. They were counting on it, since he only had three years to make his mark - hopefully more than enough to impress a potential buyer.