"Stop, stop! Who taught you how to drive?" Tigris shouted, and there was a cursing from the truck as it just narrowly avoided backing the gooseneck into a fence. There was stomping from inside the trailer, and a lone whinny that sparked more from both inside the trailer and from the barn. The truck straightened itself out, finally, and the the ramp was dropped from the outside. The horses picked up their chatter again - they'd had a long ride, and were all antsy to unload. Tigris was still hot, so Minske tapped his shoulder and motioned for the trailer before he went to sign the paperwork. Then he whistled, calling for Hal, who was probably currently sleeping in a stall inside. Perks of being the owner's cousin - not that she wouldn't do it anyway.

They had three knew arrivals, and Minske couldn't be more excited. It was the first deal he'd worked out on his own on the Suhails' behalf, since he'd taken over managing the racing and youngstock. His father still had the training side of things, but more and more couldn't be bothered to deal with the social niceties of the industry. Two of their new animals had come from Grayson Meadows, while a third had hitched a ride from a breaking and starting barn. Devil You Know had been born at Valkyrie, but she'd been so much smaller than many of them that she'd been sent to greener pastures, as it were, to grow up without the competition of the other horses. And that she had. Tigris brought the filly off of the trailer, and her head was high, eyes wide, as she took in her new surroundings. Though she had taken a little longer to mature, she was as strong now as any of their juveniles. Her legs were long, but her chest deep and full. She was light on her toes, skittering down the ramp and smacking her lips around the chain across her gums. She didn't even seem to notice it, pulling Tigris around as she made an effort to see everything around her at once. "Hey Tiggs, handle your horse!" Hal teased, and Tigris only bit back an angry retort because his attention was all caught up in keeping the filly in-hand.

Devil You Know, or Dee, was an interesting, freshly-lined prospect for the farm. Her sire, Dark Charmer, was one that hadn't gotten much attention. They'd just sold the homebred Hurricane, who was actually beginning to pick up as a race gelding, and ironically had replaced him with Dark Charmer's only other two foals. This was the first, a fresh juvenile out of Charity, the dam of their own Chiquato. While he hadn't been raced as fully as some, he hadn't done poorly for himself. They were hoping that if this filly, as a half-sister, did well on the track, it would drum up interest in her stallion brother as well. It was a win-win. As Tigris wrestled her inside and into a stall, Hal tromped up the ramp and opened the back door to get the next horse.

This one was the other filly, the three-year-old daughter of Dark Charmer. Physically, though obviously a little bigger, she was very similar to the juvenile. He was stamping his progeny, at least, and hopefully that would end up being a good thing. Royal Charm was much more been-there, done-that about getting out of the trailer, though she too looked around curiously. As she had come from further than the other filly, her legs were wrapped and her halter was felted, though she didn't seem like the type to hurt herself anyway. The filly was out of Union Jaque, a relatively unknown mare - just the type of lines they liked to get their hands on. She might not have raced much this year - not more than her one win in January, in fact - but she looked tight and fit, ready to go. They obviously hadn't just let the horses out to pasture to get fat, even if they hadn't been racing. The filly gave an exploratory whinny, just testing the waters, and a practical scream rang out from the remaining horse in the trailer. It rocked violently, all stomping hooves and unhappiness in general. "Hold Charm over there, let them walk in together. He sounds like he's going to have an aneurysm," Minske sighed, steeling himself before going in to get potentially the coolest new horse they'd gotten in awhile.

Proletariat had been one of the best juveniles on the track the year before. Being one of the few foals that would come out of Native Harlot, it was incredibly exciting for them that he'd done so well, and that he was here now. He'd gotten a quarter crack early in the year, small but enough to give him as much time as it took to grow his foot out and keep him sound. He was back and ready to go now, as was evident by how strongly he practically pulled Minske out of the trailer, muscle bunching and stretching beneath the sleek bay coat. He trumpeted another whinny, and Charm nickered back. As soon as Proletariat saw the filly he calmed a little, obviously just disliking being on his own in a new environment. The colt butted his head against the man's chest and Minske pushed his strong nose back - time to get them inside before anyone got too rambunctious. All three of the horses were about to turn around and run either their first races or their first races in awhile, and Minske couldn't wait to see what they could do. Even if they couldn't catch up this year, they'd sure as hell be ready for Y18.