She moved with an ease that was admirable even from Connie’s standing point; a filly who’s shoulders drummed with power even in a trot, and quarters rippled with athleticism even in her most relaxed state of movement. Bona Fide was a supreme picture of health, bay coat a charming and sleek mahogany, her eyes always ignited with a spirited blaze. Connie sighed, somewhat unsure of how she felt at the time - becoming lost in the mesmerizing momentum of their most prized thoroughbred as she worked steadily beneath Leo.

“We could X-Ray her if you were worried Connie, but I really believe she’s fighting fit and ready to run,” their vet commented, watching on. “To say she is sound is an understatement. I mean, horses do have their ‘off days’...” Connie’s face tensed obviously in response, she despised that saying. She struggled to believe her filly just had an off day. Bonnie had never had an off day. “You probably just think we are sore losers,” she laughed dryly, working up a half-hearted sense of humour about the situation. Dr Miles smiled, “I think you’re just concerned about her. She had an amazing run this year, I don’t think anybody exected to see her come in 5th. But looking at her now, I don’t see why she can’t come back up to her usual self.”

So that was it then. Bonnie was healthy, and ready to win. Connie shoved her hands in the back of her jeans, moments after waving goodbye to the veterinarian. But she was ready to win last week too. It was a heavy gulp followed by a deep exhale, she knew she needed to get over it, but she wanted some sort of answer. Something to say why their True Enough filly hadn’t worked to her full potential on race day. She didn’t want to see her flogged again, for fear of hurting her confidence. But it was the steady beating of hooves at canter in the near distance that caused her to shuffle onwards, and back to the workout track.

She arrived just in time to see the peak of their gallop, however brief it was; the fillies lower half obscured by a swarming mass of dust that whisked away behind her as she galloped onwards. Oh how she had changed since she first arrived. She recalled her first workout here, and how Leo had explained she didn’t know her own running style and was still trying to find her feet on the track. Now, her style was so strong and so ingrained you could see it in every movement and every reaction. True to her stubborn and dominant nature, Bonnie was a Front Runner in every definition of the word; the moment those gates broke she pushed forwards to find her comfort zone and fought to maintain it. A sight to behold, there was nothing quite like watching a horse who had so rapidly gone from average to incredible.

“I say we enter her,” Leo panted as her walked her through the gate, relaxing the reins in his hands and giving the filly a firm pat on the crest of her neck. It seemed he expected Connie to argue, but she simply nodded, looking away just in time to miss the red-heads cheeky half-smile. Leo dismounted mid-stride whilst Bona Fide continued to walk back to the wash bays (there was never any use in trying to stop her, it was a fight not worth starting) and flung the back of his hand playfully at Connies shoulder. “Hey! She’s going to do great, I can feel it.”