Post by ripley on Dec 23, 2017 21:58:13 GMT -6
My Soldier
Straton jockeyed by Brookson Wells
Tainted Love jockeyed by Reese Balling Jones
A heavy fog was settled over the track when Ripley slipped between the bleachers to watch her first scheduled morning workout... or attempt to anyway. It was warm for a winter day. The snow that had fallen during the night was already close to melted, leaving puddles of water all the way from the barns to the track. The water reflected the heavy gray sky that promised to dump snow throughout the day should the temperature drop just enough. Ripley aimed the stink eye at the clouds, determined to not let her training be delayed. They had an indoor track at home at least, but when they were at The Wire, they were at the mercy of the track maintenance crew.
Ripley linked her hands together, squinting to view the horses that passed by. She sighed, knowing that her view of the horses would be limited. It wasn't a huge deal because she had excellent staff who were more than capable of telling whether a horse was ready or needed to be backed off of training. She pursed her lips, remembering that next year, she might be back in the exercise saddle again. Two kids and she was done. That was enough. She wanted her horses and as much of her original career as possible. She was an ambitious woman, a woman hungry for success and she wanted it in all functions of her complicated life. Brooks would just have to deal with that fact.
Brooks was unaware that Ripley was hardening up her argument against him, an argument that wouldn't really come to fruition. He was much to busy dealing with a high strung bay colt. Straton carried himself like a taunt spring about to snap. His muscular body moved with power and focus, with nary a hoof out of place. The unmarked colt's ears were pricked up to listen through the heavy fog. He was a brave soldier, willing to progress even though he couldn't see much more than a hundred yards ahead of him. Brooks risked a quick pat, felt the strain on the reins when Straton found the weak point and vowed to not do that again this morning. Gritting his teeth, Brooks jerked the reins to remind Straton that he wasn't large and in charge, that some accommodations needed to be made for the slim human on his back.
Reese moved with the rhythm of the big, black colt beneath her. She wondered if this is how Maggie had felt aboard the robust Vagabond in his racing days. She wondered if this is how Tainted Love's half-sisters on the sire's side had felt. Raw talent reverberated from the towering beast, giving Reese the near certainty that his great-grandsire Night Stalker was in him somewhere. All of the Night Stalker types tended to sucker punch you with their natural abilities. While Straton powered through the leathers that denied him further extension, Tainted Love galloped with ease. His coal black ears flickered over his head, unconcerned with his fiery workmate or the fact that they were working with little vision.
Brooks let Straton take the clubhouse turn wide, aiming to slow his charge and achieving the goal. Straton came off the bridle momentarily, but moments later he snorted when Tainted Love rounded up to his broad shoulder. Straton was a fighter deep in his core. Brooks nodded to Reese and the female jock returned the gesture. Usually, Ripley's voice would crackle in their heads to tell them when to pick it up, but they were on their own today... as on their own as the seven year assistant trainer and tenured jockey could be. "At the half mile marker, let him go," Brooks said.
The greatest irony about the duo was their personalities and respective running styles. While Straton was on the muscle, he was more likely to fall back in the pack and then to drag his rider forward into the melee. Tainted Love, easygoing as a labrador retriever, simply had too much natural speed to lay back off the pace. The duo were perfect for each other in that sense. Taint gave Straton pace to run into and Taint taught Straton how to battle and how not to be intimidated. Frankly, Taint was an intimidating creature, even at the age of two. Any behemoth that was 16.3 hands and still growing ought to strike fear in his competition.
At the half mile pole, Reese tightened her hold and sent Taint forward. The coal black animal leaped into the bridle as if he'd been waiting for this cue all along and drew off to a quick two length lead over Straton. Straton's head flew in the air briefly in surprise, but soon he recognized the game. At Brook's chirp, the unmarked horse lowered his head and powered forward, ears pinned to his neck. Brooks tracked Taint's big, beautiful behind, but knew watching him would not help him with his internal clock. Taint moved with discerning ease and could fool a man into insultingly slow fractions in the mornings.
Reese shook the reins a little, knowing that Taint was gliding through the fraction with minimal effort. She could hear the quick hoofbeats of Straton behind them and knew the foe would be upon them as soon as they hit the end of the far turn. Straton did not have the early speed of Taint, but he had a late kick mean enough to break a few hearts. She leaned low to Tainted Love's neck, keeping her hands and feet quiet for the moment.
At the turn, Brooks sent Straton flying and the brown horse responded with a fury. He gripped the bit between his teeth and roared forward with all of his promised strength. In a matter of three strides, Straton was upon Taint. The black horse pinned his ears at the sight of his rival and from that moment, it was game on.
The duo pounded the dirt impressively as they rolled from turn to homestretch, their muscles contracting and releasing emphatically as they each tried to one up the other. Neither Reese nor Brooks could clock this late stretch because the turn of foot on both equine's part was so blistering. Taint would get a nose down and then Straton would get his. Heads bobbing, the pair streaked through the wire. Ripley, unbeknownst to the riders, had caught the stretch run in a blazing time. Although she was annoyed by the fog, at least she wouldn't be questioned on the pair of rockets she was about to unleash over the dirt.
Straton jockeyed by Brookson Wells
Tainted Love jockeyed by Reese Balling Jones
A heavy fog was settled over the track when Ripley slipped between the bleachers to watch her first scheduled morning workout... or attempt to anyway. It was warm for a winter day. The snow that had fallen during the night was already close to melted, leaving puddles of water all the way from the barns to the track. The water reflected the heavy gray sky that promised to dump snow throughout the day should the temperature drop just enough. Ripley aimed the stink eye at the clouds, determined to not let her training be delayed. They had an indoor track at home at least, but when they were at The Wire, they were at the mercy of the track maintenance crew.
Ripley linked her hands together, squinting to view the horses that passed by. She sighed, knowing that her view of the horses would be limited. It wasn't a huge deal because she had excellent staff who were more than capable of telling whether a horse was ready or needed to be backed off of training. She pursed her lips, remembering that next year, she might be back in the exercise saddle again. Two kids and she was done. That was enough. She wanted her horses and as much of her original career as possible. She was an ambitious woman, a woman hungry for success and she wanted it in all functions of her complicated life. Brooks would just have to deal with that fact.
Brooks was unaware that Ripley was hardening up her argument against him, an argument that wouldn't really come to fruition. He was much to busy dealing with a high strung bay colt. Straton carried himself like a taunt spring about to snap. His muscular body moved with power and focus, with nary a hoof out of place. The unmarked colt's ears were pricked up to listen through the heavy fog. He was a brave soldier, willing to progress even though he couldn't see much more than a hundred yards ahead of him. Brooks risked a quick pat, felt the strain on the reins when Straton found the weak point and vowed to not do that again this morning. Gritting his teeth, Brooks jerked the reins to remind Straton that he wasn't large and in charge, that some accommodations needed to be made for the slim human on his back.
Reese moved with the rhythm of the big, black colt beneath her. She wondered if this is how Maggie had felt aboard the robust Vagabond in his racing days. She wondered if this is how Tainted Love's half-sisters on the sire's side had felt. Raw talent reverberated from the towering beast, giving Reese the near certainty that his great-grandsire Night Stalker was in him somewhere. All of the Night Stalker types tended to sucker punch you with their natural abilities. While Straton powered through the leathers that denied him further extension, Tainted Love galloped with ease. His coal black ears flickered over his head, unconcerned with his fiery workmate or the fact that they were working with little vision.
Brooks let Straton take the clubhouse turn wide, aiming to slow his charge and achieving the goal. Straton came off the bridle momentarily, but moments later he snorted when Tainted Love rounded up to his broad shoulder. Straton was a fighter deep in his core. Brooks nodded to Reese and the female jock returned the gesture. Usually, Ripley's voice would crackle in their heads to tell them when to pick it up, but they were on their own today... as on their own as the seven year assistant trainer and tenured jockey could be. "At the half mile marker, let him go," Brooks said.
The greatest irony about the duo was their personalities and respective running styles. While Straton was on the muscle, he was more likely to fall back in the pack and then to drag his rider forward into the melee. Tainted Love, easygoing as a labrador retriever, simply had too much natural speed to lay back off the pace. The duo were perfect for each other in that sense. Taint gave Straton pace to run into and Taint taught Straton how to battle and how not to be intimidated. Frankly, Taint was an intimidating creature, even at the age of two. Any behemoth that was 16.3 hands and still growing ought to strike fear in his competition.
At the half mile pole, Reese tightened her hold and sent Taint forward. The coal black animal leaped into the bridle as if he'd been waiting for this cue all along and drew off to a quick two length lead over Straton. Straton's head flew in the air briefly in surprise, but soon he recognized the game. At Brook's chirp, the unmarked horse lowered his head and powered forward, ears pinned to his neck. Brooks tracked Taint's big, beautiful behind, but knew watching him would not help him with his internal clock. Taint moved with discerning ease and could fool a man into insultingly slow fractions in the mornings.
Reese shook the reins a little, knowing that Taint was gliding through the fraction with minimal effort. She could hear the quick hoofbeats of Straton behind them and knew the foe would be upon them as soon as they hit the end of the far turn. Straton did not have the early speed of Taint, but he had a late kick mean enough to break a few hearts. She leaned low to Tainted Love's neck, keeping her hands and feet quiet for the moment.
At the turn, Brooks sent Straton flying and the brown horse responded with a fury. He gripped the bit between his teeth and roared forward with all of his promised strength. In a matter of three strides, Straton was upon Taint. The black horse pinned his ears at the sight of his rival and from that moment, it was game on.
The duo pounded the dirt impressively as they rolled from turn to homestretch, their muscles contracting and releasing emphatically as they each tried to one up the other. Neither Reese nor Brooks could clock this late stretch because the turn of foot on both equine's part was so blistering. Taint would get a nose down and then Straton would get his. Heads bobbing, the pair streaked through the wire. Ripley, unbeknownst to the riders, had caught the stretch run in a blazing time. Although she was annoyed by the fog, at least she wouldn't be questioned on the pair of rockets she was about to unleash over the dirt.
