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Post by vegas on Aug 26, 2009 16:14:38 GMT -5
The big bay tossed his head high, fighting the hold his owner had on the reins and her fingers, closed around his bit. His black mane was pulled neatly, tail flowing freely past his hocks. The colt stood a good 16.3, and still had room to fill out. His neck was coiled against Bailey's hold, attempting to pull his head away from the running martingale which kept him from doing exactly that. He had no white to distort his pictureseque body. A blood, mahogany bay, the colt was almost red. The cherry bay, covered in darker crimson dapples. Black stockings climbed up his long, strong legs.
Helmet tucked under her arm, the red head had smoothed her hair back from her face in a tight, low ponytail. A crop in her boot, she halted the horse by the gap. She was supposed to meet Logan here. She glanced at her watch. Five fifty-five. He had five minutes to show. If he wasn't there on the dot, she work the colt by herself. Storm had alot of energy, and keeping him contained to long was lethal. With a sharp intake of breath, she launched onto his back and clipped the helmet into place. Safety first.
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Post by booster on Aug 26, 2009 16:22:55 GMT -5
A dapple grey thoroughbred trotted up with a rider on his back. Logan was of course in his racing silks. His helmet on and his golved hands keeping the horse under control. He smiled as he noticed it was her waiting for him. He remembered everyhting about last even thought the last few minutes were still cloudy to him. " I'm not late am I?" he asked. Grand Champ let out a nicker that everyone in town knew as his famous nicker. Only because he'd nicker loudly after each win. Logan patted the horse's neck gently and halted him next to her and the colt.
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Post by vegas on Aug 26, 2009 16:32:25 GMT -5
She wore a polo tucked into breeches, and a simple pair of black nylon gloves. She whipped her crop from her boot, slapping it against the leather. Storm stood squarely, ears pricking in interest to the noise. She heard his voice and turned the big colt to face the silver horse. "Nope. Two minutes to spare. Good job." She smiled brightly, leaning down to pat the dappled bay. He brought his horse along side Storm. Bailey immediately reined her colt away. "Don't get too close when he's standing still. He bites." The colt already had his ears pinned, and the flash helped a bit, but the colt was a houdini, really. He'd find a way.
"Anyway." She continued, turning Storm to face him. "This is the infamous Storm I've told you about. You know racer's better than me. How's he look? He's clocked some nice works." She smiled, Storm arching his long, elegantly arched neck. His shoulders were sloping, haunches muscled, but finely, meaning he wasn't big, he was lean muscled. His barrel was fit, and healthy. His coat itself showed his health, glowing brightly.
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Post by booster on Aug 26, 2009 16:40:59 GMT -5
Logan smirked slightly as Champ snorted and pawed the ground. " He looks like he might just beat Grand Champ. But, you never know. This boy is still excited from yesturday's win" he said. Grand Champ snorted and almost reared. Logan calmed him down by placing a nice, gentle and calming hand onto his neck. The grey thoroughbred relaxed and leveled his neck with his back.
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Post by vegas on Aug 26, 2009 16:48:04 GMT -5
The woman frowned. Weren't you supposed to give a horse a day or two, or even three, off after a race? She hesitated, then dismissed it, tweeking her hold on the rein slightly to keep Storm from pulling loose. "Let's get out there before my guy explodes." She advised wisely and allowed the tension in the colts muscles to slip out as he opened up his stride to a long walk. She turned him to the outside rail, urging him to a trot, going to the right, allowing the racers to gallop by on the inside rail and to the left.
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Post by booster on Aug 26, 2009 16:54:41 GMT -5
Logan got Grand Champ to trot behind them. The grey snorted and stayed behind them. The horse knew what this workout day was for now. He snorted and nickered loudly to the other horses around them. "Hush, Champ. Save it for the bigger races" Logan said to the grey. Champ snorted and trotted still. He wanted to let everything out now and run.
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Post by vegas on Aug 27, 2009 13:28:53 GMT -5
The bay shook his head from side to side violently. He was ridden in just a snaffle, Bailey didn't believe in using anything more. If Storm wasn't so strong, she'd just ride in a hackamoor, but that wasn't an option. Storm was still a baby, big time, and unbalanced. Falling on the forehand was an ordinary event, and Bailey needed atleast a little something to pull the colt back to his feet. High strung Thoroughbred body was boiling over, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He gnawed at the bit, foam frothing from his mouth, and splattering against his chest. "Easy, babe. Easy." She murmured, half to herself, and half to Storm Prince.
After one lap around the track, after changing direction, Bailey rose in the saddle, asking the cherry bay to a compressed canter. His strides were short and quick, begging to let him out, begging to let him run. But Bailey was none to give in to the gentle persuasions by her colt, instead she half halted until she got beside Logan and his gray. The colt pinned his ears and flung up his head, foam flying through the air. Bailey shook her head and smiled affectionately, scrubbing the horse's withers soothingly. "Ready when you are."
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Post by booster on Aug 28, 2009 10:18:35 GMT -5
Logan glanced to her. "Let's get them going. Champ wants to go badly" he said. Grand Champ stayed trotting just waiting to be let go. He was ready to race ahead when he had to. Logan was ready to give the grey thoroughbred more rein in order to run. He held the horse back and scratched his poll slightly for him. Grand Champ let out another loud nicker.
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Post by vegas on Aug 30, 2009 16:04:35 GMT -5
Bailey had been waiting for his cue, though it seemed he was waiting for hers. So she took the liberty to counting down slowly. "Three." She began, grip tightening on the reins for preparation. "Two." She glanced beneather her left arm, checking behind her for any up and coming horses. There were none. Then her eyes switched to Logan. Her determination softened for meer seconds at the caring look he had in his eyes, obviously for the dapple beneath him. Her tall bay danced beneath her, hooves making a steady thump! with each strike to the soft dirt track. Bailey took a deep breath, and turned her attention between her colts ears. They had to win. Just had to. Then maybe Logan could help her keep her beloved Storm. So in the release of air, she finished. "One."
Reins slipped through her fingers, and the blood bay snatched at the bit as if his life depended on it. His stride opened up and he sprang forward, pouring out his contained energy, adrenaline pumping through his many veins. His stride opened up, but paused mid air as Bailey collected him slightly, forcing the colt to rate himself. He shook his head in frustration before settling into a steady, ground eating pace. He wasn't going particularly fast, Bailey had learned her colt was a late closer. Meaning if he hit the right stride with enough time, the colt could bear down on any horse from twenty lengths away, and pass nearly any in his way. Bailey didn't look for her competitor, she stared straight ahead. If he passed her, she would know.
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Post by booster on Aug 30, 2009 17:58:30 GMT -5
Logan pushed Grand Champ into an all out run behind them. The grey thoroughbred sped trying to gain on them. So far Logan was impressed by her colt. But, Grand Champ burst into a faster pace. He was gaining quickly on them. Logan pushed the thoroughbred into a faster pace now. The dapple gray moved but wouldn't go around them just yet.
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Post by vegas on Aug 30, 2009 20:09:39 GMT -5
"Steady, steady, steady." She repeated over and over again, leaning over the colts neck, hands pressed against his neck. Constantly he yanked for the reins, begging, pleading, and at some times trying to take the leather from her gloved hands by force. It didn't work. Bailey had learned just as well the exact degree to turn her hands, and the exact position to close her calves around Storm's barrel to avoid being bullied by the big animal. His hooves were strong, his neck arched against the hold. Bailey blinked for a moment, straining to hear the other horse, until she glanced beneath her arm to check. Logan was behind them. Close and behind them. If she stayed in front with Storm at this pace... If Champ didn't speed up about ten notches, they wouldn't catch Storm. The colt had too much left.
Bailey knew the bay inside and out. She knew how fast her colt could go, and how fast he would go. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the sheer power, listening to the pound of hoof beats, listening to the breathing of her almost three year old. When she opened her eyes, the colt had followed the rail into the clubhouse turn. Almost the home stretch. Almost the time to let her colt run, and show what he could really do. She had to convince Logan Storm could win. She had to keep him. She now looked for Silver Jet and his human, she had to know where they were to know when to let Storm Prince go.
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Post by booster on Aug 30, 2009 20:15:58 GMT -5
Logan smacked Champ with his crop. The dapple gray sped right up to almost top speed. The gray thoroughbred got next to them now. Logan never spoke to his horse while on him. The horse knew what to do and when to do it. But, today Logan actually had to do something more. "Come on, Pops. You can stay with them until it's time" he said softly.
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Post by vegas on Aug 30, 2009 20:32:20 GMT -5
Bailey always spoke to her bay. Always. It seemed to calm the horse. Soothe him ever so slightly, and if there was ever anything she could do to make the colt gain confidence, she would do it. It also proved a good distraction for herself. It kept Bailey thinking more about the horse and less about falling. She had right to be afraid. She could die as instantly as she hit the ground. But she loved racing, oh, she loved it. And she wouldn't quit until that fatal day came. Tears flooded her vision, but she wasn't blind enough to not see the pole flash by. Silver Jet was right beside her now. First at his flank, then at his shoulder, then they'd drawn even with Storm.
Blinking, the water streamed from her eyes to her cheeks, and then was left in the dust, along with all memories of her injury, and she focused on the decision at hand. Jet was even with them, and she had to decide wether or not she was going to let Storm go early, or wait for a few seconds. She chose to wait. Five, she counted to herself. Four, three, two, one. She breathed in and shoved her hands up the colts neck, kneading against his crest, praying for more. And Storm was focused now, as well. He did what was asked, and kicked his pace up a few more degrees. Now given his head, he pinned his ears, and lowered it. Bailey crouched lower as well, trying to make things more aerodynamic. "Come on, baby." She whispered, looking ahead, she could now see the finish mirror. "Come on." She always rode free handed. The whip was never useful to Storm. He gave his all, always. He needed no encouragement. He loved to run. Bailey now closed her eyes tightly, feeling the power surge beneath her. She could feel the colt's want. He wanted so bad to draw away from the dappled gray. And she opened her eyes slightly, before squeezing them shut again, but not in time to see the finish line blister by. But she closed them in time to not see who won.
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Post by booster on Aug 30, 2009 21:11:06 GMT -5
Logan kept Grand Champ at the speed. He watched as she and the colt got past the finish first. He smirked and started to slow his horse down. Grand Champ protested but slowed down. He knew he lost for a good reason. Logan knew how she could keep her colt. He hoped he could help her.
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Post by vegas on Aug 30, 2009 21:30:42 GMT -5
Bailey opened her eyes rather quickly, and stood high in the stirrups, half halting gently, squeezing the reins and releasing repeatedly in an attempt to slow the big bay. "Slowwww down." She spoke in a sing songy voice. When the colt came to a canter, and then a high strung trot. He shook his head rather violently and his mane bobbed. There was a fine layer a sweat on her neck, and stomach, anda decent spattering on foam across his chest. When the realization set in that she had won, Bailey gasped for the breath she'd been holding and collapsed on the colts sweaty neck, hugging him tightly. "You're amazing, Storm." She sobbed out, the colt lowering his neck and coming to a walk.
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