spring mission

Last time he'd run on this stretch of dirt, Cruze had placed second after hurting himself. It had been humiliating for colt and rider, wounding their pride as well as his leg. But Cruze had recovered quickly, and now he was due to run in the Spring Cup G1 Dirt. It was ten furlongs, his favourite distance. His neck arched, his tail flowed high in the breeze. His stride was relaxed, but powerful. Marissa rode his trot calmly, eager to gallop him and show the world his injury hadnt ruined his career. Most importantly, show Henna Turath and Flashy Wings. The wooman had publicly expressed glee for Cruze's injury, which practically solidified rumors that she was crazy. Seriously, what sane horse person wants to see horses get hurt?

Marissa considered their only competition for the race. Flashy Wings. He usually won when Sunset Crusade wasn't running - he'd won his first two starts.of the year, with no Cruze in his way. Cruze however was more than capable. He loved racing. He loved the attention that winning a race brought. He loved it all. Losing a race meant disappointment all around, a.d he didn't like those vibes. After his last race, in which he placed second, the attention hadn't been good attention. He'd been in pain, and he'd been jabbed with needles, and been confined to his stall for a week. Then, the following week, he'd been allowed to walk, twice a day, but stillvhe was confined to hiss stall for the remaining 23 hours. Then the week after that he'd been allowed to get back on the track, but only to trot and canter.

Finally, with the all clear from the vet, cruze had been allowed to gallop. Now it was thursday, and the Spring Cuo ran on saturday. His first gallop on tuesday had been short, but very fast. He had run faster than he had in his Breeders Cup Classic workout. Wednesday he'd spent all day in the paddock, showing off for the broodmares who were on the other side of the fence. He was cantering now, and he was beginning to anticipate galloping. Marissa eyed the four furlong pole, and prepared to realease the colt. He tugged on the reins, picking up speed already.

Go! Marissa exclaimed, simultaneously letting the reins slip a few inches. Cruze launched into gallop, digging into the dirt with powerful strides. She urged him on in the stretch, and when they crossed the line she knew it was possibly his fastest workout yet. He would be out to win on Cup day, and there was no way he'd lose without a darn good fight. And for that matter, neither would Marissa.