the world's eyes ~

[S u N f r O s t ~]

It was time, time for the Breeders Cup. And as she did every year, Amber was pumped up for it. There was nothing quite like the Breeders Cup to get competitive juices flowing. Every year, Amber loved to ride her horses in the Breeders Cup, or watch her staff ride their own mounts wearing the silks of SOPS. It had been her great pride to watch and ride some of the finest horses GHF had seen in the world championships. Once again, she was back this year with another competitive bunch. It was four am; the crew had once again gotten up early to give the horses their last work before the Breeders Cup. The atmosphere was just like the one before the Autumn Cup, but a little bit more intense. So much more was riding on the results of these races.

Beside Amber, Krystal looked out the window as the landscape flew by. Her eyes were dark with seriousness and concentration. Krystal was riding four horses in the Breeders Cup; Goldie, Mona, Sill and Onya. Her horses were good, yet she still worried about their performance. She knew that she was a capable rider; she just hoped everything went squeaky clean on race day. She was trying to build up her reputation; these horses and their results could make or break her record. Henna Turath sat in the back. Unlike the semi-calm women in front of her, Henna was very nervous, and kept anxiously looking at her hands, out the window and then back to her hands. She was riding three horses in the Breeders Cup, and admittedly the records of her mounts were better than Krystal's. However, she had the least experience, and was very nervous.

The car pulled up outside the racetrack boarding stables, and the women all leaped down from the car and walked as a group into the stable block. They would be individually saddling up their horses today, as the staff from the Autumn Cup were too busy. Looks of determination slowly began to light every face. The Breeders Cup challenge started today for each of them. Every woman was reviewing the schedule Amber had announced for them last night.

SCHEDULE
4:15am - Moondance, Silent Wings, Radiance: 10f on Dirt from Pole
4:45am - One With Gold and Deadly Desires: 8.5f on Turf from Gate
5:05am - Mystical Melody and TDI Live This Lie: 8f on Dirt from Gate
5:30am - Pegasus Wings and Limited Bluez: 6f on Dirt from Pole
5:55am - Wildly Natural and Sillenia: 8f on Turf from Gate
6:15am - On To The Spotlight and Impressario: 8f on Turf from Pole

[S u N f r O s t ~]

MOONDANCE & SILENT WINGS & RADIANCE

DECLARATIONS
Moondance - Breeders Cup Ladies Classic
Silent Wings - Breeders Cup Dirt Mile
Radiance - Breeders Cup Classic

Amber sighed as she dropped into the saddle of her bay True Enough son. Radiance shifted underneath her weight, then began to paw the ground, eager to head off. His eyes looked at the world around him, entrusting himself to the beauty of it. His heart sang as Amber asked him to move forward and he stepped foot on the dirt track. At four years old, the bay thoroughbred had filled out. He was at the peak of his power, and he moved confidently, each stride ringing with purpose. He knew what he was here to do; he had done that job for the past two seasons, and would again when he was five. He was nothing if not talented. As a three year old, he had won the Belmont Stakes, the Palm Tree Paradise Invitational and the Breeders Cup Marathon. The year before that, he had won the Breeders Cup Juvenile. Winning a Breeders Cup race was in the bay's blood, and Amber was hoping to not fail the tradition that he had set for himself.

This time, though, they were eyeing the Breeders Cup Classic. The crown jewel of the Breeders Cup, with a competitive field conditioned to run well from their season running the Triple Crown or other prestigious races. Amber felt familiarity sing in her as she though to SOPS's last Classic mount. That had been Impressario, and he had won. Amber hoped to win again, this time aboard Radiance. It would be funny if a son of True Enough won the Classic as well as a son of Merry Bay King. It seemed that even after their racing careers were over, those two continued to compete for honors in the breeding shed.

Henna whispered hushed praises to the bay three year old filly. Moondance appeared to not react to her words, but on the inside Henna knew that the filly was satisfied. She moved out at her command, tail held showily in the air. It was obvious what the filly thought of herself; she was imperious, impervious to the imperfections of ugliness, a queen because she said so. Such was her attitude, and such was her determination to win. Henna felt burdened by the task ahead of her. Mona was entered into the Ladies Classic. While she had placed second in the Juvenile Fillies last year, this year things could be different. Her two competitors in the Ladies Classic were packed with talent. Mona had her own talent too; she had won the Kentucky Oaks this year. However, that was her only win this year, aside from the Autumn Cup Grade Four Dirt.

Henna worried about the filly's performance; she was young, but not inexperienced. She knew how to win, but did not consistently. However, Henna realized that after working with Radi and Dara before the Autumn Cup, she had been pushed to win that race. Perhaps this time, working with the same horses again, they would win once again. She was no inexperienced two year old; she knew what she had to do in a race. Her running style of stalking the leaders conserved energy while still putting her in a good position to run. However, there was no doubt in Henna's mind that her filly was the long shot in the field. Time to prove them wrong she thought, and urged the filly out onto the dirt track, feeling a sudden spark of determination. Mona was Mona; she had talent.

Krystal smirked at her mare's coldly calm attitude as she legged up into her saddle. Silent Wings was, as per usual, silent. She waited for Krystal's command with the businesslike attitude of the professional athlete. When it came, she moved out at a walk, and upon setting hoof on the dirt track did not change her attitude whatsoever. Unlike the other two horses she was working with today, Dara was cold and uncaring. Not uncaring about her race, but uncaring about showing off and drawing attention to herself. Radi and Mona were the horses that got along well because they both enjoyed attracting attention; Dara, on the other hand, preferred to be a "silent threat", if they were stealing from Limitless Time's title. Thus, she was quiet and composed, and Krystal liked that.

Dara was Dara; she had talent, and had been declared for the Dirt Mile against a competitive field consisting of Prize Me Proud, Buccaneer and Vindictive Fury. All of those horses were quite accomplished; however, none of them had attained grade one status. At the most, they were grade threes. Dara was grade one, with fifteen wins to her name and a quiet reputation. She was the horse to watch out for, and Krystal bet that they would be the favorites on race day. They had the experience, grade and achievements to back them up. What achievements? Well, Dara was the winner of The Natural Memorial Stakes and Coaching Club American Oaks last year. This year, however, had been a quiet year for her, with only two wins. Krystal, however, attributed that to the smaller amount of races she had run in, rather than a lack of talent or motivation. She had won the Unicorn Horn Mile and the Autumn Cup Grade One Dirt. Krystal knew that she had a lot of things going for her.

As all approached the first turn, the horses broke into canters. Rhythmic rocking strides and small smiles on each woman's face made the perfect picture as the horses wordlessly approached their starting point. They were racing ten furlongs from the pole, a lengthy workout but necessary. This time around, things would make more sense. The Breeders Cup was far enough away for Amber to work the horses as she was. They would start before the final turn, and let things play out. As they entered the backstretch, every horse accelerated into a canter, and the riders skillfully got every horse lined up side by side and cantering at the same speed in preparation for the start.

The start came, and, as if practiced before, every horse took off at the same time. Dara immediately took the lead, Krystal flush against her back as the mare found her cruising speed. Mona took a place about one and a half lengths off, not letting the mare get too far ahead. Radi comfortably took a place six lengths off of the leader, loping along in with easy, swinging stride. All three thoroughbreds had taken their preferred positions in a race; now, the fitness and will dynamics would take center stage.

For six furlongs nothing changed; the distances between horses would occasionally narrow and then lengthen again. However, it was now the last half mile, and Radiance was beginning to quicken his stride. He made up a couple lengths as the three slammed into the turn. Henna glanced under her arm to see Radiance pouring it on and asked Mona to go. Krystal waited for the other two to come. She would not ask Dara to go any sooner, or else the mare would burn out. Dara impatiently pulled at the reins, but she had grown to listen more to her rider. This meant more victories!

The final two furlongs were upon them. Radi and Mona were now a length off of Dara, so Henna let her mare go. The black mare flew powerfully forward, racing as though she hadn't been for the past mile. Radi was not perturbed by her increase in power; he continued to gallop forward himself, soon drawing up alongside. Krystal desperately looked for an opening between the two horses in front of her, and finding none steered her filly to the outside. Mona flew as fast as she could, attempting to catch up, but the block up had done its work. As they crossed the wire, it was Radi and Dara neck and neck, with Mona a length back on the outside.

Each horse was pulled up by his or her rider. Each rider exchanged glances with each other, as well as quick nods. Pride shone in each pair of eyes. This batch of horses was ready for the Breeders Cup.

[S u N f r O s t ~]

ONE WITH GOLD & DEADLY DESIRES

DECLARATIONS
One With Gold - Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf
Deadly Desires - Breeders Cup Turf Sprint

The palomino filly was hard to mistake. Standing at sixteen hands high, One With Gold was a rare color for a thoroughbred. She drew lots of eyes as a result. Her bloodlines were just as rare; her sire Toledo Surprise had been known as more of a show horse than racehorse. He was even rarer as a western speed horse; western events had been rare even when Green Horse Fields supported showing. His dam was Foolish Entity, who's most well known foal was grade two turfer Foolish Lad. Thereby, Goldie had the bloodlines to excel on turf. In Krystal's opinion, though, the filly didn't have the maturity right now to back up those lines.

She had run a pretty good two year old season, Krystal knew, but the filly was capable of more. Of that, Krystal was certain. In a way, the filly reminded her of her old mount Passionate Class. He, too, hadn't been known until late into his three year old season. From there, he had caught the eye of many well known stables as a turfer to watch out for. Krystal wanted the same for Goldie; she knew that she had greatness inside of her, being the rider of her half brother Foolish Lad. That was why, today, her workout with Deadly Desires would benefit the filly. Desiree would bring out the hidden speed Goldie held; Goldie, being a closer, would be hard pressed to keep up with Desiree, which would be the strategy Krystal would try to implement today. She wanted her filly on her toes - er, hooves - and ready to run.

Amber mounted the seventeen hand high four year old with a small grunt of exertion. It wasn't that Deadly Desires was giving her problems - the mare never did - it was just that the height was imposing, and it required a lot of effort to get up there, even with Henna's leg up. Desiree shifted, her sleek black legs the picture of agility and grace, waiting for Amber's command. When it came, the pure black granddaughter of Augusto moved out at a quiet walk, entering the dirt and then the turf track. The quiet hoofbeats behind Amber let her know that One With Gold and Krystal were following. Amber decided to use this time to reflect on Desiree and her future.

The mare would be five next year. Though she was already accomplished enough to retire, Amber was hesitant to do so. The mare still had more she could do on the track. Besides, she was Amber's only sprinter mount, and a turf sprinter at that. Amber enjoyed riding the mare. She wasn't ready to let her go. Then again, she wasn't ready to let Impressario go either, and she was doubtful that Krystal was willing to retire On To The Spotlight. But the two were five years old, and the time had come for both. It was just that both of their riders were in denial regarding that fact. But enough of them, on to Desiree.

Desiree had been running a fantastic season, no doubt about that, with no places out of the top three. She was facing a field of good sprinters in the Turf Sprint. Amber labeled Dash of Sugar as the biggest threat - the mare had been winning sprints left and right, and had beaten Desiree on many occasions. Then again, Desiree had beaten her, too. Desiree was a front runner, bar none. Amber knew that they would go right to the lead and stay there. The race was short; Amber wasn't worried about Desiree losing energy. The mare was a sprinter; she had won the year end award for sprinting last year. In fact, she had won the Turf Sprint last year, and the longer distanced Juvenile Fillies Turf the year before. Like some of her other mounts, Desiree had a Breeders Cup winning tradition to keep going. This workout, though meant to challenge Goldie the most, would help Desiree stave off the closing threats she could face in the actual race.

The two began to canter their mounts as they entered the backstretch. They would be cantering all the way to the gate that had been set up in the half mile chute for their eight and a half furlong race. Amber had decided that all workouts involving two year olds would go from the gates; this would be to give them more experience from it, which would hopefully boost them on race day. Older horses didn't need it; they had all the experience they needed with those "death-contraptions". The canter was at a reasonable pace; a bit slower than usual in Desiree's case, as Amber wanted Goldie and Krystal to catch up. Eventually they did, and side by side the two thoroughbreds cantered, until finally they reached the gates. Henna was there, and led them in. She didn't hold the horses' heads like gate attendants did, being one person, but the two racers would hopefully be more reasonable than that. Desiree loaded calmly and faced straight forward, muscles tensed and ready to break into a gallop. Goldie curiously nosed the gate before walking in, nosing the enclosed space as well. Krystal straightened her out and then waited for the break.

It came quickly. Desiree broke like wildfire and went straight into a quick cruising speed, pouring it on. She usually liked to lead by at least a length, sometimes more. Goldie broke a bit slower, and wasn't as straight as Krystal would have liked. However, the filly eventually straightened out and entered her much slower cruising speed. Desiree was blazing seven lengths ahead of her, the gap increasing, while Goldie loped along. Krystal sat calmly on the filly's back, though, not perturbed by the increasing gap. Her filly took half a mile to get going, and closed like wildfire. Desiree wouldn't stand a chance if she wasn't careful.

As soon as a half mile went by, a change was obvious with Goldie. Her stride became longer, and more cadence was added to it. She began to catch up, sweeping along the turf track, closing the ten lengths of daylight. Aboard Desiree, Amber glanced behind her, and decided that she wouldn't ask her mount to go until Goldie was three lengths off, to heighten her desire. Goldie was coming up fast; at the final turn she had made up six lengths, with four more to go. Amber decided it was time, and asked Desiree to start her dead sprint. Desiree responded impatiently, exploding forward. She managed to put some more distance into the gap before Goldie responded. Of her own free will, One With Gold became One With Desire. She dug in, caught up in her will to catch up. Krystal held on as the filly plowed forward, seeking the win.

The two blew into the stretch, Goldie still pouring it on. She was two lengths off of Desiree. Desiree seemed to finally realize that the palomino foal was a threat. She increased her speed, which made Goldie increase her own speed. By the time the two hit the wire, Goldie was at top speed, while Desiree had been approaching it. The two pulled their horses up, exchanging smiles, and then began to mentally prepare for the next workout.

[S u N f r O s t ~]

MYSTICAL MELODY & TDI LIVE THIS LIE

DECLARATIONS
Mystical Melody in the Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies
TDI Live This Lie in the Breeders Cup Juvenile

The filly we basically jumping up and down when Henna legged up into the saddle. As soon as Mel felt the weight she snorted excitedly and pulled on the reins, obviously eager to get started. She was nearly as small as Pegasus Wings, and just as energetic, even similar in her running style. Perhaps that was why she and Henna worked so well together. Henna easily kept the filly in hand, conditioned to it by Asus. She let the filly pull her out onto the dirt track, and then let her enter a trot. Her mount's excitement rubbed off on her; Henna, too, was looking forward to the workout ahead. She always became enthusiastic for a workout because of the energy of the mounts she rode.

Mel was quite possibly the top two year old SoPS had right now. With five wins in eleven starts, she was quite the one to look out for. The most distinctive quality about her was her energy level. She had so much energy it was like lightning in a bottle. She released this energy during her races, when she ran in the front and somehow had enough sprint stamina to succeed. It was eye catching, and Henna liked that in her horses. Mel was her younger energizer bunny; Asus was the mount she used to learn how to ride Mel the best. Mel was success; the field for the Juvenile Fillies had been drawn up and was tough, but she was class, one of the three two year olds that had broken into grade four ranks this year.

Falsehood waited, patient and impatient, as Amber vaulted into his saddle. He set out at once, keen to get going, though not quite as enthusiastic as Mel. His coat was beginning to become a lighter gray, which made it more eye catching. He already caught a couple eyes due to his foreign and rare bloodlines, though; TDI Secrets of Excalibur and Definite Glory were shards of GHF's past, and their blood only ran through him. He was their only bloodline descendant racing on GHF. This made him a very treasured colt. Amber, however, liked him for his personality. Racing was in his blood; he was analytic and intelligent, perceptive and capable, with tons of potential. The Juvenile had drawn up one of the tougher fields in the whole Breeders Cup; Amber wanted Falsehood as ready as he could be.

Falsehood, like Mel, ran in the lead, and attempted to run away with the field. While he didn't have Mel's energy, he did have the intelligence to rate his pace based off of the rest of the field, and the stamina to win a race from gate to wire. It was truly a matter of riding him well and hoping for good luck throughout the race. Falsehood could manage himself well enough alone, but he didn't have the experience backing him yet that would enable him to run better and make better decisions. That was what Amber was there for; to prepare him to gain that experience, and then to be along for the ride when he did.

The workout plan was to race the two eight furlongs from the gates. It would be a lighter race, as both were seasoned enough to know the game by now. They had a bit of experience to back them up. As the two trotted into the backstretch they began to canter. The workouts had become repetitive to Amber at this point, so she varied the pace with Falsehood, slowing him to a trot and then accelerating him to a canter. Not only did it keep her from getting bored, but it enhanced the quality of communication between horse and rider, as well as made Falsehood more attentive. It was taking Henna all she had to hold in Mel, or else she would have done the same. Together they moved along the track, and then approached the gate. Krystal was waiting for them.

Falsehood loaded calmly, with the attitude of a more seasoned racehorse. Mel fidgeted nervously, afraid of being in a confined space, and too full of energy to feel any more willing to do so. Krystal eventually came around to grab Mel's rein and lead her in. Surrounded by two people she at least was familiar with, Mel calmed down and allowed herself to be led in, but was still uneasy in the gate. However, both two year olds were facing straight ahead and ready, so Krystal released the gates, and with a loud ring of bells the two year olds exploded out onto the dirt track.

Mel broke the fastest and bolted into the lead, flying freely and joyfully. Falsehood perceptively picked up on her energy and settled a half length off of her flank, as though goading her to run faster. Unfortunately, Mel fell for the bait, and increased her stride. Falsehood maintained the same pace; he seemed to know that Mel's current speed would tire her out. Henna knew it too, and calmly began to collect the filly. A quarter mile later, the filly was going at a far more reasonable pace, though she had run the quarter in speedy 23 flat. Falsehood stayed about a length off of her, needing no urging or direction from Amber for now. There the two stayed, until finally the final quarter mile was upon them.

Falsehood was given free rein, and he exploded forward, rocketing to Mel's side. Mel was beginning to tire slightly from her fast pace before, but managed to dig deep and keep pace with Falsehood. The two often worked together; she knew her competitor well. After a brief struggle though, she was forced to yield to Falsehood, who shot ahead to a two length lead before the wire. Falsehood's intelligence had won over Mel's energy; however, communication between the two riders was unnecessary, as both realized what they had to work on with their mounts. Thus, they left the track to prepare their next mounts.

[S u N f r O s t ~]

PEGASUS WINGS & LIMITED BLUEZ

DECLARATIONS
Pegasus Wings - Breeders Cup Sprint

The small black thoroughbred was as energetic as usual as Henna vaulted into his saddle. He pawed the ground eagerly, throwing his head up against the necessary tight rein Henna put him on for his run today. He was full of energy, as per usual. The son of Hall of Famer Royal Red Richard and proven producer Forbidden Wings had excellent bloodlines, and an excellent record to back them up. With twelve wins in twenty-five starts, he was merely one win from grade one status at three years old. He had won the majority of his starts this year, having gone up against skilled older sprinters and come away with the win in some cases, and a close loss in others.

It was hard to get the better of Asus; being a pure sprinter, he bolted to the lead and sprinted his hardest to stay there. Because he only ran five to seven furlongs on either surface, his running style was suited to his races. He had won the Star Festival, as well as his sire's Hall of Fame memorial series race. He had never placed out of the top three. The Breeders Cup Sprint was at his favorite distance of six furlongs. He would be hard to beat on race day. Today, he was racing against Limited Bluez, a grade three chestnut thoroughbred who was what Henna called a "part-time sprinter". He ran sprints and milers. Though he didn't have Asus's blood, he had just as much heart, though one usually didn't see this beneath his emotionless shell.

Amber sighed contentedly and hugged her colt before mounting up. Blue made her feel happy; he didn't have the hype of her big time racehorses, but he didn't have the ignorance granted to those horses who would never make it big. He had respect, and just needed more time to prove his talent. Like Asus, Blue broke fast and went straight for the lead. That was why he was racing against Asus today; his speed would help Asus run faster and be more on his toes for race day. Amber also knew that this workout would be a good experience for Blue, even though he wasn't running in the Breeders Cup. It would help him get better. That was all Amber asked of her horses; heart. Blue had plenty of it.

The chestnut and black thoroughbreds cantered side by side as soon as they stepped hoof on the dirt track. Asus was simply too energetic to be contained, while Blue was perking up. Both horses loved running and racing; they were passionate about what they did. This workout would be exciting. Marching along at the same pace, the two horses eventually reached their starting point. No gate needed for them; both were three years old, with plenty of experience. Off they went, the start synchronized with the ease of practice. Both immediately entered their quick cruising speeds and began to fight for the lead.

Asus defiantly stuck a head in front, to which Blue responded with equal stubbornness. Blue felt that his authority and dominance was being challenged; contrary to that, Asus was simply enjoying himself, and felt the need to lead. Two furlongs was swallowed up in their fight, until Blue finally got the lead by a neck and appeared content. Asus did not stray far from the chestnut colt's side; he didn't want to lose his lead. Asus was a front runner; he just had to be at the front. Sharing the lead with another horse didn't matter if it meant saving energy and at least staying semi in front.

With a quarter mile left to go, both women let their horses go. Asus gobbled up ground, flying past Blue. Blue responded instantly, his strides coming quickly. He managed to make up some ground, but Asus was plowing along with the lead, his small black legs flying and head pushed forward as though urging his body to go faster. They blew across the line four lengths in front of Blue, who gallantly finished in a fine sprint. The six furlongs went by in a very quick time; Henna flashed a grin at Amber, who responded with one of her own. Then the two got ready, once again, for the next workout.

[S u N f r O s t ~]

SILLENIA & WILDLY NATURAL

DECLARATIONS
Sillenia - Breeders Cup Juvenile Turf
Wildly Natural - Breeders Cup Filly and Mare Turf

Tura pranced excitedly in place beneath Amber, who with a tight rein focused on getting the filly to do her refocus exercises. Wildly Natural got distracted easily; right now, she was preoccupied with attracting attention to herself. Amber had her walk forward, stop, back up, walk back forward, walk in a circle and then perform a rein back. With each successive move, Tura became more relaxed and focused. Now, Amber trotted her out onto the turf track, and the filly's complete attention was, for now, on her rider and what they were setting out to do today. They were, of course, preparing for the Breeders Cup Filly and Mare Turf. The field contained experienced turf horses, but Tura had many things on her side. She was the lone grade one in the field. Her accomplishments involved winning the first two legs of the Turf Triple Crown this year, winning the grand Universal Cup and winning the Breeders Cup Juvenile Fillies Turf. There was no doubt in Amber's mind that Tura would go in as the favorite.

Tura's running style was that of a closer. She hung around rather far back of the field, biding her time, and then shot forward in the last half mile to hopefully take the win. That was why her distance range was eight to sixteen furlongs, with twelve furlongs being her favorite distance. The Filly and Mare Turf was run at ten furlongs. She had run in and won races at this distance, so the distance was no problem. She had her strategy and back up strategy figured out. All that remained was to make sure she was in the mood and had the correct fitness level on race day.

Sillenia pulled against the reins impatiently, stomping her hoof as Krystal took her time checking the position of her feet in the irons. After a million years, or so it seemed to Sill, Krystal asked her to walk out onto the turf track. More people were showing up now; a steady hum filled the air. Some horses were beginning to appear from the stables, making their way down to the track for their morning workout. No doubt this would lead to Tura freaking out and attempting to attract attention, while Sill would maintain her composure. Headstrong composure, yes, but she wouldn't be as hard to handle as Tura, hopefully.


The media buzz heightened; Krystal glanced over to see people leaning over the rails of the track, watching the two horses and attempting to identify them. Wildly Natural threw her head up into the air and began prancing; she had now unmistakably identified herself, and the media became even more excited. Krystal shook her head at Tura's antics, and wondered how they were going to get through their last workout of the day, with the two horses everybody wanted to see. Of course, Tura had recently beaten one of them, so was attracting many eyes as a strong competitor for her four year old season. Sill, too, was attracting eyes with her accomplishments; however, enough of that. They had a workout to run.

Amber and Krystal began to canter their horses to the gate. The two ran side by side, both pulling at the reins and eager to race. They were competitive fillies, and running side by side meant a race. Racing was in their blood; it was time to get down to business. The gate rose before them. Tura snorted loudly to attract some more attention to herself before going in; Amber was shaking her head in quiet amusement at her mount's antics. Sill hesitated slightly, but then strode right in. She was too eager to get going to make a fuss about the big, scary gate. Krystal grinned, proud of the two year old, before refocusing on the eight furlong race ahead.

Henna opened the gates, and off the two went. Both were closers, so both showed instant discomfort when there was nothing but open track in front of them. Deciding she didn't care for the day, Tura took the lead, leading by a length, not going too far from her comfort zone. Sill took her last place spot comfortably, loping along as though without a care in the world. She was a muscular filly, easily mistaken for a colt. Krystal knew that she could handle the level of competition she'd find in the Juvenile Turf. She was skilled; besides, Goldie deserved her shot in the Juvenile Fillies Turf. But back to the big picture.

A half mile passed, and Sill began to creep up on Tura. Tura hadn't started her stretch run yet; she was comfortably awaiting a challenge, and enjoying the extra attention she got as the horse in front. Sill impatiently pulled on the reins as another furlong swept by; Krystal gradually let her out, slowly letting the filly enter her stretch drive run. By slowly letting her out, she continued to remain a hidden threat, hopefully unnoticed until it was too late to do anything about her oncoming charge. Tura, however, was not an average horse, and she did not have an average rider. Amber saw Sill coming and let Tura out gradually too, guessing at the rate of change that Krystal was doing so that the distance between the two horses remained the same. With two furlongs left to go, Krystal growled and just let Sill go. The filly ground into a breathtaking sprint immediately, accelerating quickly. She was so fast in so few seconds that she managed to draw up alongside Tura before the black thoroughbred fought back.

Tura dug in and attempted to power away, finally being fully released. Sill struggled to keep up, blown away by the sudden explosive power of her competitor. In the final furlong Sill seemed to find another gear and fully drew up alongside Tura. Tura was looking for another gear to put the younger filly away when the two crossed the wire, Tura a nose in front. The women pulled up their horses and glanced uneasily at the media crowd that was getting larger by the second. Their next workout involved two amazing horses; it was not going to be enjoyable to put up with the media. But deep down inside, both women felt thrilled to be able to show their respective mounts off. Grinning slightly, they rode Tura and Sill off the track and to their well deserved rests. They were both ready to go.

[S u N f r O s t ~]

IMPRESSARIO & ON TO THE SPOTLIGHT

DECLARATIONS
Impressario - Breeders Cup Turf
On To The Spotlight - Breeders Cup Turf

It had come; the final competition, the match of the ages, the last race of two greats who would be remembered and revered for many years to come. One was painted black, with Hall of Fame bloodlines and accomplishments that none before him had achieved. The other was a chestnut, who had lurked in the background but had risen to stardom as a top mare this season. They were Impressario and On To The Spotlight. They were racing in the Breeders Cup Turf against each other. It would be their last race; next year they would be six years old, and retiring to the breeding shed. It was the end of an era, the era of Impressario's greatness and On To The Spotlight's heart.

Amber almost felt like crying as she mounted her black steed. Impressario hadn't changed much in the past year; he was filled out completely, truly an adult horse. His black legs seemed to bring fire to the track as she guided him out onto the turf. He had conquered the dirt completely, winning the Breeders Cup Juvenile and then the Classic. Now he was set on conquering the Turf. He had won the Mile last year; now, he was going for the crowning jewel of turf racing, the Breeders Cup Turf. Conquering both races would prove his supremacy, prove that horses like him were rare to find in a century. There was truly no other horse like Impressario; Amber felt proud of the colt like she hadn't felt of any horse before. Beneath the gazes of the media, he began to prance and show off, and cameras clicked from all over the place. The media loved Ario; he gave them topics for their columns and kept them their jobs by giving them something to write about. Though Amber had to admit that she'd prefer to work Ario in the peace and quiet, a nagging voice in the back of her head reminded her that she had chosen to work him and Onya last simply to give the media something to look at. If anything, she loved showing off her horses.

Krystal mounted the chestnut mare, who stood with a coldly businesslike attitude, ready to go. She was accomplished, but had lurked in the shadows; the past two seasons had brought her to greatness, and this season she had won some pretty major races, with the majority of her starts this year ending in a trip to the winners' circle. She was Krystal's baby after Passionate Class; she had been her second mount. To see her retire meant the end of her beginnings at SOPS. True, she had other mounts, but now she had stuck around long enough to see not only her first but her second mount go out of circulation in the racing scene. It made her think hard about her decisions and whether she had raised Onya to be the best she could be.

Thinking back, Krystal believed that she had done the best that she could. Onya had basically proved the breeding talent that her parents had; she had made a name for them while making a name for herself. She had become a queen of the turf, similar to Little Miss Innocent. And now she had to earn more respect; what better way than to beat Ario in the Turf? She had placed second twice in the Filly & Mare Turf; now had come the time to possibly take the crown. But would she be able to do it? Krystal thought she could; she was talented, and would make a fine broodmare.

Amber and Krystal steered the horses so they were trotting side by side, and then cued them for a canter. Ario entered the pace easily, and Onya flared her nostrils and attempted to take control and charge ahead. Her rival was not going to get the better of her; she was going to get the better of him. He had been her rival for too long; she wanted to rip him apart. Krystal attempted to calm down her mare with a couple soothing pats but knew her attempts would be fruitless. Ario ignored the highly agitated mare at his side; he was too consumed with his running to care. The two horses would start to race at the finish line, and they would race for one mile. Ario would take the lead as he usually did, and Onya would close from the outside on the final turn. That was how the two five year olds had always run; things weren't about to change now.

They were going to race at the finish line; they would go for eight furlongs. Onya bristled impatiently alongside Ario, wanting to crush her competitor, who was also heating up to the challenge. The two attempted to break free of their riders' tough holds on the reins so they could carry out their race. It seemed too long, but finally they managed to get to the wire, and both women let their horses out into their race pace with relieved sighs. Ario sprang forward like a cat, setting a fast pace. Onya broke forward just as quickly, but took a position two lengths off of Ario, plotting her move in the later stages of the race. The chestnut and black thoroughbreds both scraped the paint as they rounded the first turn. Ario ran a quick twenty three second quarter, and his pace didn't slacken.

As they passed the half mile pole, Onya began to creep up on her rival, eyes flaring with desire to tear him down. Ario didn't seem to notice her approaching figure, instead focusing on stretching his legs out and enjoying his run. The turf was softer, and it gave him more spring. Amber glanced under her elbow and saw Onya coming; she prepared Ario for a stretch drive.

It happened on the final turn; Onya was released, and came sweeping up to challenge Ario. Amber let Ario go, and the black thoroughbred rapidly accelerated. Somehow, Onya managed to slip skillfully on his inside and made up ground on the turn. As they entered the backstretch, they were roughly neck to neck, with both horses determinedly pouring it on. Both riders clung to their mounts' backs, practically breathing in time with their horses as they felt their own excitement rise. They urged their horses more and more as the race was drawing to a close.
Come on Ario! Amber finally yelled in her horse's ear.
Gut him, Onya! screamed Krystal, shaking the reins slightly.

No matter the riders' words, the two remained neck to neck as they passed the wire, no doubt in a dead heat. The two women blinked atop their horses, as though surprised the race was over, and slowly began to pull them up. The flash of a camera reminded them that they would best be leaving the track now if they wished to survive the media. Exchanging a grim nod with the other, the two trotted their horses off the turf track and through a sea of excited people.

Their mounts were finally ready for the Breeders Cup.