Post by Dante on Jan 3, 2012 21:29:36 GMT -5
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ROYAL ASSASSIN
workout with
ERIN TRUBELL[/b]
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It wasn't cremello. It wasn't a filly. It wasn't going to eat her face off. Erin had to say she was liking Royal Assassin, nicknamed Prince, quite a lot already. He was a bit torugh to handle, but she could tell her had the blood of racehorses in him. He had a Hall of Fame sire, for starters, and had been picked up at a steal of a price. With Connor holding the newly two colt, Erin mounted from the ground. "He's tiny!" Erin couldn't help herself say. Compared to Ophelia, the colt was small and narrow, but she rather liked the change. She could feel him shift and prance beneath her. Bloodlines or not, it was going to be his first start soon. This workout was going to be an important one for the bay colt. It was the start of what was going to be his life for the next two to five years, after all. The ginger jockey just had to make sure she didn't mess it up, in G-rated terms.
"You ready, beautiful?" Connor asked, and Erin arched a brow.
"You better be talking to the horse, Connor." Erin warned. He'd made advances all winter.
"Horses, let alone colts, don't wear bright red lipstick." Connor smirked, and Erin rolled her eyes. Just to see what he'd do, she licked the handle of her crop. Seeing him rivited, she smacked him acorss the face with the other end and set for the gate while he streamed curses - and blood - behind her. Who needed that half-drunk man, anyways?
"We'll do it ourselves, won't we?" She asked the colt, who snorted gently in seeiming agreement.
Without aid, getting Prince into the gate was a struggle. He hadn't run at all in his prospct year, so this was one of his first goes, aside from beggining training. Erin's size aided her immesnely, and in a moment, she got the colt in, and ready. This first run was going to be eight furlongs on dirt. Not too hard, and not too easy. It would give her time to get to kno exactly what she was working with. A frontrunner, both Skylark and Connor had told her, he was most likely to be, but withing that type there were different styles - anyways, why wasn't the gate going? Erin looked around, and saw Connor still getitng in position. At least he hadn't left. She did have that to say fro him at least. He wasn't a weakling.
She got ready, and CLANG! The gates sprung open. She could almost hear Prince going "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" for a moment before he started, a little tardy but not short by any means on speed. Even with a late start, he'd still have a fair chance at things. She let him accelerate wildly at first, as thoug chatching up and taking the lead in a real race, then reined him in a bit. He didn't like it, but he couldn't contend very much with the reigns, so he held himself at the pace his lipstick-sporting jockey demanded. Erin could feel he wanted the win, that he wanted to do this, and that he knew he was going to, but that raw want and desire had to be translated into a plan, and that's where she and practice, and just getting out there and racing, came in.
They took the curve stronger than she expected them to, and it only took a little outside shifting on her part to get them to do it. She held him at a speedy-but-steady pace all around the curve, and into the sixth furlong, whereupon she finally let him go, though gradually, so he didn't burn himself out, and only giving him near total control over his head in the last half furlong. Even so, he finished strong, and sweaty but truipmhant, the colt finished his first real workout.
By the time she'd gotten back to where Connor was, he was gone, with the time written down and nothing more.
"I told you, Prince." She laughed. "We'll be doing this on our own, but I think that suits us. Besides, you don't oogle when I lick my crop. I like you already!"-----------------------
WORKOUT STATS
words| 702
workout surface| Turf
distance| 8 furlongs
horse| Royal Assassin
jockey| Erin Trubell
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