Post by S u N f r O s t ~ on Jan 5, 2012 6:33:11 GMT -5
FORBIDDEN TO FLY AND HENNA TURATH
FLY'S WORKOUT FOR THE GOLDEN START STAKES
The day had finally come. After hours upon hours of additional work with the colt, Forbidden To Fly actually behaved like a trained two year old instead of a frisky, disobedient yearling. He had been the toughest horse to train of the year eleven crop of two year olds, and that had been saying something, considering the difficult nature of Lynara's Kingdom and other horses. But somehow, Henna had managed to pull this off. Never had she felt so exhausted and yet so proud as she sat astride the dark gray two year old. He had been born black, of course, and was now going gray. He would lighten as the years went by. Henna hoped that his maturity would be reflected at least somewhat in the lightening of his coat. If Fly didn't mature over the years and become a tad bit more serious minded, they'd be in trouble.
But for now, Henna focused on just basking in the moment. She grinned as Fly responded to a slightly firm cue from her to walk. And as he walked, he arched his neck, jiggled in place and then sent off a loud bugle as he sighted the dirt track. Henna prepared herself, knowing what came next, and easily sat the small buck Fly sent her way before trotting at her next cue. It was a queer habit of Fly's to buck once as soon as a hoof touched the track. Henna figured it was his way of staying in character with his goofy personality. There were rarely any serious moments with the two year old, even on the track. He was always lighthearted and rarely serious about his racing. Though if challenged stride for stride, he usually managed to focus enough to fight back. He considered racing a game, like everything else he did, and he did not like to be beaten in his games. Games were what he lived for, after all. Why else would he be so lighthearted all the time?
Henna could scarcely believe that they were sending Fly off to his first start in the Golden Start Stakes. She certainly hoped it would be a golden start, indeed. Fly had the potential to do well, as the son of Flying Colours and Forbidden To Fly. His sire was a Hall Of Fame sprinter, and not one of his dam's foals had turned out bad. He was actually half brother to Silent Wings, Pegasus Wings and Flashy Wings! Those were some good relations, and all had and were being ridden by Henna. It was Henna's tradition to take Forbidden Wings's foals and ride them in their racing careers. She hoped to continue this tradition with each foal Wings threw. But for now, she should focus on the one she was riding. A lack of focus with Fly would no doubt cause a prank of some sort to be pulled.
She cued Fly into a canter in order to grab his attention and then thought of what they were doing that day. It had been decided that in order to get the colt to focus as much as possible, they would let him fly for about four furlongs and then pull him up. Hopefully this would blow off some steam and make the colt somewhat more compliant. Henna knew that this tactic was unlikely to work, but Amber had insisted that it was worth a shot. Krystal had sided with her. Of course, neither woman had worked with Fly before. He was too unfocused and loud for them, and they lacked the patience. Therefore, Henna felt that what she said about her colt was justified. Nevertheless, she humored Amber in this instance, as Amber was still stressed with the new year.
Finally deeming herself, ready, Henna held on tight and let the reins go loose. Crouching over the colt's neck, she finely balanced herself as Fly immediately picked up speed. He began to soar, long strides eating up the ground. The movement was driving him onward, and he wanted more. Henna let him go, following her instructions to the letter. She was beginning to feel like they were soaring - until they hit the turn. Suddenly, Fly slowed down. He uncomfortably negotiated the turn, his stride shorter and not as fluid. Henna instantly sprung into command. She eased the colt up slightly, pointing his nose to the angle of the rail, hoping to ease his journey. Within a half furlong of her doing so, Fly's stride became easy and good again. Grinning at this, she let the gray colt roar into the backstretch.
Fly was off once more. He took off, seeking to turn the dirt beneath his hooves into mincemeat. Henna held on, enjoying the ride. When they finally passed under the wire, she reluctantly slowed the colt down. A grin was present on her face. They were ready for the Golden Start Stakes.
