let in a maid that out a maid

[Dante]

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LADY OPHELIA

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workout with
ERIN TRUBELL[/b]
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Victory stolen - and Erin did not like to lose. She thrived on her ability to win, to tease, to flaunt, to come out on top by any means. The "bad girl" so to speak, and her insane, over sized filly. It was a combination that worked, even frontrunning at a distance. But for the Summer Cup their workout slot had been stolen at the last minute by some press conference on the track. To say the least, the redheaded jockey had been miffed. Now it was time to make a comeback.

The cremello filly under her didn't hold still for the world, and Erin kept her going in tight circles as Connor spoke. "Now remember, hold her up, don't let her tow you, hold her steady this race is long, twelve furlongs."

"I read the entry sheet." Erin reminded the trainer. "I know that. I'll keep her steady." There was cause for concern - Ophelia's results had been a bit lackluster as of late, but Erin was sure she could bring it back to acceptable at the very least. The good thing was that in the very long races, Ophelia rarely had competition, and as a frontrunner, rarely did other horses compete directly with her for a position until the end. Just wide open track and plenty of dirt. "Let's get going, or she's going to pop up on me." And rearing was just not all right on a horse that was pushing seventeen and a half hands, never mind in the gate!

Getting into the gate went okay by the standards of Lady Ophelia, and Erin dared take a hand of the reins for long enough to adjust her goggles. She ran her tongue over her reddened lips, then stared right out onto the track. The gates sprang open barely a minute later, and Ophelia broke fast - fast enough to be a sprinter. Erin felt the power behind it and did her best to curb it. Ophelia could run a little slower compared to frontrunnners in shorter races, but they both liked to stay comfortably in front. Erin glanced quickly behind her, as though surveying an imaginary field, and brought Ophelia into the inside rail. There was no point running her on the outside, and her size, bigger than most, meant that she was very rarely boxed in. If not, Erin wouldn't have been opposed to giving nearby jockeys a taste of her crop, if that wasn't illegal on more than one level.

Dirt flew up into their faces and coated them both, but neither seemed to mind that much. Erin's mind was on the race, not fashion just now, and she was planning to make a kill. They held steady for the first half, keeping a comfortable distance from the imaginary field, and took the corner sharp. That was what Erin loved - taking corners sharp, almost too sharp. She knew how to adjust her weight and her size to play to her benefit, and it was always a crowd-pleaser on the replays. Not only this, but it shaved off valuable seconds from their time.

Finally, they hit the ninth furlong. Now was time to move. Erin let go, giving the reins and the stick to Ophelia, who snorted, stretched out her neck, and gave it the gallop to be envious of! Cream-colored mane and tail streamed out behind her as Lady Ophelia took off, using the last three furlongs as an extra speedway to keep ahead of the closers and the other, slower overall horses back - they'd be putting in their sprints now, to try and catch the frontrunner Ophelia and overtake her. Here, they thought she'd be tired, but Erin was determined to show them just how much the filly could do!

They stormed past the finish marker, and slowed down around to Connor, who was nodding at the stopwatch. "Let's give them a surprise." He said, showing her the time recorded, "And do that one again."

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WORKOUT STATS

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words| 664
workout surface| Dirt
distance| 12 furlongs
horse| Lady Ophelia
jockey| Erin Trubell
type| closed workout (do not reply)
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