Post by S u N f r O s t ~ on Jun 26, 2012 22:29:56 GMT -5
FIRE DANCER AND KRYSTAL YHATE
BREEDERS CUP LADIES CLASSIC WORKOUT
The filly was seventeen hands high, which was really tall for a filly like herself. She used this to her advantage. The glance she shot over the horses around her was nothing short of imperious. Any that dared to meet her look was met with a fiery glare and an intimidating set of the head that quickly had them looking away. All in all, the filly appeared to be a quiet beast. In reality, she was one of the most determined and amazing fillies Krystal Yhate rode. This dear filly had finished third in every leg of the Triple Tiara. She had worked hard to prove herself. And though she had garnered some admiration from others, she was far from proven. She was merely a grade four. How was that impressive? Though recently she had been impressive in winning the Novizio Derby...
That had been her most recent start. At least, Krystal thought it had been. Now, she and Fire Dancer stood on the dirt track, shifting a little bit. As every horse from SOPS had up to this point, they surveyed the track, looking for horses working and measuring the worth of the others. Fire wasn't truly looking at the others, though. She appeared to be fixated on the horizon, where the sun was just peaking over the lip of the world. The weak rays poured onto the filly's bay coat, setting it alight, and Fire shifted slightly in response to the sudden influx of warmth. Krystal relaxed a little bit into the saddle, sighing. Breeders Cup week was wreaking havoc on the staff, especially since every horse was running. But they were willing to put in the time to make them shine. To do any less, to deny horses worthy of an appearance this opportunity, was a crime. And there was always the SOPS motto to refer back to - go down fighting.
It was time to move. Krystal clucked to the mare, and the three year old instantly moved off in a loping trot. Her hooves were lifted high over the dirt, set back down carefully, as though if she placed them too hard the dirt would shatter from beneath her hooves. Krystal tolerated this daintiness until it was time to canter. Then, she urged Fire into the faster pace, and the stride dynamics changed. Each hoofbeat was hard, a steady pound that echoed around the track. It was powerful. It was a regular stride full of power and the spirit of a horse who didn't back down. It was Fire Dancer, and as the sun rose fully it painted her in wreaths of flame and made her seem unearthly. The filly was gorgeous even if she was third best at almost anything she tried at.
The Ladies Classic, at nine furlongs, was a tough call to run in. They were undoubtedly the long shots. It was cool that Afterglow had been scratched, as it meant one less horse to race against, but the competition was formidable. Dark Sunrise had been sold to Akita Rose Stables and ended up winning the Dubai Filly Cup against the best not one week later. She had become grade one, and a classy filly that would be closing from behind. Silverianna was the three year old filly who Krystal wanted to pulverize. They had lost to her a lot this year, and she wanted to defeat her. The filly had won two legs of the Triple Tiara and was a grade three. She would be a preceder. Vindictive Fury was the final competitor, and the favorite. She would be the speed of the race, and she was going to be fast. Krystal thought she was the competition they would not defeat. They stood a narrow chance against Dark Sunrise and a chance narrower still against Silverianna. Vinny was out of their league. It would take a miracle to defeat that mare.
But miracles did happen. If Vinny set too suicidal a pace and was pressured a lot by Ianna, then Fire and Sunny would close and stand a chance at nabbing the win. In fact, Krystal was rather worried about Sunny. She had ridden the filly and knew of her talent. She knew what a closing kick they had. Fire could be breaking from her position behind the Star Thoroughbreds duo and actually defeating those tiring fillies and grabbing the lead, but Sunny was likely to come out of nowhere and grab it as well. It was a very scary situation. Krystal wanted Fire to prove herself more, to reach grade one and the heights beyond. She wanted this daughter of Native Flame to prove his bloodline and talent. A win here was great but unlikely. They would settle for a fantastic performance.
It burned within Fire, this will to show herself. She wanted to be amazing simply because she loved to run. She wanted to express herself out there and show the world that she wasn't the third rate filly they thought she was. She was the longest shot and the lowest grade in the Ladies Classic, but she had earned the chance to be here by her performance this year. Krystal nodded. They would just work hard, galloping about six furlongs today. The race was nine furlongs long. They would have time to make key decisions, but Krystal's riding would need to be absolutely perfect in order to stand a chance at a win. The canter was free floating and smooth now; Krystal felt that Fire was ready to gallop. She fed the filly some rein and held on for the ride.
The acceleration was gradual, and then it became dramatic. They blew forward, and Fire's black mane blew back in Krystal's face. She felt as though they were riding into a sunrise of sorts. Fire moved smoothly and conservatively, smartly not sprinting right at the start of this workout. Krystal prodded the filly some more. She wanted to give the clockers a fast time to gossip about. One furlong, two furlongs, and then Fire gave more. She increased the speed and poured some more on. Krystal hoped they wouldn't suddenly crash into a random horse and that the others working on the track had the good sense to stay away when they were clocking for a time like this.
Three furlongs, four. Now Krystal asked Fire for all of it, and she got it. The acceleration was immediate and trained. They had worked to make it fast, so that they could attack at the exact moment that attacking was needed. Five furlongs, six, and then Krystal was pulling the regal filly up. The three year old tossed her head, but then restrained herself, slowing to a canter. Krystal cooled her down, all the while marveling at the imperious way the filly had slowed, as though of her own accord, and at the look she gave to any horse that crossed their path.
