gripping mortality

[Dante]

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DEVIL'S CRUSADE

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workout with
TOBIAS LANCASTER[/b]
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Monster. Tobias lived on Monster energy drinks. Hell, his pee had been green for the last while thanks to the drink, which was kinda gross and kinda cool, and also a sign of just how much the jockey put into the horses. It was six in the morning. And he was out here, on the turf track before most of the staff of the facility. Any wonder why he needed those energy drinks now? Six was the earliest they could book the track for a mock run, and they wanted to get the black stallion through his paces before anyone was going to show up, for a couple reasons. One, it would hide his results from potential competitors. Two, it made it less likely anyone was going to do some stupid Gallop Article. His brother, Moses, who was here to time Devil's Crusade, swore he didn't know who the nasty reporters were. But ever since the Gallop had opened up more publicly, people were attacking stables. Prison Hill was thus far unscathed, but honestly it would only be a matter of time before someone harped on them - probably either Erin or Connor - and everyone was a little paranoid, except the mentioned two.

"Well...here we are." Moses yawned as he looked back up at his brother, who sat on the back of the black stallion. "I'll be in the stands, with the stopwatch. You know how this works better than I do." Tobias laughed at his little brother's words, and nodded. Devil's Crusade pawed a little, and then they were off to the gates. Today was to be nine furlongs on the turf. Tobias was fairly confident in the stallion. Yes, he hadn't won last year, but he'd been super consistent, and with a bit of maturity now? He had a feeling this was going to go very well for them, it was just a matter of working. Devil's Crusade was one of the first horses to race for Prison Hill Stables, and he wasn't going to go out in obscurity. Oh no. The four year old was going to make it, Tobias was sure.

Crux went into the gate fairly easily, and Tobias yawned in the moment before the gates opened. That yawn meant it would be time for a monster right after this. More caffeine. More. It kept his weight down, too, but those thoughts were banished as the gates opened. Crux broke well, putting himself into a good position for a midrunner, anyways. He wasn't fast, he wasn't low. He'd fling himself right into the middle of things, and that's where he felt he belonged. They would run in the middle for a time, and move along as the race went on. He was a creeper, effectively. He moved up slowly in the second half, until near the end, when suddenly, he was in the front out of almost nowhere. It kept him out of the worst of the dogfighting, and allowed him to compete to his heart's content at the same time, which was what the competitive stallion liked.

Tobias could see an imaginary field around him, where horses jostled up every which way. Crux would be able to fight off the other midrunners, and steadily speed up. There were no wild bursts of speed from the colt, and he didn't need them, either. All he needed was to keep edging up.

And that was exactly what they did. Bit by bit, Crux moved forwards as the furlongs passed by. He wove a little in the turn, which was where everyone spaced out a bit - and thus a key place for him to go forwards and take more ground, and by the last furlongs or so, they'd be vying for first. At least, that's how it worked in his head. It was not a spectacular or showy victory. It was creeping up until it was too late for anyone to stop him. That was the point, not a show, and Crux knew it.

Once they passed the nine furlongs marker the black stallion and his jockey met up with the jockey-reporter near the edge of the track as the sun began to rise. "On the risk of sounding like Skylark," Moses declared, "I like the time a lot. I'm kind of confident." He mimed Skylark's slightly small-stepped walk, and both brothers burst out in laughter, causing Crux's head to shoot up, eyes wide. "Sorry," Moses said to the stallion, "It's just too early. But if we can run this good this early, think about the possibilities when we're awake!"

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WORKOUT STATS

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words| 765
workout surface| Turf
distance| 9 furlongs
horse| Devil's Crusade
jockey| Tobias Lancaster
type| closed workout (do not reply)
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