Post by S u N f r O s t ~ on Sept 30, 2012 20:08:05 GMT -5
ETERNAL PHANTOM AND KRYSTAL YHATE
KENTUCKY DERBY WORKOUT
Evening - black sky painted only by the moon's white light. Domain only of those who were not afraid of what stood in their path. Domain of the mightiest of the Night Stalker bloodline, the horses of night, the horses that lived in the dark and even raced better in it. Enter Eternal Phantom. Born of the blood of the Triple Crown, full of the class all her parents endowed. She was a true lover of the night, out of Night Stalker, and her dam El Sol Del Mar had given her too much talent to conceal. She had been in the colt circles from the end of her juvenile season to now, and it showed. She was no soft filly out in the Triple Tiara with the rest. She was the hard knocking black with vengeance sizzling in her veins, going for the Kentucky Derby. The race the fillies of her bloodline had all failed to claim. Sweet Stalker had taken the Preakness and Belmont at Major Horse Shows. El Sol Del Mar had taken the Preakness and the Belmont on this very dirt track. Did the Derby grace her family's records? Not yet - but be assured that it would!
The two top dirt colts of the hour had been entered in the Derby. There was Euphoria's Warrior, who had run a top class season thus far for four wins in seven starts. They knew where he would be - right at the back and raring to go. Instant Success, top two year old colt of last year, would also be in the back. He had been running around in the turf and dirt races and dabbling at the Wire, but had recently been focused back to the dirt track and still had his spark. There was no doubt these colts would be tough to beat. Yet Phantie had done it before, and they had taken her down a fair number of times too. They were equally talented and all equally able to take the win here. But this was the Derby. This was Phantie's legacy. She had revenge to claim for the losses her family had suffered over those ten furlongs on this dirt track. This was her hour.
Eternal Phantom wrapped herself in the darkness, blending in as a creature of the night does. She strode forward with new authority, each muscular leg placed forward precisely and unwavering in their prose. She was in her element out here, the darkness cloaking her, shielding her from the cameras of the few reporters who had gotten wind of this workout and were out with their night vision. This was Phantie's final prep workout for the Derby and they wanted to see what she was made of. She'd had two weeks of rest and was raring to go. There was acclaim attached to her name. Four wins in seven starts, the other thirds ending in seconds, and the only horse to beat top filly Paradise Island this season. There was something to her speed and Krystal was looking for a bit of it today. They would wow the crowd and storm away.
Krystal had already discussed the workout plan with Amber. She was to gallop for a mile, gradually getting a bit faster as time went on. She would let Phantie run as comfortably as she wanted. It was likely that they would pace set for this race. The two others were closers, and the pace was theirs to run. Temperamental Phantie was likely to go fast regardless and set some good fractions simply because she's recognize her two competitors from countless faceoffs this year. She remembered both of them and she wanted to crush them, especially after coming second in the Florida Derby last time out. Phantie was out for some blood and she wished for that wreath of roses to be placed around her neck. This was going to be her glorious day. A day of majesty. A day of redemption.
Cantering the filly now, Krystal felt for irregularities and found none. There was only the smooth cadence of her strides and the silent breathing. The world was silent. This was the world of night and Krystal knew that the quieter it was, the more connected she would be with her horse. Phantie was at her nicest at these moments. They snapped together like two pieces of a puzzle when it was nighttime. This was how they had prepped for the Juvenile. This would be how they prepped for each Triple Crown race. Cantering, cantering, spinning a web of glory and hope around her. Tail lightly brushing the air, hooves parting the curtain between this dimension and the one of speed. It was soon to be parted. The cantering rushed, then the galloping came. Krystal eased out the filly and was greeted with speed.
The rushing of the wind became second nature. Controlling of the horse became second nature. Phantie needed no tempering. She went right into her workout gallop, living for each stride with zest in each hoofbeat. She was quiet, breathing louder now but quiet, and it seemed as though the night welcomed her very presence. Moving along, going a bit faster now after a slower twenty five flat quarter, picking up the pace as per her instructions. The increase in pace was natural. There was nothing to it. Phantie felt no muscular aches and she was raring to go for the gold as they passed the half in an ever diminishing forty eight. Pace still increasing, legs beginning to blur now, mane whipping, ears flattening as Phantie began to fight for her head. This was child's play. This was speed she easily handled.
The wind burned as she was released further. One eleven and counting three quarters. Sprinting now, beginning to release the pent up energy and the overflowing talent. Gliding ghostly, phantom like. The best runner leaves no tracks. She ran as though she was flying, and Krystal was mindless as she guided and bonded and felt each leap of the filly's legs as though they were her own reaching and pulling and reaching again. They were flying, and they hit the mile, and dropped their pace easily and sweating slightly. She was loose and she was ready. Phantie's eyes gleamed in the night air as she took it in again with nothing short of triumph in those depths.
The ghost horse, the phantom that haunted her opponents' minds, was on the prowl. Vengeance would be hers. The Derby would at last belong to her family name. Not only that, but glory as well. The wreath of roses would be theirs.
