Post by Sussy on Jan 13, 2014 5:58:06 GMT -5
Majestic Hero, Coronation Cup Y14
Third place; it was a position to respect, but was it enough? Jester had been more than ready for a win, his tactic’s strong, his battleplan stronger, and his fitness? One only had to watch the still-growing monster in his standing place, seeking shade beneath the shelter of his yard, the post’s of the structures sending dark lines down his blood bay coat; reflecting against the flawless health of his skin, mirroring the colours that surrounded him, screaming of wealth. He was monstrous, huge and not just in height, for there, several could match him. But build? He was a tank, broad chest and tapered quarters matched by none, a body mass rippling with primed muscle comparable by few. He was made for stamina, to run longer distances, and yet his huge strides and rear-drive gave him the ground covering movement of speed and success. He was a weapon, and no less.
But he could win, Ella just knew he could. And yet she had no idea why he hadn’t yet. Was she doing something wrong; surely a horse could be no fitter, prepared than the colossal machine before her? He was ready, and there was nothing more to it. Experience was now on his side, he had been given his two warm ups, and he had run well. But this time, he would unleash his full potential. Ella opened the gate, holding the halter tight within her right fingers. Immediately his attention would stir, ruby-brown eyes shifting to gaze in her direction, a low ‘Got food?’ nicker vibrating from his nostrils. She would approach him and his neck would crane proudly, lipping at the halter as it was so politely presented to him. He would grab it then, holding it in his front teeth and he would spin around, Ella stepping to the side carefully as his rump would face towards her. But he was not nasty as he was playful, and he would quickly spin back to face her, nodding his head up and down as the rope bobbed against his lips. Ella almost found herself fighting for it back as he eventually gave up, and allowed himself to be caught.
The last thing Ella wanted to do was exhaust him, so today would be something different. With his bridle on only, and Ella all suited-up in her bathers, she would lead the bustling colt out of The Yard’s drive, taking a right as they would walk cautiously along the side of the quiet tar road. They were headed for The River, and although the blood bay monster was currently an excited ball of jogging energy, Ella didn’t doubt a nice swim would be somewhat soothing among a good exercise for his fitness. Tar turned to sand, and soon the brave bay found himself gazing down at the calm waters of the river, thankfully nobody else was down there, and so the duo had the stretch to swim all on their own.
He was cautious to enter, and though it took Ella some persuading to get the blood-bay colt past his knees in the water, he seemed to warm up to the idea quickly. He pushed his nose under the water, waving his head backwards and forwards as he started a current of mini tidal waves, splashing his handler as she shielded her face and laughed. Next he had his forelegs going, splashing out in front of him until Ella almost thought he wanted to roll; urging him deeper and deeper into the water, until his chest was submerged. She grasped him from under the neck, reaching around his chest up towards his whither with her feet, holding on as she drove him inwards until he was surging through the deepest part of the river, swimming.
He would propel forwards with exaggerated lurches, figuring out the best way to keep his head above water. With the stallions immense hind-power, he wasn’t finding it all too difficult, however it did take Ella the extra effort to remain around his chest. He snorted as small amounts of water-spray made contact with his nostrils, flaring as he would gradually learn how to maintain more regular movements that required less effort. The safe area of the river stretched on for miles, and it only widened, bush on one side, cattle farms on the other; it was glorious, and undeniably soothing. Well, it would have been if it weren’t for the seam-bursting stallion she clung to. He pushed on, still not showing any signs of tiring. But she wouldn’t push him, The Coronation Cup was soon, and he needed to be in his prime. She reached backwards, tacking a hold on his bridle as she carefully, gradually pulled his head back the way they had come. He was ready, and she knew it.
