Post by Kenren on Apr 4, 2015 11:36:53 GMT -5
Luminous Wave & Desmond Drake
Phantasm Frost & Clarimonde Tusaint
Alucard & Savita Tusaint
Phantasm Frost & Clarimonde Tusaint
Alucard & Savita Tusaint
Desmond was the first out to the track, opting to get a little less sleep in favor of giving his juvenile mount a little extra attention. Luminous Wave was very much the typical Valkyrie two-year-old - short on wins but high in consistency, the filly hadn't finished out of the money in any of her first six starts. Lumi was an energetic creature, never wanting to stand still for longer than a moment, and she danced around now predictably. Desmond urged her out into a trot, taking her in large, sweeping circles on the outer edge of the track. He was hoping that getting her edge off would help her to focus in the following work, but he wasn't holding his breath on it. Lumi was just one of those horses that didn't put her heart into a work. She was distracted and goofy and just didn't take it seriously. I took race day edge and crowd and everything else that went with it to get her into a fighting mood. He was noticing, though, that she was behaving a little better than normal. Perhaps it was being at the track with even a few spectators in the stands that had her a little more into it. Even then, though, he was constantly having to jiggle the reins and pull her head around when she found something that interested her. Silly thing.
It wasn't too long before Lumi's attention caught on horses walking toward her, and she let out a string of whickers. One of the horses whinnied a reply, and Desmond nearly laughed at the subtle grimace Clarimonde gave. Savita did laugh, and seemed to make some teasing comment to her brother. Desmond was too far away to hear what it was, but Demond didn't really look amused. Not that he ever did. The horse that had answered was his mount, the three-year-old sprinter Phantasm Frost. The son of Cryin' Out Loud was perhaps not a complete frontrunner in the turf sprinter division, but he definitely couldn't be considered an outlier long shot either. The colt had done fairly well for himself as a juvenile, and he hadn't finished out of the money yet this year. His single win on the year so far had nabbed him grade three status, and he took the weight of expectation very well. He was pretty unflappable, and with Clarimonde on board, he had all of the direction he'd ever need.
Alucard, the last of the group, was setting himself up for perhaps his greatest season to date. Struck with a good old case of seconditis for years, the four-year-old had started off the year with two wins and three seconds - still more seconds that wins, but not in a way that was bad quite yet. Luca was two wins away from grade one status, and everyone could feel it in their bones that he was about to go out and shake things up. He was being a handful for Savita now that they'd stopped moving, eyes rolling and ears pinning at the colt beside him until Clarimonde moved Frost on. Desmond got them all moving before the stallion could really start acting up, and the three horses moved in a loosely spread formation to complete their warm-ups. Frost stayed fairly close to Lumi, liking the company, and Alucard was kept at a distance while Savita fought to wrangle in his aggressive energy. They finished fairly quickly, and Desmond led the others to the rail and got Lumi up to a gallop. The filly responded loftily, not with any real focus, but a sharp snap of the reins got her to at least stretch out a bit. Alucard came in just behind her, and the pressure there got the juvenile a little more motivated. Frost was in no hurry, settling another length back. The three of them were going for a bullet two furlongs, so the trailers didn't stay behind the juvenile for long. Much to Desmond's chagrin, Lumi did apparently still realize it wasn't race day, so she only gave half-hearted chase to Alucard when he charged past her, Frost driving after him. He urged the filly, but she just wasn't really interested, and he eventually just gave it up for a loss.
On the front end, the wire was approaching quickly, with Frost under a hand ride and no urging but still doing a decent job keeping up with the older horse. At least, right up until the last few strides. Savita shook Luca up right before the wire and the stallion dug for more, pulling away with each stretched stride. He only let up when Savita asked it of him, and only at that point did Frost get to slip by. Lumi was loftily catching up, seemingly immune to her rider's frustration. Savita couldn't help but laugh. "If you ever get a bulleted work out of her, remind me to give you a motivator of the year award." Desmond just sighed, shaking his head and patting the filly's neck. "At least she's a different horse for a race," he said ruefully, and would have to be content with that.
It wasn't too long before Lumi's attention caught on horses walking toward her, and she let out a string of whickers. One of the horses whinnied a reply, and Desmond nearly laughed at the subtle grimace Clarimonde gave. Savita did laugh, and seemed to make some teasing comment to her brother. Desmond was too far away to hear what it was, but Demond didn't really look amused. Not that he ever did. The horse that had answered was his mount, the three-year-old sprinter Phantasm Frost. The son of Cryin' Out Loud was perhaps not a complete frontrunner in the turf sprinter division, but he definitely couldn't be considered an outlier long shot either. The colt had done fairly well for himself as a juvenile, and he hadn't finished out of the money yet this year. His single win on the year so far had nabbed him grade three status, and he took the weight of expectation very well. He was pretty unflappable, and with Clarimonde on board, he had all of the direction he'd ever need.
Alucard, the last of the group, was setting himself up for perhaps his greatest season to date. Struck with a good old case of seconditis for years, the four-year-old had started off the year with two wins and three seconds - still more seconds that wins, but not in a way that was bad quite yet. Luca was two wins away from grade one status, and everyone could feel it in their bones that he was about to go out and shake things up. He was being a handful for Savita now that they'd stopped moving, eyes rolling and ears pinning at the colt beside him until Clarimonde moved Frost on. Desmond got them all moving before the stallion could really start acting up, and the three horses moved in a loosely spread formation to complete their warm-ups. Frost stayed fairly close to Lumi, liking the company, and Alucard was kept at a distance while Savita fought to wrangle in his aggressive energy. They finished fairly quickly, and Desmond led the others to the rail and got Lumi up to a gallop. The filly responded loftily, not with any real focus, but a sharp snap of the reins got her to at least stretch out a bit. Alucard came in just behind her, and the pressure there got the juvenile a little more motivated. Frost was in no hurry, settling another length back. The three of them were going for a bullet two furlongs, so the trailers didn't stay behind the juvenile for long. Much to Desmond's chagrin, Lumi did apparently still realize it wasn't race day, so she only gave half-hearted chase to Alucard when he charged past her, Frost driving after him. He urged the filly, but she just wasn't really interested, and he eventually just gave it up for a loss.
On the front end, the wire was approaching quickly, with Frost under a hand ride and no urging but still doing a decent job keeping up with the older horse. At least, right up until the last few strides. Savita shook Luca up right before the wire and the stallion dug for more, pulling away with each stretched stride. He only let up when Savita asked it of him, and only at that point did Frost get to slip by. Lumi was loftily catching up, seemingly immune to her rider's frustration. Savita couldn't help but laugh. "If you ever get a bulleted work out of her, remind me to give you a motivator of the year award." Desmond just sighed, shaking his head and patting the filly's neck. "At least she's a different horse for a race," he said ruefully, and would have to be content with that.