Post by Kenren on Jun 29, 2015 22:45:33 GMT -5
Phantasm Frost & Clarimonde Tusaint
Most pre-Triple races, around Valkyrie at least, tended to be full of excitement and a little nervousness. There were reassurances, last changes to be made, and soothing of the jockey to be done. Sometimes subtle, sometimes outright. But this time was a little different, and everyone had known it would be. Though they were completing their last work before the first leg of the Turf Triple Crown, there seemed to be no outward difference to the behavior of Clarimonde Tusaint. He was quiet as always, stoic, focused on his task. Solid, almost unnerving eye contact, but hardly a word passed between he and his co-workers. Therefore, Phantasm Frost acted no different than usual as he was trotted out for his critical workout. He did notice the crowd, but it didn't make him nervous. The colt practically preened, striking out with powerful movements and arching his neck, tail flaring behind him. It was, of course, not the buzz of race day, but he enjoyed an audience nonetheless.
He was doing a simple breeze, two furlongs to prepare himself for the shortest leg of the trial. Nobody could deny that their competition was fierce - Call Me Crooked had been a dominant sprinter since her juvenile year. However, they had the advantage of a wild card on their side, even if they were not the favorite. Phantasm Frost had proven time and again that he was an unpredictable animal, and not in a bad way. Some would see it as bad luck that the Cryin' Out Loud son had finished out of the money for the first time this season in his last out - however, there was some hope for the Valkyrie staff. The colt didn't take a loss well, and was likely to pull a win when least expected. He'd done it before, and they knew he could do it again. Even if they were in for a fight with a very strong filly.
Clarimonde snapped Frost's reins sharply, and the colt's flouncing behavior muted. Attention back on his rider, the colt demured a little, knowing better than to test the firm jockey too much. Frost lived for praise, and therefore backed down pretty easily when confronted in any way. Clari, having his mount in hand now, asked the bay into a canter. Frost went eagerly, and Clari soothed his earlier harshness with a pet to the colt's neck. He was a firm young man, but he was not cruel. He knew his craft, and had the best seat of any rider at Valkyrie. One of the best that Cole had ever seen. Nobody really worried when he was aboard.
After two furlongs, he let the colt prime for the real action. He got him into a gallop, and held back the barely-contained excitement of the horse with strong arms, leaning back in the stirrups. He might be able to keep Frost minding his manners at lower speeds, but when the bay knew he was about to be let loose, he was a force of nature. When they hit the quarter mile pole, Clari leaned forward and eased the reins, and that was all the urging the colt needed. His acceleration was fearsome over the turf, lifting his chest and flagging his tail as he charged to speed. Clari didn't slow him, allowing him to run to his heart's content - enjoying, inwardly, the joy he felt radiating from his horse. To not have to force a bullet work such as this, to have the horse want it himself, it was... freeing. The wind battered the rider's face as they swept by the wire, still gaining speed and reaching for more. But no, now was not the time for it. That perfect speed, and perfect ride, would come later. At the right time. And he was determined that that time be in the Turquoise Sprint.