Post by symphony on Aug 5, 2012 10:02:40 GMT -5
Because I love writing stuff and all that xD
The morning was no different to any other. Wake up at three to complete darkness and more often than not a layer of fog that seemed to enjoy hanging in the pre-dawn air. Quick dressing to avoid the effects of the freezing air was followed by a mug of steaming coffee and a few pieces of toast or a bowl of cereal, depending on what she felt like at that particular moment, and then she would head out to the stables, coffee mug still in hand.
It was around the time that she finished looking in on each horse, straightening rugs and feeling legs for any sign of heat or injury that had appeared during the night that Darren would arrive. From three-thirty onwards, every morning without fail, he was there working tirelessly until works were finished and the stables completely in order. Even then, some mornings he would stay longer to help her out with training schedules or other matters that needed to be dealt with.
This morning, as Tally made her rounds, he was early. Just as she looked in on Coursette, who was cranky and already heavy with foal, his old truck rattled up the drive, towing a horse trailer. Several minutes later, he walked in leading a handsome, prancing chestnut colt with striking splash markings and an attitude to match them.
"Just picked this little beauty up from the sale yards," Darren told her, grinning like a madman as she put down the coffee cup and examined the colt. She could already see he had class and attitude, with his head and tail thrown high in the air as he examined his surroundings. His conformation was excellent, and from the length of his legs he looked as though he had quite a stride. The head was fine and slightly dished, a medly of white and chestnut with the odd mask-like marking that covered it. The thing that striked her as most odd about it though were his eyes; one brown, the other blue.
"He's perfect," she replied, tearing her eyes off of the colt. "I can't wait to see what he can do on the track."
Darren nodded in agreement, before replying that they should probably let the colt settle in and get organised for the morning works. Agreeing, Tally directed him towards stall 17, next to sweet Essy who wouldn't go picking a fight with him, and went to finish her rounds. Their other new horse, Indigo Falls, was watching the scene with great curiousity, Tally noticed. She didn't have as high hopes for Indy as she did for this colt; the filly was four years old now and had been purchased more as a breeding prospect than a racer, but still she would set foot on the track once or twice before breeding, if all went to plan.
It was almost 4:30am by the time they had a neat row of saddles and bridles hanging in the saddling yards by the track, along with buckets of warm water and towels. Syllable and Essy were the first ones to go, brought down by Amy who reported that Selena had arrived and was caring for the broodmares, and the new colt looked as though he had settled in quite well in the short amount of time he had been there.
"Tell Selena she'll be riding Sola and Indy today, possibly Zorya," Tally called to Darren as he left the row. He nodded in response, and she turned to Amy. "Take Essy for a gallop, but don't breeze her right out. Just a gentle one over six furlongs, don't push her for anything she doesn't want to give, and don't let her breeze flat out. See if you can figure out the reason she hasn't run so well in races."
Amy nodded as well and turned her attention to the inky black filly. Confident that things would go as she had planned at least until she came back, Tally slipped Syllable's rug off and threw the saddle pad onto his back gently, soon having him completely tacked up and ready to go. A quick leg-up from a man working with a string opposite theirs in the row, and she was off, nervy Syl bouncing from side to side as he spooked at any object that was hidden in the shadows of the morning. Even when they stepped onto the soft turf of the track and he was allowed to trot, he did not settle, ears pricked straight forward and stride choppy as he focussed on everything except the job at hand. In particular, he didn't like the wet ground that sucked at his feet; every now and then, an ear would flick in annoyance and he would toss and dip his head, trying to grab hold of the bit. Only when they moved into a canter along the backstretch did he focus, suddenly spying another horse moving quite quickly along the inner rail. The horse all but dissapeared into the fog, and Syl tried to follow, but Tally held him back.
"Not yet boy," she whispered to the colt, who flicked one ear back to catch her words. In response to the half-halts and calming tone of voice, he slowed slightly, cantering once more.
Halfway along the backstretch, Tally urged him into a slow gallop. Syl sprang forward eagerly, though she held him back once more, waiting. It was only when they had four furlongs to go that she grabbed a handful of mane, leant forward, and asked for the powerful burst of speed that sprinters like him were known for.
The result was almost instant; he shot forward like he had just been fired from the gate, pouring his heart into it. Tally didn't hold him back, but merely sat there as if simply along for the ride. Syl was in an extremely good mood today, and almost at his peak despite it only being the start of the season. He had already run two races; third in the first, and not quite in form, and then a win, almost textbook in performance. Two lengths to the horses behind him, it had been.
The first and second furlongs passed at a blazing speed; the third a fraction slower. As they entered the fourth, Tally asked him for that little bit more effort, and he gave it, digging deep into the soggy ground despite his hatred for soft turf, and increasing his speed. As they flashed past the 'wire' and she asked him to slow, she was grinning. The last furlong had had to be faster than any of the others. Making a mental note to ask Darren, who was by the marker that had been their finishing post for today timing, she gradually slowed Syl to a gentle canter and turned him back towards the gap, taking one hand off the reins for a moment to give him a quick pat.
Essy returned almost at the same time as Syl and Tally; Amy rode in just as Tally's feet hit the ground. At seeing the other horse, Syllable flicked his ears back and pulled a face, warning her to keep her distance or there would be trouble. Amy dismounted four stalls away and began removing Essy's saddle almost immediately.
"How did she go?" Tally asked, working on Syl's saddle as well. "Did you figure anything out?"
Amy shook her head. "Maybe she's just not as fast as we though she was," she replied, replacing the filly's bridle with a halter. "Her work was slower than most of her races."
"Maybe," Tally replied simply, before leading Syl out of the stall and taking him for a walk around the row. There were several other stables that used the saddling yards each morning, and as she passed them, Syl lay his ears back and threatened each and every horse he lay eyes on. His work had gotten rid of all that nervous energy, but the colt had replaced it with his usual semi-aggressive behaviour which had been absent that morning. Tally sighed. Perhaps gelding him would be a good solution after all.
They completed two rounds of the row, then Syl had a quick roll and a bath, by which time Darren had arrived, along with Selena leading Sola and Zorya. Darren offered to towel down Syllable and take him back to the stable, where he could collect Storm and work him, and Tally accepted, wanting to look at Syl's final time for the breezing. Roughly 42 seconds for the four furlongs; not a bad time at all. It was just what she was looking for in the colt; peak condition.
Tally Cremer and Syllable
The morning was no different to any other. Wake up at three to complete darkness and more often than not a layer of fog that seemed to enjoy hanging in the pre-dawn air. Quick dressing to avoid the effects of the freezing air was followed by a mug of steaming coffee and a few pieces of toast or a bowl of cereal, depending on what she felt like at that particular moment, and then she would head out to the stables, coffee mug still in hand.
It was around the time that she finished looking in on each horse, straightening rugs and feeling legs for any sign of heat or injury that had appeared during the night that Darren would arrive. From three-thirty onwards, every morning without fail, he was there working tirelessly until works were finished and the stables completely in order. Even then, some mornings he would stay longer to help her out with training schedules or other matters that needed to be dealt with.
This morning, as Tally made her rounds, he was early. Just as she looked in on Coursette, who was cranky and already heavy with foal, his old truck rattled up the drive, towing a horse trailer. Several minutes later, he walked in leading a handsome, prancing chestnut colt with striking splash markings and an attitude to match them.
"Just picked this little beauty up from the sale yards," Darren told her, grinning like a madman as she put down the coffee cup and examined the colt. She could already see he had class and attitude, with his head and tail thrown high in the air as he examined his surroundings. His conformation was excellent, and from the length of his legs he looked as though he had quite a stride. The head was fine and slightly dished, a medly of white and chestnut with the odd mask-like marking that covered it. The thing that striked her as most odd about it though were his eyes; one brown, the other blue.
"He's perfect," she replied, tearing her eyes off of the colt. "I can't wait to see what he can do on the track."
Darren nodded in agreement, before replying that they should probably let the colt settle in and get organised for the morning works. Agreeing, Tally directed him towards stall 17, next to sweet Essy who wouldn't go picking a fight with him, and went to finish her rounds. Their other new horse, Indigo Falls, was watching the scene with great curiousity, Tally noticed. She didn't have as high hopes for Indy as she did for this colt; the filly was four years old now and had been purchased more as a breeding prospect than a racer, but still she would set foot on the track once or twice before breeding, if all went to plan.
It was almost 4:30am by the time they had a neat row of saddles and bridles hanging in the saddling yards by the track, along with buckets of warm water and towels. Syllable and Essy were the first ones to go, brought down by Amy who reported that Selena had arrived and was caring for the broodmares, and the new colt looked as though he had settled in quite well in the short amount of time he had been there.
"Tell Selena she'll be riding Sola and Indy today, possibly Zorya," Tally called to Darren as he left the row. He nodded in response, and she turned to Amy. "Take Essy for a gallop, but don't breeze her right out. Just a gentle one over six furlongs, don't push her for anything she doesn't want to give, and don't let her breeze flat out. See if you can figure out the reason she hasn't run so well in races."
Amy nodded as well and turned her attention to the inky black filly. Confident that things would go as she had planned at least until she came back, Tally slipped Syllable's rug off and threw the saddle pad onto his back gently, soon having him completely tacked up and ready to go. A quick leg-up from a man working with a string opposite theirs in the row, and she was off, nervy Syl bouncing from side to side as he spooked at any object that was hidden in the shadows of the morning. Even when they stepped onto the soft turf of the track and he was allowed to trot, he did not settle, ears pricked straight forward and stride choppy as he focussed on everything except the job at hand. In particular, he didn't like the wet ground that sucked at his feet; every now and then, an ear would flick in annoyance and he would toss and dip his head, trying to grab hold of the bit. Only when they moved into a canter along the backstretch did he focus, suddenly spying another horse moving quite quickly along the inner rail. The horse all but dissapeared into the fog, and Syl tried to follow, but Tally held him back.
"Not yet boy," she whispered to the colt, who flicked one ear back to catch her words. In response to the half-halts and calming tone of voice, he slowed slightly, cantering once more.
Halfway along the backstretch, Tally urged him into a slow gallop. Syl sprang forward eagerly, though she held him back once more, waiting. It was only when they had four furlongs to go that she grabbed a handful of mane, leant forward, and asked for the powerful burst of speed that sprinters like him were known for.
The result was almost instant; he shot forward like he had just been fired from the gate, pouring his heart into it. Tally didn't hold him back, but merely sat there as if simply along for the ride. Syl was in an extremely good mood today, and almost at his peak despite it only being the start of the season. He had already run two races; third in the first, and not quite in form, and then a win, almost textbook in performance. Two lengths to the horses behind him, it had been.
The first and second furlongs passed at a blazing speed; the third a fraction slower. As they entered the fourth, Tally asked him for that little bit more effort, and he gave it, digging deep into the soggy ground despite his hatred for soft turf, and increasing his speed. As they flashed past the 'wire' and she asked him to slow, she was grinning. The last furlong had had to be faster than any of the others. Making a mental note to ask Darren, who was by the marker that had been their finishing post for today timing, she gradually slowed Syl to a gentle canter and turned him back towards the gap, taking one hand off the reins for a moment to give him a quick pat.
Essy returned almost at the same time as Syl and Tally; Amy rode in just as Tally's feet hit the ground. At seeing the other horse, Syllable flicked his ears back and pulled a face, warning her to keep her distance or there would be trouble. Amy dismounted four stalls away and began removing Essy's saddle almost immediately.
"How did she go?" Tally asked, working on Syl's saddle as well. "Did you figure anything out?"
Amy shook her head. "Maybe she's just not as fast as we though she was," she replied, replacing the filly's bridle with a halter. "Her work was slower than most of her races."
"Maybe," Tally replied simply, before leading Syl out of the stall and taking him for a walk around the row. There were several other stables that used the saddling yards each morning, and as she passed them, Syl lay his ears back and threatened each and every horse he lay eyes on. His work had gotten rid of all that nervous energy, but the colt had replaced it with his usual semi-aggressive behaviour which had been absent that morning. Tally sighed. Perhaps gelding him would be a good solution after all.
They completed two rounds of the row, then Syl had a quick roll and a bath, by which time Darren had arrived, along with Selena leading Sola and Zorya. Darren offered to towel down Syllable and take him back to the stable, where he could collect Storm and work him, and Tally accepted, wanting to look at Syl's final time for the breezing. Roughly 42 seconds for the four furlongs; not a bad time at all. It was just what she was looking for in the colt; peak condition.