wild prancing

He distanced himself from the world as soon as he was born. The bay newly turned two year old was still like that - utterly emotionless and interested only in keeping his dominance. He didn't care a thing about the world, but it wasn't like he cared a whole lot for himself either. The Whippet son strode regally out onto the turf track, looking over his 'empire' in an arrogant fashion. He swagger-trotted forward when I asked for a pick up of the pace, and I slapped him lightly on the neck. Enough Prancer I growled. The colt's personality got to me sometimes. He didn't seem to care about anything, anyone, or even himself. The only thing that got him started was his quest for dominance, and that was what we were going to work him on today.

Prancer had gotten sixth out of eight in his debut race. While the distance didn't exactly fit his bill I knew he was capable of much more. That was why we were out here today - Amber and I had cooked up a scheme to get his juices flowing and himself ready for his second race. We would work something in the middle of his preferences, like ten or eleven furlongs, in a mock race style. I just wished I knew who our competitor was.

The filly skittered sideways excitedly and bugled loudly to the bay colt as soon as we set hoof on the turf track. No, Tura! I growled, but a faint smile played on my face. She was full of energy today, and ready to go. She had made her debut a couple days ago and finished an excellent second, something I was very proud of. She had the potential and was just beginning to live up to it. All she needed was a tinge more inspiration to snatch that win next time around. The workout today would focus on that.

Whip Up The Dancing had the potential to do well, an opinion strongly supported by Krystal, but in his maiden debut he had lost the dominance. He needed the dominance to keep going and to excel, and I knew he was stewing about it. He would probably be unbeatable in his next race, which I thought I had found. I wasn't sure about running Tura, but my decisions would be made final by tomorrow morning. But now we had work to do!

My sleek black filly trotted excitedly towards the colt, nickering and stretching out her neck to sniff. I watched Prancer curiously for his reaction to the equine interaction.

The colt didn't so much as budge when Tura reached out to sniff him. I examined Amber's only mount of this year's two year old crop, nodding appreciatively at her sleek lines and well muscled hindquarters. The filly had done impressively in her first start and was just the thing to get Prancer motivated. How long are we running for? Ten furlongs? I asked and then guessed excitedly. I couldn't wait to get started with this race.

I kept a tight hold on Tura in case she grew to be overly curious about her competitor today. Yes, ten furlongs I said, and pat Tura's neck. The filly could run ten furlongs beautifully, but Prancer had the advantage, seeing as it was in the middle of his preferences. Tura needed two furlongs more to reach her preference niche, but this work was geared towards helping Prancer do better in his next race. Tura would also get a good experience out of it.

I turned my mount and started for the inside of the turf track at a canter. Meet you at the gates I called back and then set off briskly, sitting to Tura's usual wide-strided pace.

I nodded in assent and then waited a couple seconds before moving off with Prancer at his canter. His paces were an interesting thing to observe, more like a quiet bound that could go on for miles than a racing speed. But when he was asked, Prancer would turn on the speed easily and eagerly. Once more, the dominance was what he sought. I had always wondered for the reasons of this behavior and his wanting of the command, but it made him who he was, and it could just be what his personality had to be, as decreed by whoever.

Prancer suddenly stretched out, his neck reached forward. He didn't utter a sound, but I could tell he was content and warming up. The colt knew that he was going to race, as he could tell from the filly cantering a couple lengths in front of us, and he was ready to take her down.

We reached the gates first, and Tura whinnied loudly. She was seeking attention again, a very Impressario-like attitude. I reined her in sharply and nudged her firmly with my heels. The filly refocused after I did this a couple of times, and Prancer had caught up to us. When he stopped she snorted once and then loaded into the gates easily. She tensed now, ready to run and capture the attention of the crowd once more.

Wildly Natural's running style was as a closer, but she just didn't want the dominance. My job would be to make her run for joy rather than winning, and I hoped we would come out on top. She needed it, but maybe Prancer needed it more? Krystal could tell me that.....but it was too late now. I crouched down and held tightly to some mane and the reins, ready for the break.

We arrived to see Tura putting on a show, prancing sideways and snorting impatiently. Prancer stopped, completely emotionless, and then Tura loaded easily into the gates. I rolled my eyes with a smile on my face, amused by Tura's antics, and then asked for Prancer to load. The bay thoroughbred strolled right in, neutral as always, and I prepared for the break. My crouch was lower than Amber's, promoting more speed. Since Tura was a closer and opposite in her opinions of dominance from Prancer, we would lead, but only by a length or so. I wanted the pace to be reasonable for the ten furlongs ahead of us.

Prancer didn't fidget at all, but I could tell he was as tensed and ready as I was. We were ready for the gates to open.

There was a loud CLANG and then the gates opened. Tura burst forward in a nice, quick break. I realized that Prancer had broken half a beat late. What did that mean for me and Tura? My filly was a closer. I tried to urge her on a bit, and the filly didn't take the extra rein. She seemed content just to run along calmly, not at all harried to get in front.

Would Krystal really let us lead instead of her thirsty-for-the-win Prancer?

When the gates opened Prancer broke much slower than usual. Tura was already a length ahead, a black filly unwilling to go much faster than a crawl until she had somebody to follow. I decided to let Prancer go up front, and urged him on. He was all too happy to oblige, widening his stride and slowly taking the lead two furlongs in. He then continued to widen the distance to no resistance at all from Tura, which was what I expected. Amber had to get Tura revved up for the win before anything happened.

Another furlong passed, and we were smoothly gliding along with seven furlongs left to go. I glanced under my arm and saw that Prancer had a very comfortable lead of five lengths that was still growing - but I knew Tura could rip across that distance in seconds and could still easily beat us. I turned back to front and asked for a bit more speed, and as Prancer responded I knew we were going at an all-too-good pace.

Tura was as unwilling as always to go, and despite my urgings the gap between her and Prancer grew. I knew she had more speed than this. Her wide strides could eat up the turf and she could pass Prancer, now eight lengths ahead of us, if she was just encouraged some more. Two furlongs went by, and we were nearing the final turn. We had four or five furlongs left to go, and a gap to decrease. Come on Tura, don't you love your speed? I whispered to her. Her ear flicked back, and then the spark was lit.

Her strides widened enormously, and she thrust her head forward, asking for more rein. I was only too happy to let her rip, and suddenly we were the only creatures around. Her speed was tremendous, and she zipped over the turf track, rapidly closing the distance between us and Prancer. We were at the final turn, and I reined her in a bit to the outside so we could pass Prancer if we needed to. Exhilaration filled us both, and joy lit her soul's candle. We were flying without abandon, and it was Prancer's turn to floor it to that wire.

I glanced back as we hit the final turn, and felt a keen sense of urgency rush through me. Tura was roaring towards us, her strides eating up the firm turf track, and our only option was to begin our run now. I refocused on the front and realized that Prancer was already quickening his stride, feeling his lead was threatened and not wanting to be passed again. His short strides came in faster and faster bursts, and now the blurring was beginning to happen, and the wind was tearing at my eyes.

Tura appeared just behind us, a black form on our outside. Prancer instantly angled himself more to the outside, pushing her out farther and taking full advantage of the turn. I grinned and urged him on some more, liking the power suddenly thrumming through his veins. His ears were flattened as he fought for his lead, as he fought for his right to the dominance. He was an angel flying with wings, and the green track disappeared under his hooves. The wire was upon us, and as we crossed it I glanced to the side and saw Tura a half length behind, right on our flank.

Prancer had the potential to be great, it was quite clear now. I urged Tura on as hard as I could, but she was going quite near flat out and couldn't keep up with the thunderstorm that was Whip Up The Dancing. We crossed the wire a half length behind, and I pat her neck in praise. The filly whinnied in between panting breaths, slowing at my command and looking quite happy at being shown some more attention. I rolled my eyes at her attention getter attitude before trotting her, and then walking her. I stopped, waiting for Krystal and Prancer to join us.

Prancer slowed when I asked. I could tell he was quietly pleased with himself by the tilt of his head that suggested arrogance and pride. He was happy to reclaim his dominance, but kept an emotionless countenance as always. I was grinning broadly as I turned the victorious colt around and jogged him back to Amber. How did we do?

Fabulous. He's gotten his confidence - aka his dominance - back. He'll do great in his next race, I'm sure of it! I grinned broadly at my first staff member ever. Tura here will kick his butt at anything longer though, like eleven furlongs. Do you want to race them at that distance next time?

Thanks Amber, but no. I still have to face Henna's ridiculous challenge to deal with. I laughed. Twelve furlongs, pswaw! Mona can run anything, even if it suits Fire better. I noticed Amber's small grin as I trotted Prancer off of the track. The challenge would be honored soon, and I was already planning how best to win already.....