found.

[S u N f r O s T ~]

I quietly whistled as I walked down the barn isle. In my hands was a red pail of grain, which I was delivering to the first stall in the racing barn. As I entered, whinnies erupted from the stall. Unlatching it, I stepped into the darkness, poured in the feed, and quickly exited. My sharp eyes caught the shape of a muscular small chestnut diving into the grain. I froze for a moment, admiring the horse, before shutting the door and continuing down the aisle.

Krystal Yhate is my name. I just started working here at SOPS, and the training Amber was giving me was worth this, amid the extra pains of being a college student. I had always wanted to learn about the care and training of racehorses, and my dread was being fulfilled here at this famous stable, two time showing stable of the year award winner and also winner of the racing stable of the year award this year.

My light brown hair glimmered in the sunshine as I stepped out and, still whistling, started across to my quarters at the other side of the property. It was nice of Amber to give me the long unused apartment. She had worked alone for so long, and it was amazing that she managed so many horses on her own. I paused briefly outside my main shortcut through the huge showing barn, then decided against it as I saw the brilliant orange sunshine. Humming now, I headed along the side of the showing barn and reached the youngstock stables.

I was glad afterwards that I made this decision, the decision that changed my life.

A round pen came into view, and inside the round pen was a horse, a beautiful average-sized thoroughbred. His bay coat, splotched with mud and clearly unkempt, still glimmered like fire under the sun's rays. I stopped then, for the colt turned his head and locked his gaze on me. The gaze chilled me to the bone, for then he reared and screamed a cry to the heavens, thundering towards me. I thought he would leap the fence, and fear chilled me to the bone, but he stopped and stood near the fence, glaring.

Get away from him came a sharp command. Amber appeared, and in her hand she held a lead rope. You are aggravating him, and he must be kept away from the others. Do you understand? Terror made me obedient, and I nodded without really thinking. Amber approached the horse, and soon, despite the horse's attacks and resistance, had him tied in a tight lead to the railing. Then she walked away, and I thought about following her, but then a snort of anger and a great groan sounded from behind me.

I turned around, and saw the colt's muscles, hidden while stationary, heave under his coat as he struggled to pull free. I watched as the fence swayed, but stayed in place, but then the pawing started. The colt pawed the bottom rail off the round pen fence, and continued wrecking it before my eyes.

No I cried, and raced forward. With no thought at all I dodged the heaving horse's bared mouth and undid the lead rope and halter in one fluid motion. He broke away, kicking in my direction as he went. The kick connected, and a sharp pain exploded in my knee. I screamed, startled, and jumped back. The colt, however, seemed unaware of my pain, and his shining, angry gaze was fixed on the tree standing just out of his body's reach.

I took this moment of quiet to more observe him. His bay coat was dusty, and it looked like he had gone without grooming for a long time. The round pen had plops of poop around it, and a feed bucket was overturned in his water trough. He was a thoroughbred though, as his temper showed only too well. I longed to give the colt a good groom and some care, but he was unapproachable. Yet, I knew I had to try.

If the bay sensed my approach he did not show it. I approached him, approached the under-developed three year old racehorse, quiet as possible. When I reached the fence railing I whistled softly. His head snapped around, and he came charging towards me, stopping one foot short and puffing out angrily. Then the glorious animal reared, his legs striking the air, and then came down to gallop away again.

I was very surprised at the strength of his fury. It was clear he had spent many months alone, and had no trust for humans. I watched him as he began to pace, looking for no companion but feeling restless. I thought he was upset I didn't leave him alone and go away like Amber. All signs of his injury were gone, but the treatment he had endured was horrible. I could understand where Amber was coming from though, with such a huge stable to manage, but it wasn't fair to him.

Who are you anyway? I called softly. The colt stopped, his muscles stiff, as if debating his next move. Charge or not? I guess he decided to ignore me, resuming his restless pacing.

I knew I had to get on with the process of gaining his trust, so approached softly as possible. I stopped at the fence, and an aggravated snort along with a rear was the result. I could barely see his legs pawing the sky, as the moonlight was the only thing that lit the world.

I approached still more, climbing up on top of the fence and sitting there. Now that angered him. The colt wheeled around and charged, neck extended as if to bite. I steadied myself, chasing away the fear, and let him come, my eyes calmly locked onto his furious gaze. He stopped an inch away, his hot breaths being felt on my legs. He studied me cautiously. No one had ever stood so close to him for the past year, I thought, so it must be strange to see one besides Amber who didn't run away.

The bay tossed his head angrily and retreated at a walk, but he stopped three feet away to look at me, head cocked to the side with curiosity. He then bent his head to nudge the pen floor before turning around and no longer facing me.

I made another move then, sliding down quietly as possible from the rail. He froze, ear cocked, then ignored me. I crept along the edge towards his feed bucket and water trough, and set about clearing it out. I separated the hay from the water and drained the water until a little was left. I then looked for clean water, and saw a hose which I gladly sprayed into the trough.

Quiet hoofsteps sounded behind me, and I froze. The hoofsteps continued though - this colt was not afraid. He stopped right behind me, and I could feel his breath on my neck. Then he leaned down and tore off a bunch of hay, chewing it up and swallowing before starting on more. I was frozen in place, scared but exhilarated.

The beast could be tamed! The beast could be tamed! The beast could RACE!

I walked out of the paddock with weary hoofsteps, staying a foot away from me, following me every move. When I latched the gate the colt snorted as if to say good bye, then returned to his food. A grin lit up my youthful face, and I turned and walked away with visible swagger.

---

What's his name? I asked the next morning, motioning to the pen. Amber Black took five minutes to reply, she was so immersed in some charts. Passionate Class is his racing name, but you can call him Classy she said absentmindedly. Classy I thought as I walked away from her. Classy I thought all day. And that night, when I climbed over the rail and saw the three year old's tail, like he always would for everybody, I called Classy in a whispered tone, and his ears perked and he turned his head, as if to welcome me.

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