who's the boss

[Ripley Marsh]

Who's The Boss
featuring: Saintly Touch, Supernatural & Sun King

Ripley was bent over her desk, going over the racing books with keen eyes. Brooks didn't bother knocking, just watched her for a moment. She had a neat little furrow between her brows. Something was clearly disturbing her. She wasn't one to scowl over the books, more like excited. The last couple weeks had been frustration for the auburn haired woman. There had been awesome success, but planning for a bunch of unknowns always seemed to put an itch between her shoulder blades. "Hey Rips."

Her shoulders stiffened briefly at his words, but she didn't look up. "I'm having trouble finding a race for King. He's too good now. I've never had a three year old be so good that he can't fit into normal three year old races. And I'm definitely not sending him against Ventura, Sophie's Voice and Allouette Divine." Brooks leaned against the door, blue eyes growing puzzled. "I guess we train him until he can run." She looked up then, "That's all we can do until the Grade Two races start dipping into his distance territory. Almost had a race for him, but nope. It's at 11. And as good as he is at ten, I think eleven is just beyond his scope."

Brooks nodded in agreement, "You coming out to give directions. Who you sticking on Siri?"

Ripley smirked, "Laura. She's already over there prepping her. I've got eyes everywhere Brooks. I'll be out. Directions for Reese and you... I want five furlongs ending at the wire. Gallop out a little, but they get pulled up. Siri's going seven so she'll start after you two. Not sure if she'll catch up or not."

Reese patted Saint's neck, taking one last glance over the handsome colt. The Night Stalker colt had definitely grown more over the last four weeks since the Breeders' Cup Juvenile. His chest was thicker, his body tougher. He was the picture of his sire with long, scopey legs. He'd grown to 16.2 hands and simply looked as good as ever. He wasn't a precocious son of a gun, but he sure looked ready to dole out damage as a three year old. His first planned start would come in the Unicorn Horn Dirt against the same cast as he had faced in the Juvenile. Everyone was going to be pitting their long distance runners against each other from the start. And everyone was going to be going after her champion. He hadn't received the two year old colt award, Sun King had, but he was Reese's champion.

Sun King stared belligerently at Saint, eyes fierce and cunning. Brooks broke the intense stare with a pat of his hand on the colt's neck. Native Flame had sired a bully in this one. He was quick and physical. He had grown more to be a staggering 16.3 hands. A picture of his sire with the smart head of his dam. He'd been the most dominant victor on the Breeders' Cup card and coming into Year Fifteen, it appeared as though few could hold a candle to him. Brooks would approach every race with caution. Horses like Chatoyant, the Juvenile Usurper, and Lilith Wind, the Juvenile Female Usurper, would be snapping for a chance at King's crown. He would not underestimate them and King would have to be all about his business if he was going to maintain his dominance.

Laura moved swiftly in the quiet older horse barn, tightening Siri's girth and adjusting her bridle. The flea bitten gray mare stood between the cross-ties, ears pricked and listening to the neighs of the broodmares. Her muscles were tense with the excitement. She'd always been a foolish type filly who had luckily calmed down with age. Laura adored the pretty mare for her unique temperament and her athleticism. Siri was joining an intriguing line up of mares in the Belle Victoire Derby. Battle Wings and Restricted Access had already taken it to each other in the Apple Blossom Handicap. Battle Wings had taken that round. Siri would be joining the fight in her Year Fifteen debut. She was one of the popular dirt fillies looking for vengeance after a loss to Italian Ice in the Breeders' Cup Distaff.

After clicking her helmet strap together, Laura led Supernatural from the barn and smiled at the gathered riders and horses. "Haven't been waiting long have you?"

Brooks and Reese exchanged glances, followed by Reese sticking her tongue out at Laura. Laura climbed into Siri's saddle, patting the mare's neck when she didn't budge an inch. She'd come a long way since her flighty two year old season. Her newly found focus was much appreciated around the barn. The riders headed down to the track, Sun King belligerently in the lead. Somehow Ripley had scooted by Brooks and was already waiting for them at the rail. She was watching Malcolm and Kendall who were leading Game Over and Breaking Point. The two young horses looked in great health, coats shimmering and Breaking Point's hide even slightly dappled out. The yearlings would crawl beneath her radar, but come November Ripley would be paying close attention to them.

She smiled at Laura who called a cheerful hello from Siri's back. The light colored mare looked sensational herself, muscles bunching beneath a well-tended coat. "Since you missed out on my meeting with Brooks. I'm going to have Sun King and Saint break off first and go five furlongs in 1:01. Not enough to blitz them. I'd like Siri to go through seven and shade 1:22-1:23. Hit the six in 1:11. She's got a challenge first time out, but her gallops have kept her focused and her breeze last week was sterling."

"Sounds good to me," Laura quipped. She turned Siri onto the track, kept her eye on Sun King. The brawny unmarked chestnut had one eye settled on Siri. The lean mare pinned her ears at the colt, snapping her jaws when he passed too close for comfort. Brooks straightened the Native Flame son out and sent him into a controlled canter. King already had one eye on the ladies. He snorted violently, but rushed up into a faster hand gallop when Saintly Touch breezed by on the outside. The dark Night Stalker colt had become public enemy #1. It was time to terminate him.

Reese kept her hands soft on the reins as Saint got the nod over Sun King for the gallop up to the backstretch. He always seemed to thrive on stealing Sun King's happiness. The one-eyed colt stole away King's happiness every time he was worked with the chestnut colt. He was a thief and he relished his job. Misery loved company. Sun King would never be the hero though, not with his reputation of bullying countless innocent horses. The chestnut horse bumped Saint as they rounded into the backstretch, his eyes blazing with irritation. Saint rolled to the three path as if he had meant to do that all along. Brooks straightened his mount up, shaking his head at the small smirk that made itself at home on Reese's face. She enjoyed the cat and mouse game between the two colts.

Ripley grumbled in frustration as the colt's disappeared behind the rounded hill in the infield of the track. Rumor had it that hill was the source of the haunting along the creek. Supposedly some black magic had been performed on the makeshift altar causing old spirits to interact with the living world. Whatever had caused the haunting had settled down, but Ripley's superstitious side would not allow her to get rid of the grassy knoll. The colts reappeared out the other side, but Ripley's attention had swung, ironically, to Supernatural.

The gray mare had swung into her second furlong, her legs flying beneath her. The Dylan Himself horse glided over the dirt track with a profound fierceness. Her ears were pinned to her neck, tail streaming out behind her. She looked savage in this full out pursuit of Saintly Touch and Sun King. She streaked through the third furlong, swallowing the ground between herself and the colts with zero encouragement from Laura. The young woman was nearly hidden by the flying white man, so apart of the mare was she. Ripley hummed as the horse shot behind the hill and returned her gaze to Saint and King.

The colts flew neck and neck toward the turn, their tails mingling as the wind whipped. Saint and King had grown into fierce rivals over the course of last year. It appeared that the rivalry was coming to a head in this workout. They were each other's worst enemies, but they both thrived on these gut twisting, heart pounding workouts. Saint fell back on the turn as King came off of the rail. It was not so much a herding tactic as a result of the momentum the pair had. Ripley's gaze was drawn back as Siri whipped through the turn, cornering brilliantly as she closed the distance. Ripley recognized the moment when Reese and Brooks realized they had company for both riders instantly went to urging the colts on with chirps and pumping hands.

Laura was cackling inwardly as Supernatural drew within a length of the younger two. The boys were always so distracted by one another that they could be facing their supreme enemy and not take notice. Siri rolled into the slot on the rail as the homestretch spread out before them like a brown carpet. King was quick to go with her, taking her for the immediate threat to his authority. Reese gave little shake to Saintly Touch, found his grinding response as Siri and King drew a length away. He revved up down the middle of the track, suspended momentarily in the air before he truly kicked into gear. Saint rumbled back to run side by side with King, locking the chestnut into an unusual position for him. King did not bow down as Reese might have suspected, rather he proved his nature by fighting between them.

Laura was still as a statue as Siri coasted through the wire, going on by herself as Brooks and Reese tightened up on their mounts. The flea bitten gray flew through her final furlong, receiving only a light tap to keep her focused. She hit the seven furlongs in 1:22 2/5, racehorse time, and continued into her gallop out with devastating ease. Ripley was practically grinning from ear to ear as the trio pulled up. They weren't Mastermind or Bella Luna, but they sure helped ease the ache.





Challenge words: Thief & Altar