Murder Afire; Break The Silence

[Melissa]

Breeders' Cup Classic Workout for Murder Afire

are you brave enough to break the silence?

The sleek bay Thoroughbred colt bolted happily around his paddock with GS Poetic Justice watching on quietly at the other colt's antics. At three years old Murder Afire was fit and one very happy colt. Kicking up his heels he tossed his head toward Poe, muzzle pressing up close to the Spotted By A Star son as he came to an halt next to his paddock pal. Like always the GS Gallant Prince son was craving attention and with no people around to bother the 16 hand colt had turned to bugging his shyer fellow colt and playmate at times. Flicking forward one ear Scene craned his head around at the sound of an jingling lead rope. With a whicker of greeting the young colt pranced in the direction of the fence, eyes bright as he spotted me coming along the fence from where I had just been visiting with the broodmares. Closing Time was slowly but surely putting on weight from the foal she was due to foal soon and GS Infinitee was as well, same with Struck By War who was being kept separately from the other mares to reduce the chance of one of the mares loosing a foal especially Clover and Mags, who were both in foal to good stallions.

"Heya Scene, ready to cause a scene?" I teased, pulling at the bay colt's forelock with a grin at my own little joke. Spiritedbrumby had given Murder Afire an adorable barn name that just matched his looks and personality. With a deep whicker the bay colt nudged at my hand firmly. With a chuckle I climbed up the fence and once my feet landed on the ground on the other side I clipped the lead rope to his halter. With a soft tug at the lead I led the way toward the gate with Scene at my side, eyes curiously watching me the entire way. Pushing open the gate I closed it firmly behind Scene once he was clear of the fence. I'd had Cain get his butt moving and bossed the young boy into bringing Scene's equipment down to the paddock so it was all ready for me to get the big bay three year old tacked. Zipping through the process as fastly as I could due to Scene's urgent and repeated attempts to get attention I mounted up and steered the colt toward the track.

For both good and bad reasons he would be WB's sole entry in the Classic and the one they had the highest hopes for, well most of the staff backed the handsome son of Prince whereas I favored FS Waylay Attack slightly above the burly bay Thoroughbred. Since he was our only entry I could spend more time into putting his name out there but on the downside of being our only Classic entry he had no one to be worked with except his old man and if everyone knew better than to ask for the coveted place of riding GS Gallant Prince. It was a double edged sword but with Scene's success already and hopefully my good riding talents he could pull off a top three or top four finish. I was riding on some big wishes though with Scene meeting up with some of the finest racers ever.

Halting Murder Afire at the gap to the serene racetrack I sighed, glancing quickly down at the fit thoroughbred colt beneath me. "You ready for this Scene?" I asked him, breaking the stillness of the early morning. Flicking back one ear Scene rolled an eye to eye me with all the spark of a horse ready to run his heart out. "Let's go rock then big man." I said with a steely determination in my words. Scene tossed his head and whinned out, tail swishing as he tugged at the bit. He came alive with high energy as he picked up a strong trot along the outside rail.

It was about 6 in the morning and reporters were scattered about the track rail, getting in their last digs on the Breeders' Cup field horses. A hush fell over the largest crowd of them as Murder Afire trotted briskly past and several cameras flashed capturing the bay colt as he blew past. I ignored them, they would get their answers soon but I'd be damned if I said a word, Scene's workout would give them the answers. "What can you tell us about Murder Afire's chances against Touchstone and Contessa or even GS Remington if he makes an appearance at the Classic?" One bold reporter called out. I sighed and rolled my eyes, shooting the questioning reporter an deadly look, "You'll get your answer on Saturday." was my terse reply to his question and then I kicked Scene into a canter. Lowering his head a bit, the big colt picked up the pace, tail waving in the breeze the speed his faster pace created.

"That's a boy, lets show 'em." I murmured hand tightening slightly on my left rein as I angled him towards the inside rail. With a few excited huffed breaths Scene came anxiously to an halt, ears flicking back waiting. Pressing my weight forward I felt the bunch of muscles just before that quick flash of powerful and speed. Settling easily into Scene's galloping strides I maintained a certain amount of control over the galloping bay as he flew along beside the inside rail.

His mane was flying back and stinging my cheeks but I didn't care. This was the true meaning of living. Taking your chances for what they were and not looking back and wishing you could change them. Friends came and went but the ones who were up front with you but didn't degrade you or put you down were the ones you could keep around. They didn't call you stupid and an hypocrite nor did they say you didn't have an image for yourself. In short they accepted you for who you are and didn't make you out to be a total pregnant dog when in fact they were the pregnant doges. The sharp intakes of breath that Murder Afire took sounded in my ears as he raced forward, his mind completely on business, completely the opposite of mine.

As he flashed around the start of the turn I let him all out and he ate up the extra rein, driving forward with everything he had. Letting all my worries fly out behind us on the breeze I let my heart run with the colt, despite the fact that I was perched precariously on his back I had no worries of falling. Oh yeah I was very confident on the back of a galloping horse, it came from long time experience. I didn't need an watch to know that Murder Afire was covering the distance and doing it with no problems. Muscles bunched and then stretched out, like an elastic band as he poured out the speed, pushing toward the finish line. With one final driving kick Murder Afire charged past the wire and I stood back in my stirrups slowly bringing the bay colt down to a halt. His nostrils were flared as he took in huge amounts of air while being slowed down and he snorted one eye rolling in the direction of the press. "Easy, steady slow boy." I mumbled softly, taking up a little more control with each stride until Scene's pace had come down to a gentle walk.