Post by Melissa on Jan 4, 2008 20:42:31 GMT -5
burn baby burn
cause you can't touch this
The chestnut colt kicked out with his back hooves nearly knocking Cain over in his excitement to get to the track. "Easy Jay, easy." I crooned softly to the young Oddside son, while Cain tugged on the lead of the the 2 1/2 colt, earning himself a disdainful look from the half-brother to Geronimo. His hooves touched the track surface and that was all it took for the colt to become even more pushy, his head bobbing up high and . "Mkay, let him go." I said to Cain who hurriedly unclipped the lead that was attached to Jay's bridle and stepped away just as Jay broke forward into a rocky canter. Sawing lightly on the reins of the chestnut as I struggled to stay aboard the young colt I let him continue with his canter.
His strides came swiftly as he cantered easily along over the soft surface. After about a half-mile of cantering and trotting, I rubbed one hand over Jay's shoulder feeling that he was enough for a gallop now. Shortening the reins I gave a soft nudge in the colt's sides and he pulled forward, head stretched out in front of him and legs a copper blur beneath him as he galloped at a controlled pace down the track. His eye hard and hooves hammering out a pattern over the otherwise empty track FS Mockingbird streaked around the far turn, the wind burning my cheeks but I pressed closer to the chestnut's gleaming neck and let him open a little bit. Opening up to a whole new gear Jay blazed forward, legs of steel pouring on the speed while his muscles worked.
He had been trained rather light over the winter months but now he was ready to hit the track again and make a splash on the racing scene. Listening to the colt's rhythmical breaths I let my mind concentrate entirely on the surging Thoroughbred colt beneath me. Loosening my grip on the reins a bit more I let Jay sprint towards the wire. Flying past the finish wire I stood back in my stirrups slowing the young and slightly still immature chestnut Fly High Silver son down to a gentle canter for a few meters and then a brisk trot so his muscles wouldn't get cold or hard too soon.
cause you can't touch this
The chestnut colt kicked out with his back hooves nearly knocking Cain over in his excitement to get to the track. "Easy Jay, easy." I crooned softly to the young Oddside son, while Cain tugged on the lead of the the 2 1/2 colt, earning himself a disdainful look from the half-brother to Geronimo. His hooves touched the track surface and that was all it took for the colt to become even more pushy, his head bobbing up high and . "Mkay, let him go." I said to Cain who hurriedly unclipped the lead that was attached to Jay's bridle and stepped away just as Jay broke forward into a rocky canter. Sawing lightly on the reins of the chestnut as I struggled to stay aboard the young colt I let him continue with his canter.
His strides came swiftly as he cantered easily along over the soft surface. After about a half-mile of cantering and trotting, I rubbed one hand over Jay's shoulder feeling that he was enough for a gallop now. Shortening the reins I gave a soft nudge in the colt's sides and he pulled forward, head stretched out in front of him and legs a copper blur beneath him as he galloped at a controlled pace down the track. His eye hard and hooves hammering out a pattern over the otherwise empty track FS Mockingbird streaked around the far turn, the wind burning my cheeks but I pressed closer to the chestnut's gleaming neck and let him open a little bit. Opening up to a whole new gear Jay blazed forward, legs of steel pouring on the speed while his muscles worked.
He had been trained rather light over the winter months but now he was ready to hit the track again and make a splash on the racing scene. Listening to the colt's rhythmical breaths I let my mind concentrate entirely on the surging Thoroughbred colt beneath me. Loosening my grip on the reins a bit more I let Jay sprint towards the wire. Flying past the finish wire I stood back in my stirrups slowing the young and slightly still immature chestnut Fly High Silver son down to a gentle canter for a few meters and then a brisk trot so his muscles wouldn't get cold or hard too soon.
