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Post by .*.Brandy.*. on Jan 25, 2009 12:00:50 GMT -5
 [ x ]joshua stevenson. ~*~
A light, almost enthusiastically eager snort emitted from the blood bay filly's nostrils, I was almost surprised. At first riding Nista when she arrived at CCI, I expected her to not actually care about the finesse of racing and just run hell-for-leather. Well I was extremely wrong. Nista listened on the track, unlike some of her racing peers and really bared down once she broke from the gates (almost always cleanly too... I don't know how she does that. Sometimes, I doze off a little and all of a sudden we've got clear sailing ahead and we're broken from the gates!). I focused back on the filly now. She pranced sideways, just as she always did. I was used to it by now. Auds pricked, she noticed the gate coming up. She had never given it a problem, although I expected that if she didn't want to go in, she wouldn't. She walked in, delicately placing her four hooves inside the little box. My eyes up, I focused on the clear path ahead of us. It was 3:30 am, no one was here yet. I suppose people will show up soon so I decided to only go a mile today. Of course, tomorrow morning, I'd be out here by 2 am. My trainer, Roger, is literally insane and doesn't think I need sleep to function! Just as I had explained to you before, my mind wandered and in a split second, Nista had broken from the gates cleanly. I smiled in spite of myself, crouching long and low on her neck. She radiated a warm, horsey scent. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about. Mmm. I love that smell. But anyway, we rounded the first turn, my light touch with her bit balancing her around the turn. Nista took turns well, not really worrying and balancing herself as best as she could. Whatever she couldn't quite do, a little pressure on the left or right rein would fix. We were now thundering down the backstretch, her lengthening stride eating the ground. Of course, Nista didn't have a gigantic reach like some of the colts I've seen on the track. She was a filly and a delicate one at that so she had to do many more gallop strides than some of her peers. She didn't mind though, I realized. She used the extra strides to use the ground to propel her forward. A light snort emitted from her nostrils now, we closed the back stretch, my crouch going lower on her neck. The steadily increasing rhythm of Nista's gallop could put me to sleep, I swear. She was not a sweet horse in the least stretch but she knew when to get to work and she picked up on new things so quickly. She learned strategies before I did but once she gets inton one of her hyper moods, forget it. But today she was right there with me. So focused and ready for the task ahead. She knew this was when to pour on the speed. Around the turn, she used her incredible racing horse traction shoes to push off the ground harder than usual. She rounded the last turn, the finishing pole in sight. Without my urging, she ploughed forward, her weight completely throwing herself forward. I carefully pulled her back onto her haunches and urged her onwards with just a flick of the crop for her to see. She shot forward now, her aerodynamic delicate bodytype allowing her the full amount of speed with quick agility. We flew past the final pole or at least we must have, I didn't even see it. I carefully slowed her down to a canter, a jog and then a walk, my eyes raised as I loosened her reins to let her cool down a little before I'd do a little more with her. Nista droppped her head relaxing but she wasn't in the least bit tired. I felt her muscles itching for more work but she wasn't her overly hyper self. She had energy though. And promise. I was so lucky.
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Post by .*.Brandy.*. on Aug 24, 2009 8:00:10 GMT -5
 [ x ]joshua stevenson. ~*~
The bay filly was in a really pissy mood today as she sidestepped towards the rail of the track, just to annoy me. Her auds flickered back to me, waiting for a response to her misbehavior and I merely sat lightly in the saddle, my reins in careful contact with her mouth. As we got closer to the rail, I felt her body shift and auds flicker forward. She snorted now, irritated that I hadn't gotten upset with her. She threw a flying buck and tried to grab the bit from my hands but I was ready for her. I half-halted with the reins and the filly came to a stop and a frame halfway through a buck. I rolled my eyes as I looked back at Roger. Really, I was used to all of this crap. After riding her for six months, nothing could shock me anymore and when I got on my other green charges at CCI, I was extremely relaxed because I knew that those horses wouldn't try to kill me. Roger pressed his lips together as he looked Nista critically. I knew what was going through his head because he'd voiced it many times. "I would sell Nista but she is doing so well on the track. I can only hope that she'll get nicer." But that was doubtful. Looking attentively to my trainer, Roger spoke up now, shaking off his bad thoughts.
Just do one lap around the track. She's got enough energy today to do seventy but the Spring Cup is around the corner and you don't want her to be out of control then.
I nodded seriously. The field was difficult, three fillies and a colt. The colt was a grandson of a CCI broodmare and an excellent runner. Honestly, the other two fillies were competition enough without Jazzman on top of it. One was the daughter of a GHF famous mare, Bank on Silver and the other was a filly CCI had been watching since she was a weanling, Screaming Mimi. Mims was the one that I was most concerned about because Roger warned me about her fierce nature, similar to Nista's. There would either be a clash in the race between the two or a dominant filly. For Nista's sake, I hope it would be her because if Mims beat her, Nista would no doubt go for a kill. It was scary to think about but I didn't doubt that Nista would kill the other dominant mare. Roger nodded me off and I moved Nista in a forward moving trot, posting lightly. I felt her grind the bit between her teeth, lowering her head. I pulled her head up quickly before she had an opportunity to buck. Oh god, I had a lot of work to do today.
I asked for a smooth gallop just before we hit the starting line and Nista threw her head wildly as we started. I shook my head in disbelief as I lowered myself further into her mane. Taking the opportunity, Nista shot forward with a blazing speed. I pulled back lightly on my breaks, cooing words to try and make her slow down. She flicked an ear back and ultimately decided to listen to me. That was why Nista and I clicked. I knew her well and she knew that for the most part, I was the best she could get. Lily had ridden her before and Nista pushed her around like non-other. And Dylan wasn't even an option. He had fallen that one day we had traded Nista and Patrick. Patrick was scared of everything but he was just like my green charges back at the barn. I was unphased and next thing I knew, Dylan was on the ground and Nista was galloping the track all by herself. Nista's gallop was unchanged as we went around the corner because she easily kept her pace on the turn. She lowered her head slightly more into my hands, not feeling the least bit tired.
We blazed down the back-stretch, her eyes focused ahead on the turn just before the end of the run. Her toned muscles showed underneath her glossy coat as I sat, just taking stock of what we needed to work on. Nista was aware that I wasn't thinking of her and almost threw a buck and I quickly focused back on, getting her to round the corner, gaining speed and power with every stride. Her strong pillars pushed off the ground as she flicked her black tail at the work she had to do to get the speed and power that she needed. But once the track was straight again, she flew forward with all the extra power she had gained. I kneaded my hands down her mane and she took the extra rein with care and passion. Auds pinned against her skull as she always did when she was intensely focused, she steadily gained ground and mouthed the bit lightly. We blazed past the finish line and I sat up slowly, getting her to slow to a medium gallop, then a hand gallop, a canter, a fast trot, a slow trot and finally a quick walk. It took long enough. I turned her to face Roger and he raised up two thumbs. I patted the filly's neck now and she snorted nonchalantly. I grinned lightly. That was why I loved riding her. She just loved to run and was actually more intelligent than any other of the nice horses in the barn.
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