Post by S u N f r O s T ~ on Jan 2, 2014 18:43:44 GMT -5
SWEET INFERNO AND VALENCIA ANDREWS
Dissatisfaction oozed off of the black mare in droves. Lean muscles rippled as she strode forward with purpose in her strides. This was a horse who meant business. Ever since her fourth place finish in the Unicorn Horn Dirt Classic, Sweet Inferno had been a tough horse to deal with. She was demonic off the track and had even become to act badly when on the track - highly unusual for this black comet of a thoroughbred. Valencia hadn't minded the attitude - in fact, she thrived on it - but it was really unusual for Sweetie to be so...wired after a loss. She had the sneaking suspicion it had to do with losing to her main rivals from classic season. The Crooked Fire filly had never taken losing easily. But somehow, she only seemed to truly thrive at twelve furlongs. That was where she became unstoppable, rolling to the most impressive victories of her career. She was well and truly a marathoner - her lean build and long stride as well as endless amounts of stamina, perhaps something from grandsire Night Stalker, had really given her the twelve furlong edge.
Valencia had sought out something to test the filly and push her to her limits. She needed to be ready to tackle bigger races against tougher competition, even at races that weren't twelve furlongs. So she had sought out the empty sand track, vacated after the Dubai World Carnival, and she wanted to do a nice, long stamina workout over it. With Infini gone from the barn, Sweetie now did the longest workouts of any horse on the stock except maybe for Wish Upon A Star, her fellow marathoner. And Sweetie absolutely thrived off of work. Something in her black body called for it in order to perform. She was just so energetic, so built for distance, like it was part of her chemical makeup. Valencia didn't mind one bit. The mare had attitude and she packed loads of speed into her stamina-laden runs. That was all Valencia needed to have from a racehorse, that and the desire to never lose.
She let Sweetie out onto the sand track. Sweetie barely noticed the sand beneath her hooves, so intent was she on whatever it was she was brooding about. Perhaps she noticed the weight of the sand and interpreted as heavier dirt. As Valencia accelerated them to a trot, Sweetie extended her stride and found herself sliding a bit more than usual. She snapped back into focus then, now completely attentive to the workout, and snorted once before rapidly adjusting to the track. Valencia smirked. A new surface wouldn't keep her filly down. And now they could run forever if they so chose.