Hail Of Bullets

[Ripley]

Hail of Bullets
featuring: Firestorm

It wasn't every day that you said goodbye to a juvenile winner of two races and said hello to an unraced maiden. That was life at Witch Creek Stable and Ripley's fine pursuit of a specific type of horse. She'd found her type and while Laura was happy to welcome a new horse, she was a bit sad to see Lady Timeah go off in Intrepid Racing's silks. Her irritation at the lost had dissipated slightly in the face of the new challenge at hand. She was given only her second ever colt to ride. Optimus Unstoppable had been her first challenge to overcome and now that he had his fight back, Ripley had found her another challenge. This one was going to be without a doubt even more of a challenge.

Laura took a deep breath as Kendall led the colt in question from his stall. At 16.2 hands, Firestorm equaled Uno Momento in height. Yet, this one seemed to carry himself taller with more pride and significantly more attitude. His eyes seemed to ask, "Who do you think you're looking at?" It was as though he saw right through you to the core of your soul. It made you wonder if you even should like what he saw. His dark body glistened in the early morning fog. Ripley was out to keep this one a secret. So thick was the fog that very few Witch Creek horses would be worked until at seven o'clock when most of it moved off. But Firestorm was different. Ripley didn't know what she had in this colt. He came with an unproven sire and a somewhat proven dam.

If you considered the dam of a Canadian Triple Crown winner unproven that is. Anodyne had been Sun Chaser's first foal and Firestorm her second colt. Jazzasoleil was proving to be courageous on the track, but had not quite reached Anodyne's talent level yet.

Ripley was certain that Firestorm could be another Anodyne type. He was bred to be a miler on both surfaces and he filled a significant hole in the Y13 colt group. He was only the third colt in the juvenile roster, joining the equally talented Uno Momento and Notorious. It was possible that Firestorm could outrun them both from the get-go.

Malcolm and Ripley had watched in shock as the colt had demolished the track at home, cranking off impressive gallop times all under wraps. He'd blown them out of the water with his incredible gate work, getting off impressively and hitting the wire in a sterling :22 2/5 for two furlongs. To say the horse had speed was an under statement. To say he was ultra talented didn't even begin to cover him.

The colt snorted when Laura approached him, eyes rolling white. Laura snickered, "So that's what you think of me, huh?" She planted her hands on her hips, cocked a brow at Kendall. "What does he think of you?"

She giggled in her Kendall way, all innocent and perfect. "Oh he doesn't mind me. He hasn't quite decided though. Sometimes he ignores me, sometimes he likes me. You know how fickle these boys can be." Laura grinned, accepted the leather reins. Storm danced to the end, ears pricking at the sound of a truck door slamming. His skin twitched as though flies were landing on him every two seconds. He let loose a whinny, his whole body cavity shaking with the effort. "Hey, sir! That's quite enough."

Firestorm skittered back, ears pinning and tail flipping arrogantly over his well-rounded butt. The girls watched the horse flutter around nervously. He wouldn't come near them. He had too much respect for them, even though together they barely weighed 200 lbs. He didn't mess with the humans and they let him be his oddball self. Unnerved by their stares, the colt shifted his stance and looked down the hall. He was met with pinned ears on Sun King's behalf, but he stared through the chestnut horse unperturbed. Other horses didn't both Firestorm. Firestorm bothered other horses.

Brooks watched Firestorm with keen eyes. The muscular colt seemed to have an edge to him that the other juveniles did not. He radiated confidence despite his uneasy skittering. His thick neck sloped down into bulky shoulders and a deep chest. He looked like a miler, reminded Brooks a lot of Mr. Hat And Clogs in his type. The colt dipped his head, wriggled the reins into his mouth and nibbled. He was a big baby this Kyoujin colt. A flippant horse with a playful brain. Yet, under all that skittishness, playfulness and arrogance was a colt that could run the pants off anything Brooks had ever seen. 

"All right DeComte, hop on. Ripley's placing entries for Week Four and it's time to get this one to work."

Kendall boosted Laura into the saddle, held onto Firestorm as he danced beneath the added weight. He tossed his head excitedly, hooves churning up the dust beneath his powerful frame. Brooks and Kendall tag teamed the colt, each taking a hold of the rein as the colt pressed toward the track.

Several other grooms from other stables peeked at the colt as he motored past. He was a powerhouse this one, striking a figure in the fog. Few others had moseyed out into the oppressive climate and clockers couldn't catch those who did. It was what Ripley was banking on, but Brooks wondered if they'd be able to time him much themselves. It was more than likely they would have to rely on Laura's internal time clock.

Ripley nodded at them from her position at the gap, eyes sweeping over the muscular individual. He sure was a handsome horse. "Good job with timing, guys." Brooks and Kendall smiled, released the lead ropes and watched the colt muscle his way onto the quiet track. 

Alone Laura was smacked with the colt's power. He was the only horse that could stun her this way. Instead of being nervous, now Firestorm was confident. He strode over the course with concentrated force, each hoof pointedly placed, ears focused on his job. Laura took a breath, let the colt move into a strong gallop. Her gloved hands shrieked at the force it took to hold Storm back. Justin had originally been the one meant for Storm until Storm had launched the kid into a pair of bushes.

Firestorm loped easily over the dirt, mouthing the bit as though he were considering taking off. Laura relaxed into the saddle, kept a stern hold over the colt. She'd been given instructions prior to her arrival via text message. Five furlongs, make it 1:01. Got it. She could do that in her sleep. She let the reins out a notch and found Firestorm more than ready.

The pair cruised to the first furlong pole, Firestorm's strides becoming more confident. He ran straight as an arrow through the backstretch, always pulling on the reins and keeping Laura on her toes. He cruised through the fog, showing off a maturity that she hadn't expected out of him. He could have cared less that he could barely see four feet in front of him. He ran bravely through the white wall, let loose a call that did not even echo. Laura smiled, cranked a little more on Storm's reins. Gosh he was a mighty horse.

Brooks and Ripley squinted through the fog, thrilling when they caught glimpses of Storm through the fog. It was breaking up as he hit the turn. Ripley and Brooks had radioed Justin on the other side of the track, caught the horse going in twelves for the first two furlongs. Ripley saw the change when Laura gave the colt the cue to run. He seemed to drop to the ground, ears still pricked. He charged low over the ground, coasting with about as much effort as it took for Ripley to snap her fingers.

Brooks' eyes were glued to his watch as Firestorm bulled through the final furlong and hit the wire well under wraps. He knew Laura was containing the colt as best she could, but the time had been sensational. :59 3/5 was flying for a juvenile. Brooks didn't know if he wanted to show Ripley the time or not. He heard a scuffle of feet and winced. He didn't have to.

A clocker raced over, his blue eyes sparkling. "Marsh did you see the time that that colt just ripped off?"

Ripley glanced at Brooks, rolled her shoulders. "Nope, but you'll tell me."

"59 and 2/5! When's that sucker running?"

Brooks cocked a brow. Ripley shrugged. "Some time."

The trio looked up as Laura arrived aboard the colt. Firestorm took one big breath, let out a hearty sigh and wasn't even breathing hard. The clocker tapped his pad against his wrist as Ripley escorted the colt back and grinned like a tom cat. "Oh yeah. I'll be keeping a look out. What's his name?"

Brooks shrugged, "Damned if I know."