From The Gallows

[Kenren]

Aphrodite's Chant & Clarimonde Tusaint for the Gallop to the Gallows Stakes

Cole couldn't say he wasn't disappointed by Aphrodite's Chant's finish in the Just A Trot, but he also did not believe that it was her best performance. She hadn't truly fired, and others of the field had some of the best runs of the year - she was capable of beating every one of them when she was in top form. Clarimonde had been outwardly furious after the race, and that he showed the anger was much more telling than the anger itself. He hadn't spoken to anyone as he stormed off, leaving the sweating filly with Cole and Minske. Cole's own anger had flared then - he wasn't a sentimental sort, but he highly disagreed with leaving a horse post-race without a single bit of praise and tension easily transferred from rider to horse. The filly had been upset, though Minske easily got her settled and cooled out. Cole had gone to find Clarimonde, but the jockey had made himself scarce. It wasn't until later, when he went to do a nightly check of the horses at the track, that he finally found him - or, rather, heard him. He quietly waited around the corner of the stall and listened to Clarimonde's voice, soothing and low and wordless from Cole's distance. Cole's own anger had abated as the minutes ticked by. When Clarimonde finally emerged from the stall, his face had gone just a little paler than usual when he spotted Cole only a few feet away. However, before Cole had been able to say anything, words had come from the boy in a rush. "I'm sorry for how I acted. I didn't... I was angry, but I shouldn't have treated her like that. I know that, so..." It was more words than Cole had ever heard out of Clari at once, and far more emotion was coming across than the boy would have liked. "So please don't take me off of her." There was humiliated red spots on Clari's cheeks that Cole could see even in the poor lighting, though he didn't know if they were over the request or his actions. It didn't really matter, he supposed - while he had thought for a moment in his own anger about removing the jockey, he knew it would likely be a mistake. However, after a moment of silence, Cole responded. "You'll continue to ride her, and your other mounts, as long as this doesn't happen again. You're young, but that's no excuse for taking it out on the horse when things go wrong." His voice was stern, but not cold. To end the mutually awkward conversation, Cole clapped a hand to Clari's shoulder before walking by him. "Go get some rest."

Now, as they prepared Chance for a run in the Gallop to the Gallows against an equally strong field, he was seeing a definite change in the jockey. He no longer rode with a chip on his shoulder, angry over the losses that led to this one. He was taking a genuine interest in the horse for the sake of bringing out her best, and there was a new... well, softness was the wrong word. But he was less rigid and cold and solely focused on perfection. He was finally, finally, paying attention to what he really needed to be focused on. And Chance was absolutely blooming under the attention. The gorgeous grey had more fire in her when she wasn't being so tightly controlled, and while she was more of a handful for Clari during gallops, it was definitely a positive sign. Now, in her final work before the second race of the Youth Challenge, Cole was already predicting one of her fastest works.

Clarimonde rode the filly past, and the boy gave him a nod before urging the filly onto the dirt. While he was a little more relaxed, he still wasn't the talkative sort. He took the prancing filly into a trot, her neck bowed and chest pushed forward in eagerness. In reality, this leg was probably the filly's best shot at this major two-year-old series. While she would likely grow into an 11-furlong distance, against such a strong field as the Youth Challenge was likely to draw, she was likely run out of steam before the end. At ten furlongs, though, she was a live threat and confidently strong. Clarimonde put the filly through her warm-up, then urged her into a gallop. Except, urge was not the right word. He allowed her to crank up the speed as she desired, tempering her only enough to keep her going through the five furlongs. She settled easily enough now that she was going, ears pressed forward and strides long and cruising. The speed she picked was faster than Clarimonde normally allowed her, but she was doing it so easily that he didn't feel the need to ease her. When they rounded the turn Clari didn't even shake her up - he simply eased his pressure on the reins and she took off of her own volition, digging into the dirt and flying toward the wire. Clarimonde let her go, only easing her back once they'd gone by their mark - they had a short gallop-out afterward, and when he pulled the grey up there was a small smile on his face.

Cole watched on with his own matching smile. As expected, it was the fastest work to date for the grey, and by quite a margin - and she'd done it without the least bit of urging. Her future was hard to quantify, but it was obvious she had a lot more to give than her Just A Trot finish suggested.