>> echoing the world

"Philip Garnier"
"Moody Bradley"

Pip looked nervous, sitting astride the lanky black colt. Despite his experience on the track, I knew it must be nerve racking for him to be riding for a new stable. He didn't want to mess up and be fired, or worse, be responsible for an injury and held liable. I nudged my mount closer to his and gave him an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. Bucc's as good a colt as any. He won't give you any trouble." I told him as I urged my charge into a brisk pace. He rolled his eyes and nudged the big black into a trot, the Shiver Me Timbers son easily overtaking my smaller colt. The other three year old glared heatedly ahead, his movements a bit too tense from his pent up anger at being forced to work alongside us. "I'm not worried about Bucc. I know how to ride. What I'm shady about is him." he retorted and jerked his head in my direction. I pouted, pretending to be offended as I bowed over my colt's neck and wrapped my arms around him. "Annie, I don't think Pippy likes you." I told the colt in a sing-song voice and grinned inwardly as the man's eye twitched. "I already tolerate 'Pip', but you are NOT calling me 'Pippy'." he grumbled. I winked at the man before regaining my seat and tightening my hold on Anarchi's reins. The colt moved fluidly over the dirt, as if the surface was as smooth as glass. He always managed to put whoever he was worked with to shame in terms of appearance. Something about the predator-esque colt just caught the crowd's eye, and if that didn't, his temper surely did. Unlike most Thoroughbreds, he was tranquil, detached even, and almost nothing could rouse him enough to get him fired up. Unless, of course, that something happened to be named Impressario.
It was incredible, just how much he hated that colt. I couldn't even remember what had started their little feud, but it had decayed from there, festering like a sore until they could barely stand the sight of the other. The Stride of Perfection colt was Anarchi's racing drive, truly, any horse he had a grudge against motivated him enough to actually try, but Impressario was his biggest rival. Most people would have expected Anarchi to be out for blood, a true killer, if his lines were anything to go by, but he had proved them wrong by being calculating and silent. The cold aura he gave off served as an efficient repellent when it came to keeping away nosy people and hot-headed equines, but the small few that had bonded with the colt knew he had an aggressive side. However, no one was that keen on drawing it out, content to let the colt suppress his own hereditary urges and keep him manageable. "Aw, lighten up, Pip. We're just going for a mock today, then you can go back to your drawings." I countered and sat back up in the saddle, enjoying the free-flowing movement of the colt's trot. Buccaneer was still wary, eyeing the placid colt beside him with rife suspicion before snorting in disgust and tugging at the bit. He seemed to be in a hurry, whether it was that he wanted to run, or just get the work over with and get the hell away from Anarchi, I didn't know. "But why Bucc? He's a sprinter, and Anarchi is more of a stayer. Why not work him with Addie or Mims? Even Zamiel might have been a better partner." the French man shortened the reins as he said this, the tightness forcing Bucc to raise his legs higher and work harder against the bit. "Well, it's kind of a selfish reason, but basically, Bucc is black and looks a lot like Impressario," I paused, my lips quirking into a small smirk when Anarchi's ears flattened back at the mention of his rival's name. "So I'm hoping he'll pretend it's the other colt and be a bit more motivated in his work." Pip rolled his eyes again but didn't bother arguing with me; he'd only been here a week, and he already knew that my logic and normal logic were two completely different things.
I gestured up ahead at the turns before turning back to my partner, still smirking slightly. "We're going to canter now. Boot him into a gallop halfway through the turn and let him go for as fast as he wants for two. Take him back in at the end of the stretch and cool him off. And for Christ's sake, if Anarchi starts to pass you, you boot him until your legs fall off. Got it?" This work would be simple, just to get Anarchi stretched and ready for the Climax Cup and his future entries. Bucc was going to win the little match race, I'd make sure of it, and it'd bolster the tall colt's confidence greatly. The two colts shifted into a canter at nearly the same moment, their strides contrasting greatly. Bucc had a lot of leg on him, yet his strides were quick and choppy, showing how energized he was and eager to get moving. Anarchi, however, moved smoothly, his pace calm and mediate, as if he were going on a nice country hack. I was already in the crouch, my hands clenched tightly around the reins in preparation of the signal. Pip seemed to follow my lead and was bent over Bucc's back, his body frozen in a perfect crouch. It was good to have another jockey around, one that I didn't have to teach and give strained praise for at least not falling off their mount. He knew how it worked, how to get a horse moving on how to keep them going in a good stride until the time was right. I was actually considering letting our race turn into a real one, just to see how experienced the man was.
We came past the turns and, true to my direction, Buccaneer slammed into a gallop. I kept Anarchi under a tight rein, feeling the tightest pull against the bit as Buccaneer bolted down the back stretch. Smiling idly, I gave him so room to work with, letting him open up at his own pace. If I urged him, he would only realize what I was doing and catch on to my plan, but if I let him make headway on his own fruition, then it would make it that much easier to put my idea into action. Buccaneer was nearly halfway down the stretch by now, with Anarchi moving at a controlled gallop. It was much faster than what he would run on his other works, so needless to say, I was incredibly pleased that he was actually putting heart into a work. I gave him some more rein, my grin growing as he took it and stretched out. His pace increased, going from a normal gallop to his racing speed. His eyes were cold, focused ahead in Buccaneer's bobbing form, as if stalking him. Buccaneer reached the end of the stretch and was pulled in by his rider. The colt was angry, tossing his head in defiance and attempting to throw pip with a few bucks, but the man stuck to the colt's back like glue, his form never breaking. I pulled Anarchi in not far from them, the colt snorting softly at having been stopped at what he considered early. "Good." I murmured, patting the colt's slightly dampened neck as he swaggered quietly toward the large black. Pip had quieted the colt, who stood on trembling legs, eager to go for another run. "Well? How was that?" he wondered, a lopsided smile on his face as he ran a hand through his unruly brown hair. I beamed back at him, giving Anarchi another pat in praise as Buccaneer was directed to our side to cool down. "Very good. Bucc likes you quite a bit, to actually listen to you. It takes a while to earn his respect. And as far as Anarchi is concerned, well, you two have helped a lot in getting him motivated. I'm going to need your help again after these next few races; I've got an idea that will get him the motivation he needs to run, even when You-Know-Who isn't entered in the race."