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Description
Show: Skyy Ridge Monthly Races - June 2018

Horse: AS A Cat’s Revenge
Jockey: Ben Castion
Class: Sunflower Stakes G3 | 3yr+ | Must have placed 1st once | $75,000 | Dirt | 9.5 furlongs.

Results: 1st Place
___

“You and me again, Bastard.” Ben said as he mounted the Red Devil. As soon as he was up the colt instantly started battling. He was just on the curb of three years old and the year of training and racing had done nothing to quell the monster he was. Ben wanted Amalie to hire another jockey, one experienced with horses like him but they hadn’t found one that suited them. Ben was the tallest and strongest, none of the other three could stay on. Amalie didn’t even try.

“He had me on the floor just leading him out of the turnout,” she told him one time he cornered her about it, “I wasn’t even in the saddle. I’m no weakling but I just don’t have the muscle to control him.”

“You gave him a right thrashing when he tried to bite you, though.” He’d pointed out.

“Yeah and now he knows not to try anything with me and I can successfully tack him up but holding him out there?” Amalie shook her head. “It’s like I’m not even there. I’d sooner try my luck with Harley’s Demon.”

That had ended that conversation; everyone knew she couldn’t control Demon at all. With that, Ben resigned himself to another war with the red colt with murder in his eyes.

It seemed they kept coming back to Skyy Ridge, Red had Maine’s here and he’d coughed a storm then too. There were other horses here though thankfully no others within biting range of the Bastard. Still, it was a true battle getting him up to the gates and holy hell he protested: throwing his head, sidestepping, kicking... if he didn’t settle one day he’d break his legs. Ben wasn’t sure he’d miss him.

“Sit still and save it for the track, will ya?!”

Oh, Red listened.

He nearly busted the gates down before they opened, he was so bull-headed. Red was out for blood - and Ben happened to have a body full of the stuff and was sitting just on his back. So innocently, foolishly, thinking he was out of range.

No one is out of range of Red’s teeth.

Red swung around, his head reaching back and grabbing Ben by the arm, yanking his jockey off his back. There was a sickening crack and Ben cried out before he hit the ground, Red’s hooves connecting with his helmet and, feeling sick to his stomach, the Antrium jockey blacked out.

Description
Show: Skyy Ridge Monthly Races - June 2018

Horse: AS A Cat’s Revenge
Jockey: Ben Castion
Class: Sunflower Stakes G3 | 3yr+ | Must have placed 1st once | $75,000 | Dirt | 9.5 furlongs.

Results: 1st Place
___

“You and me again, Bastard.” Ben said as he mounted the Red Devil. As soon as he was up the colt instantly started battling. He was just on the curb of three years old and the year of training and racing had done nothing to quell the monster he was. Ben wanted Amalie to hire another jockey, one experienced with horses like him but they hadn’t found one that suited them. Ben was the tallest and strongest, none of the other three could stay on. Amalie didn’t even try.

“He had me on the floor just leading him out of the turnout,” she told him one time he cornered her about it, “I wasn’t even in the saddle. I’m no weakling but I just don’t have the muscle to control him.”

“You gave him a right thrashing when he tried to bite you, though.” He’d pointed out.

“Yeah and now he knows not to try anything with me and I can successfully tack him up but holding him out there?” Amalie shook her head. “It’s like I’m not even there. I’d sooner try my luck with Harley’s Demon.”

That had ended that conversation; everyone knew she couldn’t control Demon at all. With that, Ben resigned himself to another war with the red colt with murder in his eyes.

It seemed they kept coming back to Skyy Ridge, Red had Maine’s here and he’d coughed a storm then too. There were other horses here though thankfully no others within biting range of the Bastard. Still, it was a true battle getting him up to the gates and holy hell he protested: throwing his head, sidestepping, kicking... if he didn’t settle one day he’d break his legs. Ben wasn’t sure he’d miss him.

“Sit still and save it for the track, will ya?!”

Oh, Red listened.

He nearly busted the gates down before they opened, he was so bull-headed. Red was out for blood - and Ben happened to have a body full of the stuff and was sitting just on his back. So innocently, foolishly, thinking he was out of range.

No one is out of range of Red’s teeth.

Red swung around, his head reaching back and grabbing Ben by the arm, yanking his jockey off his back. There was a sickening crack and Ben cried out before he hit the ground, Red’s hooves connecting with his helmet and, feeling sick to his stomach, the Antrium jockey blacked out.