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Description
HA. You cannot defeat me, midterms!

Continuation of:

As Grimm's fourth year dawned and the painted filly began to train for her first debut in over a year, it became painfully obvious that racing was not her passion. She did not possess the fire that brewed within so many of her brethren, nor did she dance and flail with energy when not running. Still, she knew what her job was, and she did it to the best of her ability whenever asked.

Thus, we knew going into her campaign that she would never be one of BCC's greats. She would never live up to her dam's status and would never triumph over her stablemates in a duel. Yet we knew, in easier company, she would win because we asked her to. Bless her, Grimm was just that kind of horse.

***

Grimm trained for five months before her debut, starting in December until early April. Said debut was a minor maiden special weight, but would forever go down in history as one of the most shocking.

The day dawned bright and sunny and remained so far into the night, so our Grimm--fully grown into her 16.1 hands and sporting the look of a young adult mare--faced good conditions for her first start in 17 months. Still, despite all her training, we didn't quite know what to expect. Her past experiences with evil Lady Luck still made trainers quiver in fear and give her a wide birth.

"Just see what she can do," Dawson ordered Robby Dolorez as he gave the smaller man a leg up. "If she doesn't win, fine. There's always next time. Pressure her a little, get her going, but don't burn her out, understood?"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" Robby snarked, and Dawson rolled his eyes. Still, he fought off a smile. The veteran jockey had an interesting sense of humor, but for some reason had yet to get on his nerves.

When the call to post began, Robby saluted Dawson and guided his painted charge into line before they quietly walked into the gate. He could feel the filly's muscles gathering beneath him and relished the feeling. The bell sounded and the field ricocheted from their respective boxes. Grimm broke slowly from her number four gate and promptly stumbled. Before she could even get her feet back underneath her, the field was eight lengths ahead of them and pulling away.

"Dammit," Robby cursed. This was not good. Grimm was a powerful horse in her own right, but was green. She needed to be near the other horses to get a feel for them if they were going to get across the board, much less win. And still the field continued to pull away. Oblivious, Grimm did what she did during every morning workout: she coasted along at a steady pace and waited for Robby's signal.

[link]

The race was only seven furlongs, and he could see the frontrunner's nose lean into the turn for home, and twenty-seven lengths was a lot of ground to make up. If they were going to do this, it had to be now. Dawson's orders to not burn the filly out flitted through his head, but when he loosened the reins and flashed the whip in Grimm's eyes, he felt something extraordinary.

He had ridden crotch-rockets and cannons, firecrackers and pure living energy. Each horse had a feel to them, a signature unique to him or her alone. Grimm was no different, but this... this thing he felt was amazing and like nothing he had ever felt before.

As he waved his whip, he felt Grimm's shoulders dip down. Or perhaps her hindquarters lifted. He wasn't quite sure which; all he knew was one minute he was crouching in the stirrups like any other race and the next he was tilting forward and had to quickly readjust his seat for fear of falling flat on his face.

Then... then they flew.

There was no whiplash action like with Wendigo, nor any noticeable increase in speed that he could feel. He only knew they were accelerating by the way the poles flashing before his eyes blurred together and the distance between them and the field disappeared at an amazing rate.

The announcer was oblivious, so centered on the dueling leaders that he never even said Grimm's name until she was almost at the wire, but those few people watching could see the tri-colored form blazing around her competition as if they stood still.

"--and it's Rena's Way and Travertine dueling in front, Rena's Way, Travertine... back to Rena's Way, and we're almost at the wire and Travertine has reclaimed the lead and pulling away, it looks like she's going to wi--and here comes Proserpine! Where did she come from?! Prosperpine is moving like a freight engine full speed ahead and Proserpine has WON this maiden special weight by almost two lengths! What just happened?! Where did she even come from?"

On Grimm's back, Robby was gasping for breath as he struggled to hang on through his shock.

***

And thus began a year-long love story between Grimm, Robby, and the tracks. As stated before, Grimm would never go on to win any Grade I races, but she hit the board every time and never failed to give her fans--and Robby--the race of her life. Again, she was docile and didn't have the inherent need to run, but when asked, she gave it her all. Through fourteen glorious starts, Nicostratus's daughter made her mark on the world and the individuals she came into contact with--especially her jockey--and was dubbed by her fans the "female Silky Sullivan" in respect to her incredible runs from last to first despite impossible odds.

***

[link]

Robby Dolorez smiled softly as he rubbed Grimm's speckled muzzle. "Hey, there, little filly," murmured quietly. The young mare snuffled his pockets, knowing there were sugar cubes hidden within just for her. He chuckled and dug one out, then rolled his eyes as she happily swallowed it whole. "Damn, girlie, slow down. Savor it, you know?"

Savor it. Yeah... Maybe he should have taken his own advice. As he stood there, holding his darling Grimm's bridle and waiting for her new jockey, Will, to arrive for her final workout of her career, he felt the memories of the past twenty-some years flit through his mind. So fast, he thought sadly. So fast they've gone, and suddenly I'm retired. Why am I retired? When did this happen? And most importantly, Why? But he knew it was for the best. His bones hurt every time he climbed on Grimm's back, and she was his easiest mount. If he continued, it wouldn't be long before he severely injured himself, and then where would he be?

Yeah, better he back out now while on top rather than later from the horizontal position of a hospital bed.

A hand touched his shoulder gently, and he turned to see Will Kayton standing behind him. In the other man's arms was a beaten up old saddle. Black leather, shiny silver buckles and stirrups, but obviously well used. He knew that saddle well, as it was his.

"Care to take her for one last spin?" Will offered quietly.

Robby gazed into Will's eyes for a few moments before he reached out and grasped the leather.

Foal Pic and Bio

Racing Season: 4 Year Old
14 starts--9/2/3
$874,000
Important Wins: GII New York H, GIII Glens Falls H, GIII Athenia

Other Starts: GI Diana H (2nd place), GI Personal Ensign (3), GI Flower Bowl Inv. (2), GI Filly and Mare Turf (3)

Racing Stats

Total Wins: 19 starts--9/2/3
Graded Stakes Wins: 1 GII, 2 GIII
Career Earnings (in US currency): $874,275
Racing Style: Deep closer, distance (9-12f), turf (but is versatile)
Titles: None

Art and Characters (C) Me

Next on:

Description
HA. You cannot defeat me, midterms!

Continuation of:

As Grimm's fourth year dawned and the painted filly began to train for her first debut in over a year, it became painfully obvious that racing was not her passion. She did not possess the fire that brewed within so many of her brethren, nor did she dance and flail with energy when not running. Still, she knew what her job was, and she did it to the best of her ability whenever asked.

Thus, we knew going into her campaign that she would never be one of BCC's greats. She would never live up to her dam's status and would never triumph over her stablemates in a duel. Yet we knew, in easier company, she would win because we asked her to. Bless her, Grimm was just that kind of horse.

***

Grimm trained for five months before her debut, starting in December until early April. Said debut was a minor maiden special weight, but would forever go down in history as one of the most shocking.

The day dawned bright and sunny and remained so far into the night, so our Grimm--fully grown into her 16.1 hands and sporting the look of a young adult mare--faced good conditions for her first start in 17 months. Still, despite all her training, we didn't quite know what to expect. Her past experiences with evil Lady Luck still made trainers quiver in fear and give her a wide birth.

"Just see what she can do," Dawson ordered Robby Dolorez as he gave the smaller man a leg up. "If she doesn't win, fine. There's always next time. Pressure her a little, get her going, but don't burn her out, understood?"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" Robby snarked, and Dawson rolled his eyes. Still, he fought off a smile. The veteran jockey had an interesting sense of humor, but for some reason had yet to get on his nerves.

When the call to post began, Robby saluted Dawson and guided his painted charge into line before they quietly walked into the gate. He could feel the filly's muscles gathering beneath him and relished the feeling. The bell sounded and the field ricocheted from their respective boxes. Grimm broke slowly from her number four gate and promptly stumbled. Before she could even get her feet back underneath her, the field was eight lengths ahead of them and pulling away.

"Dammit," Robby cursed. This was not good. Grimm was a powerful horse in her own right, but was green. She needed to be near the other horses to get a feel for them if they were going to get across the board, much less win. And still the field continued to pull away. Oblivious, Grimm did what she did during every morning workout: she coasted along at a steady pace and waited for Robby's signal.

[link]

The race was only seven furlongs, and he could see the frontrunner's nose lean into the turn for home, and twenty-seven lengths was a lot of ground to make up. If they were going to do this, it had to be now. Dawson's orders to not burn the filly out flitted through his head, but when he loosened the reins and flashed the whip in Grimm's eyes, he felt something extraordinary.

He had ridden crotch-rockets and cannons, firecrackers and pure living energy. Each horse had a feel to them, a signature unique to him or her alone. Grimm was no different, but this... this thing he felt was amazing and like nothing he had ever felt before.

As he waved his whip, he felt Grimm's shoulders dip down. Or perhaps her hindquarters lifted. He wasn't quite sure which; all he knew was one minute he was crouching in the stirrups like any other race and the next he was tilting forward and had to quickly readjust his seat for fear of falling flat on his face.

Then... then they flew.

There was no whiplash action like with Wendigo, nor any noticeable increase in speed that he could feel. He only knew they were accelerating by the way the poles flashing before his eyes blurred together and the distance between them and the field disappeared at an amazing rate.

The announcer was oblivious, so centered on the dueling leaders that he never even said Grimm's name until she was almost at the wire, but those few people watching could see the tri-colored form blazing around her competition as if they stood still.

"--and it's Rena's Way and Travertine dueling in front, Rena's Way, Travertine... back to Rena's Way, and we're almost at the wire and Travertine has reclaimed the lead and pulling away, it looks like she's going to wi--and here comes Proserpine! Where did she come from?! Prosperpine is moving like a freight engine full speed ahead and Proserpine has WON this maiden special weight by almost two lengths! What just happened?! Where did she even come from?"

On Grimm's back, Robby was gasping for breath as he struggled to hang on through his shock.

***

And thus began a year-long love story between Grimm, Robby, and the tracks. As stated before, Grimm would never go on to win any Grade I races, but she hit the board every time and never failed to give her fans--and Robby--the race of her life. Again, she was docile and didn't have the inherent need to run, but when asked, she gave it her all. Through fourteen glorious starts, Nicostratus's daughter made her mark on the world and the individuals she came into contact with--especially her jockey--and was dubbed by her fans the "female Silky Sullivan" in respect to her incredible runs from last to first despite impossible odds.

***

[link]

Robby Dolorez smiled softly as he rubbed Grimm's speckled muzzle. "Hey, there, little filly," murmured quietly. The young mare snuffled his pockets, knowing there were sugar cubes hidden within just for her. He chuckled and dug one out, then rolled his eyes as she happily swallowed it whole. "Damn, girlie, slow down. Savor it, you know?"

Savor it. Yeah... Maybe he should have taken his own advice. As he stood there, holding his darling Grimm's bridle and waiting for her new jockey, Will, to arrive for her final workout of her career, he felt the memories of the past twenty-some years flit through his mind. So fast, he thought sadly. So fast they've gone, and suddenly I'm retired. Why am I retired? When did this happen? And most importantly, Why? But he knew it was for the best. His bones hurt every time he climbed on Grimm's back, and she was his easiest mount. If he continued, it wouldn't be long before he severely injured himself, and then where would he be?

Yeah, better he back out now while on top rather than later from the horizontal position of a hospital bed.

A hand touched his shoulder gently, and he turned to see Will Kayton standing behind him. In the other man's arms was a beaten up old saddle. Black leather, shiny silver buckles and stirrups, but obviously well used. He knew that saddle well, as it was his.

"Care to take her for one last spin?" Will offered quietly.

Robby gazed into Will's eyes for a few moments before he reached out and grasped the leather.

Foal Pic and Bio

Racing Season: 4 Year Old
14 starts--9/2/3
$874,000
Important Wins: GII New York H, GIII Glens Falls H, GIII Athenia

Other Starts: GI Diana H (2nd place), GI Personal Ensign (3), GI Flower Bowl Inv. (2), GI Filly and Mare Turf (3)

Racing Stats

Total Wins: 19 starts--9/2/3
Graded Stakes Wins: 1 GII, 2 GIII
Career Earnings (in US currency): $874,275
Racing Style: Deep closer, distance (9-12f), turf (but is versatile)
Titles: None

Art and Characters (C) Me

Next on: