Sapphire River Stables ~Horse&Human RP~ NEW AND NEEDING!!!!!

[WilloweWolf]

Natalie Justice
"Oh, but you should see Fire run. She beat me friends Thoroughbred, and Rust is quite the fast horse." I replied, patting the mare's neck.

[~Star Grace~]

James shrugged, "Alright then, let's go. One...two...three!" James spurred Chex into a gallop, both horses were neck and neck.

[WilloweWolf]

Natalie Winters
I grinned and urged Angel's Fire to a faster gait, the mare responded quickly, lengthening her stride. They puled a little bit ahead of Chex and James.

[~Star Grace~]

James spurred Chex faster, pulling right next to Angel Fire. The stride was long, almost 73 degrees angled, even though Chex and Angel Fire were extremely quick, he wondered how much faster a racehorse could go, especially since the average racehorse had a much longer stride, but only Thoroughbreds were genetically made so that their legs could go into those strides if pushed hard enough.
James looked up, they were almost to the river, Chex and Angel Fire were still neck and neck, and they made it to the river at the same time. "Tie," James said, nodding, he reached a hand down to pat Chex's neck, Chex snorted happily, thrilled from the run.

[WilloweWolf]

Natalie Winters
I reigned in, "Woah, girl. No going swimming with me on your back." I turned to James and nodded, "Tie." I patted Fire and walked her in a small circle.

[~Star Grace~]

James smiled, "I agree," he spurred Chex into a small walk, walking him out to cool him down. "So what do you and Fire do usually?" he asked.

[WilloweWolf]

Natalie Winters
I grinned, "Don't think it's only Fire. I also have a thoroughbred named Imperial Crimson."

[~Star Grace~]

James smiled, "Cool, I only have Chex, and you already know what Chex does. But what do Fire and Imperial Crimson do?" he asked with a grin.

[WilloweWolf]

Natalie Winters
I smiled, "Crimson is a jumper, and Angel really doesn't do anything. I just ride her for pleasure." A glint came into my eye, "Though I do train her to beat thoroughbreds."

{Eep! I forgot about Jade.}
Jade Summers
I groomed Patriot, bringing the curry comb along hid back with a smooth, rhythmic motion. The stallion jerked on the cross ties, and I grinned, "You're going to have to deal with it, boy. Otherwise, you'll feel nasty tomorrow." I stepped back, admiring my work, "There, done!" Patriot gave a joyful whinny, making me burst out laughing. My horse gave me a look that said 'crazy human', and I sighed, "You're right." I undid the cross-ties and tacked him up, then led his out of the barn. I swung up into the saddle and walked him for a few minutes, then sped up to a trot, then a canter. I slowed as I came to the river. "Hi, you two."

Natalie
I looked up, "Hi."

[landofmakebelieve]

.:My Name Is:.

Christina Louise McLean

.:Some people call me:.

Chris. I prefer Chris.

.:I am a..:.

Girl

.:I am this old:.

21 years.

.:What I'm Like:.

She is sarcastic, street smart, and comes from a poor background and broken home. Having been alone for almost her entire life, she has had to fend for herself. This has led her to become slightly bitter, but she tries to hide it with her sarcasm as her emotional shield.

.:Who I'm crushing on:.

No one yet.

.:My partner is:.

...

.:My Horse:.

Northern Style.

.:Anything else:.

Specialty is racing

Well, hi there. You may wonder why I am here. Well, wonder no more, as I am here to tell you the story of Northern Style. Take a seat, you may be here a minute...

Where oh where to begin...? Ah.... Does the name ring any bells? You'd be right to have a look at this colt's name and say, "Hey, that looks familiar....". Would you now like to know why? Well, you see, the reason you recognize this dark colt's name, is because his sire was only the best Canadian racehorse ever... The one and only Northern Dancer. Northern Style is the last colt that the champion stud ever sired before he passed away. Before we get into anything else of great detail, let me take you back in time... To the day exactly two years ago, when this beautiful colt took his first breath...

...In a large, well lit box stall, Dancing At Sunset, felt a familiar rippling stomach pain. As a broodmare who had birthed many other colts and fillies, she knew exactly what was going on, and knew exactly what to do. Sunset laid down as the stomach pains grew and contractions hit her. Eventually, the broodmare felt she was ready, and gave a couple great pushes. To her relief, this was an easy birth. Lifting her head, Sunset looked at the tiny bundle laying in a heap next to her rear end. She gave a nicker and went to work cleaning the colt. The humans of course came in and checked her foal over. Sunset merely pinned her ears at them, but allowed them to touch him. After they left, she continued licking the colt. As the mare felt him struggling to stand, she too stood. Sunset stuck her nose under his tiny frame, helping him to his hooves, nickering encouragingly when needed.When she was sure he could stand on his own, Sunset pulled back her nose. His tiny legs trembled, but the colt never fell. Beaming with pride, she nosed him to nurse, smiling as he suckled right away...

Next, we travel to a few days later, after Northern Dancer gets his first turnout...

...The colt looked around, stepping closer to his mother and leaning against her.

Already, he had gotten the barn name "Crazy Legs" from how he would prance and move so quickly around the box stall. But now he was scared. The other mares and foals. The strnge flowy stuff on the ground that his mother seemed to be eating. When he felt his mother nudge him away, he quickly stepped back to her, but then as she pushed him away a second time, then walked over to the other mares, Crazy Legs got the idea and slowly, and very wearily, explored the paddock. Before long, maybe an hour or two, he was running around, playing tag with the other colts and fillies. After all the hesitation at the start, the young champion barely had any time to play with friends. So, when he seen the humans coming with the lead shanks, you can bet he ran to the other side of the field, the farthest from the gate and the humans. All the other mares and foals were brought in before Dancing At Sunset and Northern Style were taken in, because nobody could catch the little rascal. Crazy Legs would dark around, weaving between the stable hands who were too slow to catch the quick little colt. After some time, maybe thirty to forty-five minutes, the stable hands got smart, and drove him into a corner, where they slowly crept in toward him, and attached the lead shank before he could get away...

Now we are going to go to when he is a year and a half old, and getting broken into the saddle...

...It was finally his time. Soon the colt would be ridden around the great dirt oval! He was going to be trained on a dirst track,

instead of turf, that was if he could ever keep a rider on his back. Northern Style was never fond of the thought of a human on his back. He took to the bit and bridle just fine, but when it came to the rider sitting up on the tall colt's back, he would go into bucking fits, squealing and bucking until his rider either bailed or went flying off his back. After causing multiple riders broken bones or sprains, the barn manager decided to speak to th owners about bringing in a professional to train him. Five days after the manager and owner spoke, the black silverado of Christina McLean rolled up the stables driveway. Christina was a small girl; a jockey. She had ridden one horse, Rags To Riches, to a triple crown victory, and ridden in the races the triple crown consisted of many times. Enough about the trainer. The day Christina arrived, she walked strait into the barn before even unpacking, already carrying a riding helmet and wearing the proper breeches, and when right to Northern Style's stall. She told the nearest stable hand to saddle him and bring him to the sand arena. When the stable hand brought her Crazy Legs, she took hold of the cheek straps of the bridle, holding the colt's head still in front of her face. They stared into eachothers eyes for a few moments before she took the reins and climbed into his saddle. Northern Style began bucking at once, so she had to quickly put her feet in the stirrups and gather the reins before she was nearly flung off him. Christina held tight to the saddle, not giving an inch of rein. The colt carried on bucking with her on for about 4-5 minutes before he grew tired and let her control him. They did this exercise for another week and a half, every day, until he did as you asked without bucking. After that Christina packed up her bags and left...

We are going to skip his first couple races, and just talk about how h is now.

Northern Style has been sold to a new owner, where he is in training for his next big qualifier race. He is two and a half years old, so the races that he enters now are going to need to really count if he wants to make it to The Triple Crown in the next year or so. Northern Style currently stands at 16.1hh, and he is still rapidly growing.

He hopes to see you out on the track sometime soon!











© Form: Me
© Pictures: Their Rightful Owners