Starting With Something Familiar (Open)

[Sam Lettington]

Saying that Nut was excited as a huge understatement.

Nut was trembling with joy- kid you not!- and Sam could barely tack her up with her swinging her butt around to look every which way. But somehow, someway, she managed to get that dang saddle on the buckskin's back without getting slammed across the hall by her big butt.

Now how Sam got the bridle on without losing the filly had to be some kind of magic- She's sure of this.

Finally, after much preparation, they were on the trail.

Nutters jigged and danced under Sam, breathing hard and working up a small sweat in her excitement. Sam found it hard to keep her hands relaxed but still hold Nut from letting loose while Nut, herself, was finding it hard not to go bolting off.

Nut, in general, was a good horse. She wanted to do good most of the time. She had a good heart and loved her job. It's just that, her heart was a tad too big. She tried too hard to do her job. So hard, in fact, that it made it diffcult to ride her. She was ready for the run well before you were and always seemed three or four steps ahead of her rider if the rider didn't know Nut. And it took Sam two whole years to get to know Nut before she actually knew her, and even now Sam's still learning things about her crazy buckskin.

Easy babe, Sam cooed, wanting to give her a pat but knowing that if she did such a thing Nut would take full advantage of her hand off the reins and surely be off and galloping in no time. With or without Sam. (She might come back after a week.) We'll try to find someone to ride with us. Maybe even a little race. Sounds good, girl?

Was it sad Sam was half-expecting some kind of response from Nut?

[Anthony Lovasz]

He was small, he was lazy, he was docile, and he was sweet... in the barn. He was small, he was agile and quick, he was headstrong, almost violent, and he had a knack for throwing his rider... on the track. No one would have guessed that the small poorly conformed thoroughbred could possibly have been a racehorse, let alone a Santa Anita winner. The people who saw him in the barn saw a lazy kids pony whose point in life was to cart kids around. The people who saw him in the track saw a crazy horse that would be impossible to get in the starting gate, let alone successfully run a race with the jockey on his back the whole time. But rest assured, to all those doubters, this little gray horse was indeed a winner; a long shot, but a winner nonetheless.

Anthony had been working with the horse for about a year now, and though you could never tell if you hadn't seen him before, a lot of progress had been made. While Anthony did still expect to be thrown at least five times a week, at least the horse was now semi-rideable if you were crazy and had a death wish. Trust me on this one, look Anthony Lovasz up in Webster's dictionary, and you'll find him defined as "crazy with a death wish." Then again, what jockey wouldn't be defined as that? There was no counting the numbed of previously and currently broken bones in his body, if there was one that hadn't been broken at some point, odds were it would be before he died. He'd been thrown, stepped on, rolled over top of, trampled by a 20 horse field, crushed, bitten, kicked, and every other manner of being hurt by racehorses that anyone could possibly think of.

Today... well... wasn't a good day. Doubt had been in a hell of a mood and threw him three times before that blasted shoulder of his was finally dislocated, and he decided to call it a day before the horse killed him, he still had to ride King anyway. Why he hadn't started riding the saner of his two horses first yet was beyond him, he wasn't that good at planning, that was what he had Alex for, but he currently wasn't letting her anywhere near the barn, because he knew she'd try to ride Loco and the last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt after nearly losing her just a few weeks ago. So he lead the ornery gray back down to the barn and went about getting the horse untacked, hosed down, and back in his stall before fetching the half blind chestnut from the pasture and bringing him in to be tacked and ridden... at least King was much calmer these days than he used to be.

Once he was at the track again, trying to mentally prepare himself for the searing pain he was about to put himself through from his shoulder, he stopped at the gate onto the track and just stood there a moment, getting that blank look on his face that he was so famous for. He had a single track mind. Not that he was always only thinking about one certain thing... it was just that when he got to thinking about something he would just completely zone out and be totally incapable of breaking out of that thought on his own, and it would so consume him that he wouldn't notice anything going on around him. Dangerous for working around such high strung animals... absolutely... but dangerous probably should have been his middle name.

He was jolted from his thoughts suddenly when King turned his head swiftly, causing the reins Anthony was holding to be jerked, and sending that sharp unforgiving pain through him. It was a pain he was all too used to experiencing. "qué demo..." he started to mutter in his native language to the horse before he saw the girl and her horse come around the corner and stopped mid-word. Due to his blindness, King's hearing was far more superb than most horses' and considering the trail was on his blind side, he hadn't liked the sound of approaching hooves one bit. "Calm yourself King it's not like you've never seen a horse and rider before." he said to the horse before looking towards the girl with his signature boyish grin. Anthony was the kind of person whose attitude on life was contagious, it seemed impossible to make him stop smiling, and despite his former fame in the horse racing world before the accident that temporarily ended his career, he was ridiculously down to earth and always seemed capable of relating to everyone about everything. Life was what you made it, and he had chosen to make it good.

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[Sam Lettington]

I want to run! The mare's desire was plain to see. I know, Sam mumbled to Nut. I know. I'll let you loose soon enough. Soon enough apparently wasn't good enough for the buckskin filly. She bowed her head over the bit and charged forwards, knees nearly hitting her nose in her usual awkward trot.

Sam smiled, glad Nut's spirit was still as restless as ever. To tell the truth, Sam loved how crazy the mare was. She wasn't crazy as in, she'll buck just to throw you. She was crazy as in, she'll trot along nicely, go to a dead stop, glance at something then spin and trot the opposite direction just as nicely- despite if you wanted her to or not and no matter how hard you are telling her otherwise. Or instead of running from something scary, she'll run at it and try to scare it and, if possible, kill it.

Surprisingly, Nut had rarely let Sam fall. Even when Sam was about to fall, Nut would go out of her way to keep her on- swerving across horses to push Sam back into the center of her back and slowing down were her usual tactics. Sam had only one fall off the mare- due to a tractor backfiring. The filly teleported 20 feet to the right and Sam was simply left behind. Nut took her new found freedom and ran with it- literally. Sam swore up and down later how Nut was laughing as she galloped by- of course only near Sam and where she could see her. Otherwise, the mockery wouldn't be as fun.

A squeal and sudden tug on the reins ripped Sam from her thoughts. Nut's head was nearly higher then Sam's eye level with her ears pricked and her nostrils flared. Her mouth opened and she let loose a shrill whinny. Peering between her two straining ears, Sam spotted a horse and rider. For a moment, Sam tried to recognize who it could be then, with a sigh, remembered she wasn't at home anymore. She wasn't well known and people couldn't spot her and Nutters from across the track. Here she was just some girl and some annoying buckskin. Not a Breeder's Cup winner or Hall of Fame horse, not a Triple Crown owner or a jockey always known for long-shot victories. Just some girl and some horse.

Nut didn't let her loll in her homesickness for long. Her front end raised and a hoof struck out. She bowed her head and snorted loudly, pairing at the air- as if she wouldn't get in trouble for pawing if it wasn't touching the dirt and leaving marks.

Keep going, Nutters, Sam said with a laugh. With a small squeeze, the mare walked a stride then switched hooves and stretched out her foot to paw at the air again, but only once before she walked forwards. Her head came up and her nose poked ahead of her as she began to jig again.

Sam smiled and nodded at the other rider. Short stirrups, Sam observed with a small smirk. Looks like we might actually have some competition, Sam mumbled to Nut who seemed to know this from the start.

[Anthony Lovasz]

If asked, Anthony would certainly not lie, he missed racing. There was something about the thrill and the focus it took. Something about being surrounded by horses bursting with power and ready to explode. Something about racing was simply addicting. One taste of it and he had been hooked for life. It had been over two years since he had last been in an actual race, and although he hadn't mentioned it to anyone, he was very seriously considering renewing his license and starting to hire out as a jockey again. He knew it would take time to get back into it, and for a while he'd mostly be restricted to claiming races and smaller races... but once he started making a name for himself, people would hopefully start to remember the kind of rider he was back before the accident and he would start getting better rides again.

Of course, once any of Alex's horses were ready to be raced they would be given top priority and any race they ran in would trump every other race, no matter how big the stakes. That was one thing that had bothered him about getting back into racing. He couldn't ride the horses he owned, but he didn't want to put all this work into them just to have someone else ride them... when he married Alex, though, that solved all his problems. He just signed his two horses over to her, got Mr. Fently to sign as "official trainer" and everything continued just as it had before, only now he could legally race them. He loved his horses, everyone knew that, and if he'd had to part with them to anyone else, he would not have been very pleased. He wanted them trained and treated in a very specific fashion and he was the one to do it.

He watched the other horse as it moved by them, noting the seemingly jittery and hotheadedness of the animal. She was probably exploding with energy and was no doubt very fast. She definitely looked like she could be a racehorse. Lean and sleek, well muscled, and quite fiery. From the way she seemed to recognize the track he didn't doubt that she had been raced at some point in her life. Anthony was a well known horseman around Pinewood, and most people knew that he would always take note of horses and everything about them before he really noticed the people. It was just habit. At the track he would always go look fore prospective rides. He was somewhat selective in the horses he rode, and because he was a good enough rider he could afford it.

His attention shifted then to the girl who was certainly small enough to have been a jockey at some point in her life. She looked like she knew the track well, just as her horse did, and knew how to handle a hot horse like the one she was on. Everything about the pair just screamed racing, though considering they were out on the old rundown track that no one used anymore, he had a feeling that neither of them were still competing in the racing world. After all, this place was hardly ever used before he and Alex came along, and even now the place was still definitely not grand at all. They had repaired the rails on the track and done some basic footing maintenance, but other than that, it was definitely not the sort of place currently competing horses and riders would come to train.

When she acknowledged him with a smile and a nod, his ever polite instincts demanded that he say something. Anthony was the sort of guy who everybody knew because he was always going out of his way to be chipper and friendly to everyone... even the people he really wasn't fond of at all. Nice looking horse you've got there. he said, glancing over the animal once again. She looked exceptionally fit, especially for a filly. It wasn't too often you saw a mare with an equal amount of muscle tone on her as you'd see on a colt. King, jealous that all the attention was on the other horse and not him, turned his big head towards Anthony and grasped the jockey's shirt in his teeth, tugging on it naggingly, demanding attention. Anthony ignored him, and just reached up and pulled the fabric out of the horse's mouth, then pushed his head away. For a racehorse, King was surprisingly sweet when he was with Alex or Anthony. He could often be edgy and headstrong, but for the most part, he was relatively friendly, a nice change from the violent and unpredictable gray he'd been on not long before.

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[Sam Lettington]

The filly continued to dance and jig, her two toned knees lifting higher than necessary. Sam remembers a particular jockey, who simply never liked Nut, ragging about how she looked more like a Saddlebred than a Thoroughbred. Sam was miffed by the comment, but after Nut took the win, she decided she was perfectly happy with her jaw-bopping knees. If anything, it made Nut more of well... A nut.

Nice looking horse you've got there, she heard as she got closer to the man and colt. Sam pulled Nut up to a stop- though she was thoroughly upset by this but came to an abrupt halt. Nut stared directly at the colt and despite how Sam wiggled the bit and tried to keep her attention, it only made her head bend towards the rein but her attention stayed on the colt.

Thanks, Sam smiled in response. Her brown eyes trailed over the horse, trying to imagine what it was trained in. Racer, perhaps? But Sam always sucked at trying to figure out what exactly a horse was good for.

You see, Sam was never one to judge a horse. Frankly, she sucked at it. She'd bet that a horse would win and of course they place last. Then she'd think one horse has no chance of winning, and they'll win by three furlongs. Once, she thought this horse would be a surefire winner. Turns out he was just a track pony.

As expected, this quickly ended Sam's attempt at trying to gamble or even size up the competition.
Later, Sam began to not only watch the horse's confirmation, but their drive and just how badly they wanted the win. She found that the horses that absolutely loved their job, did their best at it and would often come out on top. No matter their size, or well color and sanity in Nut's case.

Nice fella you got there yourself, Sam said, her gaze returning lazily to the man. Do you race him? Secretly she was asking if there was a track around here, but she couldn't let herself back into the racing world. She took herself out for a reason and she was determined to keep herself focused on Nut. If Nut couldn't race, or Sam wouldn't allow her to race, Sam wouldn't allow herself to race either. They both needed a break and whether Sam would return to the track, was uncertain and she decided she would when she had retired Nut and if she still felt like it going for those morning gallops.