Spitfire

Four

*i guess maybe i should include a quick notice there is ONE swear word and can't remember if i marked this mature or not sorry if that's a problem idk what I'm doing rn ok yay !*

     Declan had returned to the track by the next morning. And with him, a new ride. 

     Sage walked Piper towards the rail of the track where Charlie and Lorne stood talking quietly, Aisling not too far away on her paint pony whose name she now knew to be Saga. There were only a few horses working on the track that Sage could see. And everyone's eyes were on one.

      Charlie eyed her from where she sat next to Aisling, "Looks like your friend managed to get ahold of a new ride."

     "Broken nose and all." Sage replied distantly, her gaze focused entirely on Declan as he came around the bend. The sound of stopwatches clicking reverberated across the track as he breezed by on a grey horse the color of the ocean mist and fog that so often plagued their seaside town. "What's his name?" She demanded, as Declan and the horse charged through furlong after furlong, legs pumping like a machine. 

     It was Aisling who offered it, with a small glance over to her. "He's registered with the jockey club as Flintlock."

     Sage snatched the word, tasting the slipperiness of it, the swirling mist and coldness to it that sent a chill skittering down her back. 

     Finally they slowed, and Charlie only shook his head at his stopwatch before walking away, Lorne in tow. Aisling let out a low whistle as the pair ground to a halt, "I ponied him out there and let me tell you, that horse is a nasty one. Tried to take a bite out of my Saga, almost did until I snapped at Declan to get his horse in check or else I would." She paused when Sage didn't reply, eyes still intent on horse and rider before shaking her head and nudged her pony away.

     Sage watched Declan and Flintlock until they were off the track, the horse throwing a tantrum the entire way to the barn. At one point Declan looked over, and she hated the twisted sneer on his face. She hated the look in that horse's eyes, like something dead. There was no life in it, not like Sophie's. And she hated the way it's ears remained pinned flat against its skull. Without another look back, Sage turned pipers head and walked away.

****

     Sophie, by her standards at least, was glad to see her. She galvanized Sage's soul with her amber eyed stare. And Sage gave the filly a good scratch on the head, avoiding being tossed away by her head bobbing. The young filly was getting a day off, and Sage ducked into her stall, checking her legs for any signs of heat or inflammation. She looked good, and Sage stretched her legs, Sophie every now and then taking a nibble of her hair, and tossed a light blanket over her. 

     With a scratch behind the ears, and an extra flake of alfalfa mix, Sage said goodnight and left the racetrack. 

****

     Sage wiped her mouth with her sleeve, setting down the pint she had ordered, and continued scarfing down her food. She didn't get out much, and rarely ate out, but her family had been frequenting Quinn's pub for several generations. And she had to admit the food wasn't half bad. A bonus was also that Aisling waited at Quinn's on the side, and she just so happened to be working that night as well. 

     Aisling came up next to her with a tsk, "You really shouldn't be eating that fast, else you'll choke." She remarked, clearing a dish from her table. 

     "Oi, you're blocking the race." Sage replied around a mouthful.

     Aisling rolled her eyes, "It's a rerun you dork."

     Sage rolled her eyes sarcastically back, "Yeah, but it's Lorne."

     "Our Lorne? As in Charlie's helping hand Lorne?"

     Sage pointed to the television where Lorne sat neatly folded over a well muscled bay in a steeplechase, "He was a jump jockey. Pretty good too, if what Charlie says is true."

     "If Charlie says he's good, then he's good." Aisling said, her eyes on the screen now too.

     Sage made a noncommittal noise, returning back to her food. 

     "And speak of the devil, here they are." Aisling said with a wink before spiriting away, dishes and tray in hand.

     Charlie and Lorne had just walked in the doorway, the former greeting Quinn who was the owner and barkeep with a laugh and an order of whiskey. And then they were upon her.

     "How'd you find me?" Sage asked, the two men sliding into chairs across from her. 

     "We got a nice tip." Charlie replied, with a glance over to Aisling who stood nearby, waiting on another patron, "Not to mention there's a certain recognizable pony hanging around the back."

     "Traitor," Sage grumbled. Aisling shot her a sly grin. "So I assume you're here to discuss the situation with Declan and Flintlock." 

     "Indeed that's the case. They're entered in the Irish Classic as well. And as I'm sure you're aware from today's workout, they're going to be a tough competitor to beat."

     "Not a problem. Declan's a shit jockey on a horse that's got untapped talent but lacks any sort of control whatsoever. They've also both got a nasty temper that'll likely get the better of them on race day." Sage replied, finishing her meal and washing it down with a healthy amount of Guinness before raising a hand to flag down Aisling. 

     "May I point out that you, dear Sage have a notorious temper that pairs wonderfully with Sophie's equally notorious temper." Lorne replied with deadpan look.

     "No, you may not point that out considering that I've never once let my temper get the best of me on a horse." Sage replied sweetly.

     "Now that's just a load of bollocks Sage!" Charlie roared, "And you know it too!" 

     Sage's attention snapped to Charlie, "And when hasn't it paid of, eh? When have I ever ridden with rage or anger and I didn't come home in the money?" She paused, taking a breath as she surveyed the two men in front of her. "If you can't respect my style then what am I here for? Sophie isn't a soft animal, you both know that, and neither am I."

     Lorne only shook his head slightly, not saying a word, but Charlie nodded, "Fine. You make a good point girlie. But we still need to discuss how we want her fit by the Classic."

     Sage leaned back into her booth. 

     "We alternate working gallops on the track and in the sand supplemented with a couple breezes throughout. I don't want her to hit her top speed in training, got it?"

     "Yes, sir." Sage replied. "I'd also suggest trot and canter work in the ocean during low tide."

     "And include an active recovery; hand walking, soaking, stretching, and the like." Lorne supplied.

     Charlie nodded, "This is good, we want to keep her supple and sound. I'll also have a chiropractor come out often to check up on her and hopefully prevent her from getting too tight."

     Sage and Lorne nodded in agreement. Above, on the television the race finished with a wonderfully guided sprint by Lorne. 

     "Oh look Lorne, you won!" Aisling announced, appearing out of nowhere to stand by their table. 

~~~~

hi guys, remember me? So sorry i left this for like half a year (or more? honestly i don't know) Senior year was a real sufferfest let me tell you. but i've got finals this upcoming week and like three different projects i am SO behind on because i was sick for like two weeks before this (technically still am) in which i raced my last high school mountain bike race in the desert in 20mph winds and the rain and hail but yea unrelevant but stuff has happened! and i graduate soon yay ! but not to worry i plan on finishing this novel, sorry if it's really crappy and rough. hope y'all are having a nice day !