HOME | DD

Description
Ouch...I haven't submitted a deviation for so long that I forgot how. Even, worse, I actually drew this picture in July! But I'm working on a new digital picture now, so *hopefully* I can finish it soon.
This picture shows Albus Aureus at 2 years old and his jockey Charlotte Brooks.
____________________

Albus stood with his nose pressed into his groom’s elbow. The noise of scores of voices chaffed at his ears, and the boiling energy of the other colts burned his sensitive skin. His groom slowly rubbed a hand along the base of his mane, disappointed but unsurprised by the big painted colt’s reaction to his first race day crowd. Albus had been the foal who always hid behind his mother, never harbouring the slightest inclination to explore the vast world he had entered, until the day the golden filly Kick Start pranced up, gave his nose a cursory sniff, and launched into a feisty game of tag. From then on the two of them were constant companions, and Kick Start was never seen without little Albus tagging along. By the time they were yearlings Albus towered over her, but he didn’t seem to realize that when he needed to hide behind someone.

The time inevitably came when the two had to be separated if they were ever going to become racehorses. Albus’s training began slowly as he learned to handle to world without his ‘big sister’ there to lead the way. His first workouts were slow and stumbling as he tried to figure out how to work past his continued growth spurt, and it seemed that every time things began smoothly he found something new that made him spook. The rough road of his progress undulated and backtracked, but eventually he was consistent, if not quite blazing fast, and he was sent out for his first race.

Charlotte Brooks had never ridden in any major races before, but she had worked with horses from Climax Stables for most of her young career as a jockey and something about her reassured Albus. Perhaps it was that she shared his shy nature, or it was simply her gentle touch that helped cool his tension. He was still skittish under her hands, but his moments of fear were always shorter when she was the one to remind him of the job they needed to do. When Charlotte arrived by his side in the paddock on the day of that first race, Albus brightened with relief and turned to nuzzle her gratefully.

Any relaxing influence Charlotte had had on Albus was immediately countered when he stepped into the track and took in the crowd. The chill in the air that persisted even in late spring kept away the bulk of the spectators, but there were still more people present than Albus had seen in his life. He rolled his eyes and pressed closer to his lead pony. It seemed like forever until all the horses were in the gate as Charlotte struggled to keep her mount calm and focused. She knew it was losing battle, but refused to give up until the gates burst open. Weeks of schooling had taught Albus not to fear the gate, but his bewilderment that day left him a step behind the other colts, who bolted as though their tails were on fire. Charlotte did her best to focus her horse and persuaded him to settle into a reasonable rhythm at the back of the pack. She knew they needed to be further up if Albus was to stay in contention, but the single turn in the six furlong race was already approaching. Charlotte scowled and took Albus wide, asking him to show the world some speed for the first time. She got little response. Albus listened willingly enough, but, even running unhindered in the middle of the track, he slid off the leaders’ armour like slush and stumbled in fifth. Charlotte brought him back to a trot, her face closed tightly by disappointment. To her surprise he wasn’t breathing hard and even left the track with a bounce in his step, obviously relieved to escape the turmoil.

“What happened?” asked Devin, trainer for Climax Stables, when she met the pair. The stocky woman’s customary glower was darker than ever, and Charlotte immediately snapped into defensive mode.

“He just wasn’t there. There was nothing I could do,” she said. “He was unhappy the whole time, and besides, did you notice the pace out there? When have we known him to go nearly that fast?”

“His owners were hoping for more than this,” Devin grumbled. “They think they can found a line of stakes winners from this colt? The only flashy thing about him is his colour.” She crushed her program in her hands and marched away, leaving Charlotte to run her hands down Albus’ neck in mute consolation.

The day after the race Albus ate normally, but he was even more subdued then usual and seemed to know he had let his connections down somehow. Devin pretended she had forgotten all about the loss, but she watched Albus every morning with narrowed eyes as she tried to find a way to inspire him. He was built to run with long legs and powerful quarters, but his strides were tense and clipped. Even when worked alongside another horse, he refused to stretch out completely. Charlotte tried all the tricks she knew, but eventually Devin told her it was no good. It was time for a new tactic. It took a lot of persuading, but a couple months later Albus made his second start on Woodbine’s turf course. Devin guessed the distance would give him an edge, and after letting him adjust to the turf the difference in his demeanour was astounding.

This time when the gate popped open Albus was quick enough to find a good position on the rail, several lengths behind the hot-headed pacesetters but close enough to stay in contention. Charlotte, once again crouching in the big colt’s saddle, could not help but smile at the easy rhythm in his stride. He was far from the finish line, but it seemed they were over their biggest hurdle and the wind roaring between Albus’ ears sang an enticing challenge. Charlotte loosened her reins early and called out to her mount over the engulfing rumble of hooves. Albus flicked his ears back and rocketed forward to loom behind the guttering front runners, his speed-blurred shadow staining their heels. Charlotte crouched so low that Ablus’ cropped copper mane snapped in her face, and suddenly they were level with the leader, a leggy bay colt who was giving his jockey everything he had. With the long stride bestowed by an extra hand in height, Albus met the furious pace, but the bay held on. For three strides the colts ran step for step, staring each other down, ears pinned so tightly they looked like striking snakes; then Albus heaved a massive breath and backed down. Charlotte’s mouth fell open in disbelief as he checked his stride so completely that two more horses passed them before the finish line and the triumphant bay flew off to win by three lengths.

Once again, the Climax Stables team brought Albus home in biting disappointment. The one kindness was that the bite came from a different beast, and if the one could be successfully conquered than there would be no rest until this one was too. As the summer days shrank away there was no slack in determination, but morning after chilly morning passed with Albus galloping in his familiar way, infinitely willing and determined to please everyone, including the horses he was pitted against. He ran his third race through a veil of drizzle cold enough to halo his breath in the air, but although his newly discovered powerful stride was unchecked by the soggy course, once again he crumbled at the first challenge.

Black storm clouds kept the merest sliver of dawn from Climax Farm’s training track that fateful July morning, but the track was still dry so Devin ordered all the racehorses out early in the hope that they could avoid a downpour. Charlotte Brooks was riding Albus as usual, and he was scheduled to work in company with two other horses. No one expected much from him, but there was a factor that made the exercise a little more interesting: one of those two horses was Albus’ old playmate, Kick Start. She was maturing slowly and had yet to race, but she possessed brilliant speed that would take her far if only it could be harnessed. Tutoring the two year olds would be the older gelding Popular Choice, who was often used to help straighten out young horses.

Kick Start’s coat gleamed like a gold coin even in the murk of the stormy pre-dawn. Her exercise rider and jockey, the young Rachel Hart, gave her the chance to greet Albus before they got to business and the reunion between the two old friends was endearing. After a thorough snuffling Albus was visibly relaxed and stood with his nose at Kick Start’s shoulder as he had done so often as a foal. Kick Start seemed to pay little attention to her loyal follower, but every once in a while she would look back as if to make sure he was still there. They waited happily together until Devin rode up with Popular Choice and his rider close behind.

Popular Choice, known around the stable simply as Sam, started out several lengths ahead of Kick Start and Albus. Rachel, crouched low over Kick Start’s neck, let her filly run freely and whooped happily as they rocketed toward Sam’s rippling black tail. Albus was so much larger than the sprinting filly that he quickly dropped behind, but he was determined not to lose her after they had only just been reunited. He steadily unwound greater and greater speed as they circled the track until his flared nostrils were once again in a comfortable position at Kick Start’s shoulder. As one they bore down Sam, who pinned his ears and held on to his lead. Albus, now running on the inside between his two opponents, ducked away from the challenge in his habitual manner, but this time he nearly collided with Kick Start. The golden filly understood little about racing, but she did know that she wasn’t about to give up, even after being bumped and bluffed. Albus flicked his ears forward to watch as Kick Start took a deep breath and fought on, overtaking Sam as they raced for home. Dirt from both horses’ hooves sprayed across Albus’ once snowy face and he shuddered nervously at the sight of his protector taking off without him, but Sam was now bitterly facing his second opponent with a clear intention of finishing second now that his win was denied. Then, to the shock of everyone watching, gentle Albus heaved a furious snort and plunged ahead, overtaking Sam in move that perfectly replicated what Kick Start had done moments ago. The three thoroughbreds coasted down to a trot in single file, but it was Charlotte who found tears in her eyes as she reached down to pat Albus’ sweaty neck. “Oh, Albus,” she groaned, and burst into delighted laughter as the clouds finally parted and let down a golden-orange ray of dawn.

That August, Albus found himself at Woodbine once again, and everyone from Climax Stables watched anxiously as he ran over the firm turf to settle against the rail. When the pack of maiden colts rounded the far turn, Albus stretched out from his stalking position to overwhelm the weary frontrunners, but just as he drew clear a late closer came down hard on the outside. Two memories battled in Albus’ mind; one of watching other horses stream past, taking advantage of his submission, and the other of running on the heels of a little golden filly until it seemed nothing could catch them. Charlotte’s anxious voice rang in Albus’ ears as the charging closer draw level, his dark hide gleaming with sweat and steam. Albus held his course. People cheered wildly as the finish line whipped past, but for Albus the world was quiet as his opponents’ hoof beats faded behind him.

Albus lingered in the glow of his first victory to snatch his second by a nose in the Grade 3 Summer Stakes, and then he crossed the border to take his place in the gate at the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Turf. He was one of the longest shots in the race, but he was still full of his newfound confidence and chased the leaders down at full force. The other horses’ breeding proved its worth at the finish line, but Albus tried with all his heart and his third place finish was celebrated as though he’d won by lengths.

______________________________

Registered Name: Albus Aureus
Stable Name: Albus
Gender: Colt
Breed: Thoroughbred
Age: 4
Colour: Chestnut sabino
Markings: White face, stockings on all four legs above knees/hocks, white patch on belly
Genotype: ee Aa Sb-
Height: 16.3hh
Sire: Vivace
Dam (damsire): Alpine Song (Rahy)
Best Offspring: N/A
Offspring: None
Disciplines: Flat racing
Race Record: 3/1/2(9)
Lifetime Earnings: $343 000 USD
Major Wins: Summer Stakes G3, Fair Grounds Handicap G3
Ideal Racing Distance: 8-10f
Ideal Racing Surface: Turf
Running Style: Stalker
Owner: Climax Stables
Breeder: Climax Stables
Trainer: Devin Blackburn
Jockey: Charlotte Brooks
Personality: Albus is quiet and shy, but once he comes out of his shell he is playful and energetic, although he is still more serious that other colts. He has to analyse everything with an expression of deep concentration that has had a very endearing effect on the grooms.
History: Bred and raced by Climax Stables
Current Entries: None
Booked Breedings: None
Breeding Status: Unavailable, still racing

Image, text and characters (c) by me, Copperdragon
Indian Corn (c) by ~Muircat
Referenced from [link] (c) by

Description
Ouch...I haven't submitted a deviation for so long that I forgot how. Even, worse, I actually drew this picture in July! But I'm working on a new digital picture now, so *hopefully* I can finish it soon.
This picture shows Albus Aureus at 2 years old and his jockey Charlotte Brooks.
____________________

Albus stood with his nose pressed into his groom’s elbow. The noise of scores of voices chaffed at his ears, and the boiling energy of the other colts burned his sensitive skin. His groom slowly rubbed a hand along the base of his mane, disappointed but unsurprised by the big painted colt’s reaction to his first race day crowd. Albus had been the foal who always hid behind his mother, never harbouring the slightest inclination to explore the vast world he had entered, until the day the golden filly Kick Start pranced up, gave his nose a cursory sniff, and launched into a feisty game of tag. From then on the two of them were constant companions, and Kick Start was never seen without little Albus tagging along. By the time they were yearlings Albus towered over her, but he didn’t seem to realize that when he needed to hide behind someone.

The time inevitably came when the two had to be separated if they were ever going to become racehorses. Albus’s training began slowly as he learned to handle to world without his ‘big sister’ there to lead the way. His first workouts were slow and stumbling as he tried to figure out how to work past his continued growth spurt, and it seemed that every time things began smoothly he found something new that made him spook. The rough road of his progress undulated and backtracked, but eventually he was consistent, if not quite blazing fast, and he was sent out for his first race.

Charlotte Brooks had never ridden in any major races before, but she had worked with horses from Climax Stables for most of her young career as a jockey and something about her reassured Albus. Perhaps it was that she shared his shy nature, or it was simply her gentle touch that helped cool his tension. He was still skittish under her hands, but his moments of fear were always shorter when she was the one to remind him of the job they needed to do. When Charlotte arrived by his side in the paddock on the day of that first race, Albus brightened with relief and turned to nuzzle her gratefully.

Any relaxing influence Charlotte had had on Albus was immediately countered when he stepped into the track and took in the crowd. The chill in the air that persisted even in late spring kept away the bulk of the spectators, but there were still more people present than Albus had seen in his life. He rolled his eyes and pressed closer to his lead pony. It seemed like forever until all the horses were in the gate as Charlotte struggled to keep her mount calm and focused. She knew it was losing battle, but refused to give up until the gates burst open. Weeks of schooling had taught Albus not to fear the gate, but his bewilderment that day left him a step behind the other colts, who bolted as though their tails were on fire. Charlotte did her best to focus her horse and persuaded him to settle into a reasonable rhythm at the back of the pack. She knew they needed to be further up if Albus was to stay in contention, but the single turn in the six furlong race was already approaching. Charlotte scowled and took Albus wide, asking him to show the world some speed for the first time. She got little response. Albus listened willingly enough, but, even running unhindered in the middle of the track, he slid off the leaders’ armour like slush and stumbled in fifth. Charlotte brought him back to a trot, her face closed tightly by disappointment. To her surprise he wasn’t breathing hard and even left the track with a bounce in his step, obviously relieved to escape the turmoil.

“What happened?” asked Devin, trainer for Climax Stables, when she met the pair. The stocky woman’s customary glower was darker than ever, and Charlotte immediately snapped into defensive mode.

“He just wasn’t there. There was nothing I could do,” she said. “He was unhappy the whole time, and besides, did you notice the pace out there? When have we known him to go nearly that fast?”

“His owners were hoping for more than this,” Devin grumbled. “They think they can found a line of stakes winners from this colt? The only flashy thing about him is his colour.” She crushed her program in her hands and marched away, leaving Charlotte to run her hands down Albus’ neck in mute consolation.

The day after the race Albus ate normally, but he was even more subdued then usual and seemed to know he had let his connections down somehow. Devin pretended she had forgotten all about the loss, but she watched Albus every morning with narrowed eyes as she tried to find a way to inspire him. He was built to run with long legs and powerful quarters, but his strides were tense and clipped. Even when worked alongside another horse, he refused to stretch out completely. Charlotte tried all the tricks she knew, but eventually Devin told her it was no good. It was time for a new tactic. It took a lot of persuading, but a couple months later Albus made his second start on Woodbine’s turf course. Devin guessed the distance would give him an edge, and after letting him adjust to the turf the difference in his demeanour was astounding.

This time when the gate popped open Albus was quick enough to find a good position on the rail, several lengths behind the hot-headed pacesetters but close enough to stay in contention. Charlotte, once again crouching in the big colt’s saddle, could not help but smile at the easy rhythm in his stride. He was far from the finish line, but it seemed they were over their biggest hurdle and the wind roaring between Albus’ ears sang an enticing challenge. Charlotte loosened her reins early and called out to her mount over the engulfing rumble of hooves. Albus flicked his ears back and rocketed forward to loom behind the guttering front runners, his speed-blurred shadow staining their heels. Charlotte crouched so low that Ablus’ cropped copper mane snapped in her face, and suddenly they were level with the leader, a leggy bay colt who was giving his jockey everything he had. With the long stride bestowed by an extra hand in height, Albus met the furious pace, but the bay held on. For three strides the colts ran step for step, staring each other down, ears pinned so tightly they looked like striking snakes; then Albus heaved a massive breath and backed down. Charlotte’s mouth fell open in disbelief as he checked his stride so completely that two more horses passed them before the finish line and the triumphant bay flew off to win by three lengths.

Once again, the Climax Stables team brought Albus home in biting disappointment. The one kindness was that the bite came from a different beast, and if the one could be successfully conquered than there would be no rest until this one was too. As the summer days shrank away there was no slack in determination, but morning after chilly morning passed with Albus galloping in his familiar way, infinitely willing and determined to please everyone, including the horses he was pitted against. He ran his third race through a veil of drizzle cold enough to halo his breath in the air, but although his newly discovered powerful stride was unchecked by the soggy course, once again he crumbled at the first challenge.

Black storm clouds kept the merest sliver of dawn from Climax Farm’s training track that fateful July morning, but the track was still dry so Devin ordered all the racehorses out early in the hope that they could avoid a downpour. Charlotte Brooks was riding Albus as usual, and he was scheduled to work in company with two other horses. No one expected much from him, but there was a factor that made the exercise a little more interesting: one of those two horses was Albus’ old playmate, Kick Start. She was maturing slowly and had yet to race, but she possessed brilliant speed that would take her far if only it could be harnessed. Tutoring the two year olds would be the older gelding Popular Choice, who was often used to help straighten out young horses.

Kick Start’s coat gleamed like a gold coin even in the murk of the stormy pre-dawn. Her exercise rider and jockey, the young Rachel Hart, gave her the chance to greet Albus before they got to business and the reunion between the two old friends was endearing. After a thorough snuffling Albus was visibly relaxed and stood with his nose at Kick Start’s shoulder as he had done so often as a foal. Kick Start seemed to pay little attention to her loyal follower, but every once in a while she would look back as if to make sure he was still there. They waited happily together until Devin rode up with Popular Choice and his rider close behind.

Popular Choice, known around the stable simply as Sam, started out several lengths ahead of Kick Start and Albus. Rachel, crouched low over Kick Start’s neck, let her filly run freely and whooped happily as they rocketed toward Sam’s rippling black tail. Albus was so much larger than the sprinting filly that he quickly dropped behind, but he was determined not to lose her after they had only just been reunited. He steadily unwound greater and greater speed as they circled the track until his flared nostrils were once again in a comfortable position at Kick Start’s shoulder. As one they bore down Sam, who pinned his ears and held on to his lead. Albus, now running on the inside between his two opponents, ducked away from the challenge in his habitual manner, but this time he nearly collided with Kick Start. The golden filly understood little about racing, but she did know that she wasn’t about to give up, even after being bumped and bluffed. Albus flicked his ears forward to watch as Kick Start took a deep breath and fought on, overtaking Sam as they raced for home. Dirt from both horses’ hooves sprayed across Albus’ once snowy face and he shuddered nervously at the sight of his protector taking off without him, but Sam was now bitterly facing his second opponent with a clear intention of finishing second now that his win was denied. Then, to the shock of everyone watching, gentle Albus heaved a furious snort and plunged ahead, overtaking Sam in move that perfectly replicated what Kick Start had done moments ago. The three thoroughbreds coasted down to a trot in single file, but it was Charlotte who found tears in her eyes as she reached down to pat Albus’ sweaty neck. “Oh, Albus,” she groaned, and burst into delighted laughter as the clouds finally parted and let down a golden-orange ray of dawn.

That August, Albus found himself at Woodbine once again, and everyone from Climax Stables watched anxiously as he ran over the firm turf to settle against the rail. When the pack of maiden colts rounded the far turn, Albus stretched out from his stalking position to overwhelm the weary frontrunners, but just as he drew clear a late closer came down hard on the outside. Two memories battled in Albus’ mind; one of watching other horses stream past, taking advantage of his submission, and the other of running on the heels of a little golden filly until it seemed nothing could catch them. Charlotte’s anxious voice rang in Albus’ ears as the charging closer draw level, his dark hide gleaming with sweat and steam. Albus held his course. People cheered wildly as the finish line whipped past, but for Albus the world was quiet as his opponents’ hoof beats faded behind him.

Albus lingered in the glow of his first victory to snatch his second by a nose in the Grade 3 Summer Stakes, and then he crossed the border to take his place in the gate at the Breeders’ Cup Juvenile Turf. He was one of the longest shots in the race, but he was still full of his newfound confidence and chased the leaders down at full force. The other horses’ breeding proved its worth at the finish line, but Albus tried with all his heart and his third place finish was celebrated as though he’d won by lengths.

______________________________

Registered Name: Albus Aureus
Stable Name: Albus
Gender: Colt
Breed: Thoroughbred
Age: 4
Colour: Chestnut sabino
Markings: White face, stockings on all four legs above knees/hocks, white patch on belly
Genotype: ee Aa Sb-
Height: 16.3hh
Sire: Vivace
Dam (damsire): Alpine Song (Rahy)
Best Offspring: N/A
Offspring: None
Disciplines: Flat racing
Race Record: 3/1/2(9)
Lifetime Earnings: $343 000 USD
Major Wins: Summer Stakes G3, Fair Grounds Handicap G3
Ideal Racing Distance: 8-10f
Ideal Racing Surface: Turf
Running Style: Stalker
Owner: Climax Stables
Breeder: Climax Stables
Trainer: Devin Blackburn
Jockey: Charlotte Brooks
Personality: Albus is quiet and shy, but once he comes out of his shell he is playful and energetic, although he is still more serious that other colts. He has to analyse everything with an expression of deep concentration that has had a very endearing effect on the grooms.
History: Bred and raced by Climax Stables
Current Entries: None
Booked Breedings: None
Breeding Status: Unavailable, still racing

Image, text and characters (c) by me, Copperdragon
Indian Corn (c) by ~Muircat
Referenced from [link] (c) by