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Description
"...You'd be lying on the floor."

Whooaa. Sorry for the novel! o.o I think I got way too carried away.. It's been written for a while, actually. You can skip the crappy novel if you want. Basically just explains why she's kickass, in my I-can't-write-worth-a-shit way, lol.

EDIT: Oh, and as for the reason why she's facing left, well I pictured it being a 'photo' taken from the infield, I guess.

-----

When the dazzling gold filly returned to the races as a 3-year-old, she was a thing of beauty and refinement. Her vibrant, Show-Sheen'ed pelt shimmered like the sun during the paddock inspection, putting all of the other mud-brown bays and chestnuts to shame.
As she was led into the starting gate for her 3-year-old debut, everyone avidly and anxiously wondered if she still had that gusto that she had shown in her 2-year-old days.

Of course, she performed an eloquent display of ass-kicking for her faithful fanbase.

In fact, she won her first G2 Stakes of the season by almost 6 lengths, and seemed to want more as she pranced elegantly in the winner's circle, a cascade of photographers pouring over her queenly features. She was then pushed up to 8.5 furlongs in another G2 race at Oaklawn. Yet again, she delivered the goods like a good girl and ran a beautiful race. Right out of the gate, she broke easily, and let the 3 speedsters set the pace, as she stalked behind them, leading the pack of 6 confidently. As they came out of the far turn, Lilith Rosario onboard clucked twice, and off they went like a dart, hugging the rail tightly and slipping by past the tiring frontrunners and avoiding the looming closers. She sprinted past them all to win by an easy 4½ lengths.

Her next race was even longer, at 9 furlongs. This range seemed to be her favorite. Unfortunately for her, however, the Stakes race was ran on an incredibly muddy day.

Her Highness did not like rain or mud or sloppy tracks.

But her trainer figured they wouldn't scratch over a little rain. How silly would that be?

When being loaded into the starting gate, an auburn colt was making quite the ruckus and hassle at being led it. Once inside, he would buck or break out of the front, delaying the whole field needlessly. Before long, the torrential rains began their downpour and this unnerved the Vanity Fair daughter quite a bit. She reared and crowhopped, tossing her finely chiseled head and squealing at the distasteful weather staining her pristine hide. One of Double Dance's grooms even came running up to her with an umbrella, and perched his arm beside her neck like some sort of lackey umbrella holder, so that she was partially covered from the showers while waiting for the first few horses to be loaded in before her. Even from the starting gate, the jockeys and ponying riders could hear the light chuckling buzzing from the grandstands at the sight of the Princess.
When, at last, everyone was loaded and the bell went off, Covergirl was initially confused. It was her first time running a race on a muddy track, and after the gates swung open, she momentarily swayed in her slot for a fraction of a second, hesitating whether or not to dirty her glossed hooves. With a swift smack of the crop on her rump by Rosario, the buckskin went flying over the sodden soil, eating up the ground to reach the already fading field of runners ahead, her ears pinned tightly against her skull in irate frustration. A bit more dramatization on her part and she'd probably be crying in outrage, if she could.
Every few furlongs, her jockey would pull down her soiled goggles to her neck, in order to use a fresh pair over her eyes. The weather bore down on them mercilessly, and even as she was getting mud splatters kicked up to her from the pack ahead, Covergirl managed to pull a decent fourth place. The staff quickly hosed her down immediately after the race, before even hotwalking her, lest she have a nervous breakdown.

From then on, her trainer knew to always check the weather before entering her in any race.

A month or so after her... traumatic experience, she was put up against a field composed predominantly of boys, in a G1 9 furlong race. This didn't pose as a problem, and she definitely proved herself by winning gracefully.
Not long after, she ran in a G2, and although her caretakers' hopes were increasingly high, she apparently had a bit of an off day, and just didn't perform as well as expected. She was boxed in for the majority of the race, too, and she ended up finishing out of the money in 7th place.
Next, even after this minor setback, she was personally invited to the Haskell, to her owner's delight. However, to Double Dance's dismay, the track wasn't just sloppy, it was soupy, with thick puddles of swampy water tainting the entire track as though they had entered the marshlands of Louisiana. Her Highness's trainer considered scratching, but instead, told Lilith Rosario to push her hard out of the gate and to use the stick if necessary. After all, this was the Invitational. You couldn't just scratch because your filly was acting like a princess, right?

The staff had a world of difficulty simply getting the disdainful filly out of the barn and onto the murky track to load her in the gate. She was surrounded by three grooms, all yielding massive black umbrellas over the buckskin as though she were an empress being escorted to a fancy ball by her throng of servants.
Would you like a red carpet with that, m'lady?

One would think that huge black umbrellas flailing over a fidgety Thoroughbred would only escalate into a state of acute disaster, yet it mildly calmed the puffing daughter of Bite The Bullet. Once led into the gate, she calmed slightly and Rosario coaxed her to relax before the gates flung open.

"And they're off!"

At this moment, Lilith and Covergirl both heard the thunderous roar of stampeding hooves bursting out of the gate and fading away. Yet, Covergirl never left the gate, even as Rosario, dumbfounded, smacked the buckskin's shoulder, then rump, then flank, repeatedly, while cussing, clucking and shouting various colorful profanities. With her ears pinned back sharply, her teeth clenched tightly, her muscles rippling tensely beneath the dampened skin, and her light brown eyes reduced to menacing slits, the 3-year-old didn't budge an inch.
Hell no was she running in that kind of a mess again.

Needless to say, she was DQed. So much for ever getting invited again...
Her trainer then scratched every single race he entered her in that so happened to have a wet track the day of the race.
Thankfully however, her next race was a flaming success. She was back in business, taking the lead in an 8.5 furlong G2, by a head. Her trainer was even confident – or pretentious – enough to enter her in the famed Breeder's Cup Classic. Many wondered bemusedly, well, why the hell the Classic and not something a bit more reasonable like the Ladies' Classic? Her trainer pigheadedly argued that she had whopped the boys' butts enough to secure her title in such a prestigious race, and that was the end of it.

On that faithful Saturday, with everyone holding their breaths as the starting gate burst open loudly, Covergirl broke evenly, but the field of colts was fast. Devilishly so. She was no longer in her preferred stalker position, but rather, lagged behind a wall of horses. She hugged the rail just behind the pack until an opening would materialize in front of her. She was getting clumps of dirt flung in her face, and she didn't approve of that one bit, which resulted in her head being tucked in neatly to her chest. Between the rippling rumps and flailing hooves of two chestnut colts directly in front of her, a small gap eventually began to widen, just enough for a slender little buckskin filly to sneak through.
With a light verbal cue from her jockette (yes, I went there, lmao), Covergirl lengthened her stride effortlessly and dove into the pack of some of the best colts in the world, and began to inch ahead of their bobbing heads. She soon left the throng of males, and the open track unfurled ahead of her. She perked her ears up and skipped merrily towards the finish line, without a care in the world anymore. With less than 2 furlongs to go, however, Lilith Rosario heard a familiar noise coming from behind them, and so did Covergirl, swiveling her ears back again.
The thudding of approaching hoofbeats. Never good. As Lilith ducked her head below her elbow to see the potential threat, she noticed it to be the horse that her trainer had told her to watch out for, now coming to seek revenge.

"And here comes the strong favorite, Ouragan, closing in on Covergirl!" wailed the announcer hysterically, the frenetic crowd drowning his booming voice with their frenzied cheers and cries.

The staggering black colt was an infamous deep closer, and he didn't seem to want to give up the $5,000,000 purse to a sissy girl. Barreling towards the filly like a runaway freight train, he mercilessly closed in on her within a couple of earth-devouring strides, and after the duo crossed the wire as one, he zoomed past the buckskin like a shot, having reached his peak velocity. As she pulled up her horse, Lilith looked up to the tote board flashing the results, to see who had stolen the photo finish. She was fairly certain the black's sweeping stride had vanquished her and her filly, yet it took a little while before the suspense was up and the officials had determined who had won. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bigmouthed announcer bellowed over the speakers that the gold female had beaten the odds and won the Classic. In the fraction of a second before the ebon colt had extended his neck for his final stride, Covergirl had already extended hers to her maximum, luckily, and she miraculously won by barely a hair. But it was a hair that everyone at Double Dance was fist-pumpingly thrilled about. The Bullet Girl had done her namesake proud, and girl power was hanging heavily in the air above the barns that night.

Her trainer later announced that Covergirl deserved a good rest, and would only return to the racetracks as a 4-year-old. Potentially as her final year of racing. Or was that only a publicity stunt?

-----

Registered Name: DD Covergirl
Barn Name: Her Highness; Princess; sometimes called "Bullet Girl" (by the press. Bullet Boy anyone? <3)
Gender: Filly
D.O.B.: January 8th
Breed: Thoroughbred
Sire & Dam: DD Bite The Bullet x Vanity Fair
Phenotype: Buckskin with small "exploding" star between the eyes that dips into a bit of a stripe. Also has RF ermine spots and RH sock.
Eyes: Light brown
Genotype: Ee/Aa/nCr
Height: 16.1hh
Build: Refined, but still a bit more big-boned than her full brother, DD Gold Bullet, who's swan-like. She's fairly compact and a little stocky, too.
Breeder/Owner/trainer : *Hazel-rah of Double Dance .
Temperament: Vain, easily disgusted, drama queen, acts like royalty, distinguished, has major issues on getting dirty. We're not sure how she'll fare on a muddy track... o.o And, no, she does not roll. Rolling is for mongrels, you see.
Discipline(s): Track (flat) racing
Main jockey: Lilith Rosario
Ideal Distance/Turf/Running Style: 8-9F/dirt/stalker (doesn't like mud)
Race record so far:
2yo : 6 (3/1/1)
3yo : 8 (5/0/0)
Lifetime: 14 (8/1/1)
Earnings: $3,598,700.
Offspring: N/A
Availability: Pure, realistic TBs only please. Currently unavailable for private leases.

Art & character © *Hazel-rah
#HorseArt-RPG concept © *moonfeather
Many thanks, as usual, go to ~idlewild202 for letting me breed to her brood to get this result (and Gold Bullet, lol), and initially helping me out with the name and color ideas!

Description
"...You'd be lying on the floor."

Whooaa. Sorry for the novel! o.o I think I got way too carried away.. It's been written for a while, actually. You can skip the crappy novel if you want. Basically just explains why she's kickass, in my I-can't-write-worth-a-shit way, lol.

EDIT: Oh, and as for the reason why she's facing left, well I pictured it being a 'photo' taken from the infield, I guess.

-----

When the dazzling gold filly returned to the races as a 3-year-old, she was a thing of beauty and refinement. Her vibrant, Show-Sheen'ed pelt shimmered like the sun during the paddock inspection, putting all of the other mud-brown bays and chestnuts to shame.
As she was led into the starting gate for her 3-year-old debut, everyone avidly and anxiously wondered if she still had that gusto that she had shown in her 2-year-old days.

Of course, she performed an eloquent display of ass-kicking for her faithful fanbase.

In fact, she won her first G2 Stakes of the season by almost 6 lengths, and seemed to want more as she pranced elegantly in the winner's circle, a cascade of photographers pouring over her queenly features. She was then pushed up to 8.5 furlongs in another G2 race at Oaklawn. Yet again, she delivered the goods like a good girl and ran a beautiful race. Right out of the gate, she broke easily, and let the 3 speedsters set the pace, as she stalked behind them, leading the pack of 6 confidently. As they came out of the far turn, Lilith Rosario onboard clucked twice, and off they went like a dart, hugging the rail tightly and slipping by past the tiring frontrunners and avoiding the looming closers. She sprinted past them all to win by an easy 4½ lengths.

Her next race was even longer, at 9 furlongs. This range seemed to be her favorite. Unfortunately for her, however, the Stakes race was ran on an incredibly muddy day.

Her Highness did not like rain or mud or sloppy tracks.

But her trainer figured they wouldn't scratch over a little rain. How silly would that be?

When being loaded into the starting gate, an auburn colt was making quite the ruckus and hassle at being led it. Once inside, he would buck or break out of the front, delaying the whole field needlessly. Before long, the torrential rains began their downpour and this unnerved the Vanity Fair daughter quite a bit. She reared and crowhopped, tossing her finely chiseled head and squealing at the distasteful weather staining her pristine hide. One of Double Dance's grooms even came running up to her with an umbrella, and perched his arm beside her neck like some sort of lackey umbrella holder, so that she was partially covered from the showers while waiting for the first few horses to be loaded in before her. Even from the starting gate, the jockeys and ponying riders could hear the light chuckling buzzing from the grandstands at the sight of the Princess.
When, at last, everyone was loaded and the bell went off, Covergirl was initially confused. It was her first time running a race on a muddy track, and after the gates swung open, she momentarily swayed in her slot for a fraction of a second, hesitating whether or not to dirty her glossed hooves. With a swift smack of the crop on her rump by Rosario, the buckskin went flying over the sodden soil, eating up the ground to reach the already fading field of runners ahead, her ears pinned tightly against her skull in irate frustration. A bit more dramatization on her part and she'd probably be crying in outrage, if she could.
Every few furlongs, her jockey would pull down her soiled goggles to her neck, in order to use a fresh pair over her eyes. The weather bore down on them mercilessly, and even as she was getting mud splatters kicked up to her from the pack ahead, Covergirl managed to pull a decent fourth place. The staff quickly hosed her down immediately after the race, before even hotwalking her, lest she have a nervous breakdown.

From then on, her trainer knew to always check the weather before entering her in any race.

A month or so after her... traumatic experience, she was put up against a field composed predominantly of boys, in a G1 9 furlong race. This didn't pose as a problem, and she definitely proved herself by winning gracefully.
Not long after, she ran in a G2, and although her caretakers' hopes were increasingly high, she apparently had a bit of an off day, and just didn't perform as well as expected. She was boxed in for the majority of the race, too, and she ended up finishing out of the money in 7th place.
Next, even after this minor setback, she was personally invited to the Haskell, to her owner's delight. However, to Double Dance's dismay, the track wasn't just sloppy, it was soupy, with thick puddles of swampy water tainting the entire track as though they had entered the marshlands of Louisiana. Her Highness's trainer considered scratching, but instead, told Lilith Rosario to push her hard out of the gate and to use the stick if necessary. After all, this was the Invitational. You couldn't just scratch because your filly was acting like a princess, right?

The staff had a world of difficulty simply getting the disdainful filly out of the barn and onto the murky track to load her in the gate. She was surrounded by three grooms, all yielding massive black umbrellas over the buckskin as though she were an empress being escorted to a fancy ball by her throng of servants.
Would you like a red carpet with that, m'lady?

One would think that huge black umbrellas flailing over a fidgety Thoroughbred would only escalate into a state of acute disaster, yet it mildly calmed the puffing daughter of Bite The Bullet. Once led into the gate, she calmed slightly and Rosario coaxed her to relax before the gates flung open.

"And they're off!"

At this moment, Lilith and Covergirl both heard the thunderous roar of stampeding hooves bursting out of the gate and fading away. Yet, Covergirl never left the gate, even as Rosario, dumbfounded, smacked the buckskin's shoulder, then rump, then flank, repeatedly, while cussing, clucking and shouting various colorful profanities. With her ears pinned back sharply, her teeth clenched tightly, her muscles rippling tensely beneath the dampened skin, and her light brown eyes reduced to menacing slits, the 3-year-old didn't budge an inch.
Hell no was she running in that kind of a mess again.

Needless to say, she was DQed. So much for ever getting invited again...
Her trainer then scratched every single race he entered her in that so happened to have a wet track the day of the race.
Thankfully however, her next race was a flaming success. She was back in business, taking the lead in an 8.5 furlong G2, by a head. Her trainer was even confident – or pretentious – enough to enter her in the famed Breeder's Cup Classic. Many wondered bemusedly, well, why the hell the Classic and not something a bit more reasonable like the Ladies' Classic? Her trainer pigheadedly argued that she had whopped the boys' butts enough to secure her title in such a prestigious race, and that was the end of it.

On that faithful Saturday, with everyone holding their breaths as the starting gate burst open loudly, Covergirl broke evenly, but the field of colts was fast. Devilishly so. She was no longer in her preferred stalker position, but rather, lagged behind a wall of horses. She hugged the rail just behind the pack until an opening would materialize in front of her. She was getting clumps of dirt flung in her face, and she didn't approve of that one bit, which resulted in her head being tucked in neatly to her chest. Between the rippling rumps and flailing hooves of two chestnut colts directly in front of her, a small gap eventually began to widen, just enough for a slender little buckskin filly to sneak through.
With a light verbal cue from her jockette (yes, I went there, lmao), Covergirl lengthened her stride effortlessly and dove into the pack of some of the best colts in the world, and began to inch ahead of their bobbing heads. She soon left the throng of males, and the open track unfurled ahead of her. She perked her ears up and skipped merrily towards the finish line, without a care in the world anymore. With less than 2 furlongs to go, however, Lilith Rosario heard a familiar noise coming from behind them, and so did Covergirl, swiveling her ears back again.
The thudding of approaching hoofbeats. Never good. As Lilith ducked her head below her elbow to see the potential threat, she noticed it to be the horse that her trainer had told her to watch out for, now coming to seek revenge.

"And here comes the strong favorite, Ouragan, closing in on Covergirl!" wailed the announcer hysterically, the frenetic crowd drowning his booming voice with their frenzied cheers and cries.

The staggering black colt was an infamous deep closer, and he didn't seem to want to give up the $5,000,000 purse to a sissy girl. Barreling towards the filly like a runaway freight train, he mercilessly closed in on her within a couple of earth-devouring strides, and after the duo crossed the wire as one, he zoomed past the buckskin like a shot, having reached his peak velocity. As she pulled up her horse, Lilith looked up to the tote board flashing the results, to see who had stolen the photo finish. She was fairly certain the black's sweeping stride had vanquished her and her filly, yet it took a little while before the suspense was up and the officials had determined who had won. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bigmouthed announcer bellowed over the speakers that the gold female had beaten the odds and won the Classic. In the fraction of a second before the ebon colt had extended his neck for his final stride, Covergirl had already extended hers to her maximum, luckily, and she miraculously won by barely a hair. But it was a hair that everyone at Double Dance was fist-pumpingly thrilled about. The Bullet Girl had done her namesake proud, and girl power was hanging heavily in the air above the barns that night.

Her trainer later announced that Covergirl deserved a good rest, and would only return to the racetracks as a 4-year-old. Potentially as her final year of racing. Or was that only a publicity stunt?

-----

Registered Name: DD Covergirl
Barn Name: Her Highness; Princess; sometimes called "Bullet Girl" (by the press. Bullet Boy anyone? <3)
Gender: Filly
D.O.B.: January 8th
Breed: Thoroughbred
Sire & Dam: DD Bite The Bullet x Vanity Fair
Phenotype: Buckskin with small "exploding" star between the eyes that dips into a bit of a stripe. Also has RF ermine spots and RH sock.
Eyes: Light brown
Genotype: Ee/Aa/nCr
Height: 16.1hh
Build: Refined, but still a bit more big-boned than her full brother, DD Gold Bullet, who's swan-like. She's fairly compact and a little stocky, too.
Breeder/Owner/trainer : *Hazel-rah of Double Dance .
Temperament: Vain, easily disgusted, drama queen, acts like royalty, distinguished, has major issues on getting dirty. We're not sure how she'll fare on a muddy track... o.o And, no, she does not roll. Rolling is for mongrels, you see.
Discipline(s): Track (flat) racing
Main jockey: Lilith Rosario
Ideal Distance/Turf/Running Style: 8-9F/dirt/stalker (doesn't like mud)
Race record so far:
2yo : 6 (3/1/1)
3yo : 8 (5/0/0)
Lifetime: 14 (8/1/1)
Earnings: $3,598,700.
Offspring: N/A
Availability: Pure, realistic TBs only please. Currently unavailable for private leases.

Art & character © *Hazel-rah
#HorseArt-RPG concept © *moonfeather
Many thanks, as usual, go to ~idlewild202 for letting me breed to her brood to get this result (and Gold Bullet, lol), and initially helping me out with the name and color ideas!