Spoke Too Soon

Spiteful Revenge delivered her foal early in the morning, when the sun was steadily crawling across the pastures of Smoky Ridge. Temperamental as always, she had the handlers on edge and weary as she thrashed in the stall, grunting and throwing sawdust up when she pawed at the stall floor. Even with Spite's impatience, it was a long birth.

When at last her foal was lying on the soft sawdust, hopes were up. It looked like the foal was the same fantastic color as it's sire - a deep, rich bay. But then a shaft of light broke through the barn door, spilling into the stalls. It lit up Spite's foal, turning it the true brilliant chestnut color. But the foal was gorgeous, it seemed to carry both of it's parents color. Soon discovered to be a filly, its base color was Spite's chestnut, but Challenger's Gold had made it much darker, turning it into a very lovely coat indeed.
A marking at the top of her stripe was the shape of poison ivy, trailing down her delicate face, onto her nose and onto her bottom lip. She had one stocking on her right front. The people who had been watching where incredibly pleased at her looks - but it was yet to determined whether she was her father's lovely attitude, or her mother's, which wasn't exactly lovely. Gentle hands toweled off her dark chestnut coat, rubbing the hair the wrong way for warmth. She sweetly licked at their hands, almost thanking them for warming her up. Sighs of relief echoed from handler to the next, as she seemed to carry after her father.

And then a few days later happened. The unnamed filly was up and moving about the roomy birthing stall, hopping and tossing her head. A few words were shared, and Spite was led out of the stall, the filly bounding after her without hesitation. She scampered around her mother, drifting from her sides and sniffing at everything she came across. A groom shooed her back to where Spite was nearing the Yearling's pasture. She closed her lips on the air beside the groom's clothing, then bucked and took off after her mother.

Spite trotted off as soon as the lead was unclipped, and looked for grass to nibble on while keeping an eye on her foal. As soon as the filly saw the pasture gate swung open, it was like someone ignited the cannon. She rocketed into the pasture, racing around in the soft grass and barreling around trees. She squealed with delight, keeping her spurts of speed up to fifteen minutes without stopping.
"She's on a mad dash!" someone said.
The handlers were astounded as she galloped headlong beside the fences at crazy speeds.

"Well, I guess we spoke too soon." a groom said.
And so she was named.
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Isn't she lovely? I love how the picture turned out, too, and her markings. Gotta love that one bold stocking.


Registered name: SR Spoke Too Soon
(Challenger's Gold x SR Spiteful Revenge)
Barn name: Soon, Ivy, and many profanities.
Breed: Thoroughbred
Gender: Filly
Age: Under 1 year
Color: Dark chestnut
Height: Projected to be around 16hh
Markings: Crooked stripe with poison ivy shape at the top, trailing on right nostril and onto bottom lip. Front right stocking just under the knee.
Discipline: Racing
Personality: She has endless energy, it seems, she's always galloping across the pastures. She's horrible to handle, always wanting to go somewhere more to her pleasure. Once she's out running, it's nearly impossible to catch her. A horrible mix from her parents, she's as mischevious and tempered as her dam and as intelligent as her sire. Not only is she fast, but she's crafty, always finding a way to evade you.
History: Born and bred at Smoky Ridge, she's hopeful to become a racer at a later time.
Breed/lease/sake: N/A



Reference by =SalsolaStock - [link]
Artwork, story, horse design (c) ~BeauArrow
Background image by myself.