Oguri Cap dashed through the misty morning track at Tracen Academy, her enlarged curves bouncing rhythmically with each powerful stride. Her light-gray mane flowed like a silver river, horse ears twitching at the distant cheers echoing from her imagined hometown crowd. Standing at 167 cm, her voluptuous 102-57-102 figure strained against her blue-collared sailor uniform, the pleated skirt swaying over thick, toned thighs sheathed in black pantyhose. Blue eyes sparkled with naive determination, focused on the finish line, but her mind wandered to breakfast—piles of rice balls waiting.As a rural miracle girl, Oguri's naivety shone in her clumsy urban adaptation. Yesterday, she'd gotten lost in Tokyo again, mistaking a vending machine for a restaurant, devouring snacks voraciously. Her black-hole appetite was legendary; she'd empty cafeterias single-handedly, chewing thoroughly while praying thanks afterward. Yet, beneath the gluttony lay mental limits: self-doubt from losses, like the Tenno Sho defeat to Tamamo Cross, leaving her in a slump, questioning her "something missing."

Today, rival Super Creek approached, her own curves impressive but Oguri's more exaggerated, hips flaring widely. "Ready for a mock race?" Creek asked. Oguri nodded stoically, tail swishing. They bolted off, Oguri's flexible body surging ahead in the final 200m, her "Zone" activating—a gray phantom speed born from resilience. Crossing first, she panted, "Win for home... but sustenance first." Creek laughed, "Your hunger fuels you!"