Through the Eyes of a Fox Disclaimer: I do not own any form of Zorro.
When he first sees Toronado, he is a mess of sweat, hollow-ribbed and sweating. From over the fence, the young stallion and the man regard each other, blues eyes on brown. The whip stripes weep red trickles across the gleaming black shoulders of the horse. He is barely more than a colt, but he keeps his mares strictly in line, whirling about them, keeping them away from the encircling fences with teeth and hooves. There is a gouged scar on his left flank where an older stallion has marked him. A broken lasso drags from his neck. Beside him, Diego's father whistles through his teeth. "We found them up by the broken ridge, patron," their chief vaquero says, squinting at the mob obscured in whirling dust.
"That one..." Diego stops, laughs, drags a hand through his hair in glee. He senses his father is watching him curiously, but that is only one small part. The rest is all Zorro, who is laughing as only a fox can, with all his teeth. "Now that one is a devil." "Mad, perhaps," sighs Don Alejandro. "I have heard of the black strain in Don Hector's stock. Half his foals are untameable, the rest worse." The scarred colt is too big to be pure Andalusian, and his head is lowered like a bull's. He jogs backwards and forwards between the men and his mares, screaming challenges that send the vaqueros' horses to pawing and rearing with nerves. His father sighs again, calls for his musket. "We cannot allow this one to breed, Diego. You can see the craziness in his eyes." It will hurt his father to kill such a magnificent horse, but he will do it, for the good of the herd. Diego watches as the colt is cut from the mob, bucking and twisting, fighting every inch of the way. That same fighting spirit fills Diego's chest, makes him choke and grasp the fence. He cannot allow it to die. This must be Zorro's horse. There is no other now.
"I shall do it Father," he grinds out, forcing his emotions down, pushing Zorro away. "You have always said I should take a larger interest in your business, rather than bury my nose in books." His father agrees, hands him the musket with a surprised twist of his eyebrows. Diego mounts his quiet, dull gelding, a perfect mount for the quiet, dull, disappointment of a son that he is, and wraps the colt's ropes about his saddle horn. They jog away together, the colt still screaming, ramming his mount until it squeals in terror, rearing and plunging. The colt is beautiful and wild and strong. He cannot keep from smiling his fox's smile. Diego shall hide him in the network of caves on the edge of his father's lands, and Zorro shall ride the black whirlwind by night across California. "Toronado," he murmurs, as the stallion snaps at his gelding's neck, forcing it to jump sideways. "Toronado, Zorro alone shall ride you, I promise."
Author's Note: These shall be a series of short vignettes about Diego de la Vega. I am borrowing and mixing up the characters of Diego de la Vega as he is portrayed in the 1950's Disney version and the 1998 version The Mask of Zorro. Alejandro shall be making appearances. I am very interested in Anthony Hopkin's portrayal of an older, more bitter Zorro, but I can't resist Guy's charm. :) Also, the reason I'm posting it in the TV section is because all the activity seems to be over here, unlike the Mask fandom, and I didn't want it to be a crossover.
Any reviews or concrit will be welcomed.
Thanks, Taluliaka.