Post by morgana on Nov 20, 2011 2:34:55 GMT -5
El Diablo, Harriet McGrath, Nathan Wallace & Grace Reilly
Transporting El Diablo to the racetrack had been
successful, if not life threatening from time to time. After getting
the black yearling from La Luna's shedrow, tacked and ready for
the workout of the morning, it took both Harriet and Nathan to
get him standing still long enough to get Grace on his back.
"You alright?" Harriet asked the younger British girl. Grace Reilly nodded, gathering El Diablo's reins. With Nathan next to him, the colt snaked his head, teeth bared and his ears glued to his skull, threatening to sink his teeth into Nathan's arm. Nathan flinched away just in time, though knowing reprimanding would only make the colt react violently. The year was almost out and both El Diablo and Azrael would be two year olds and starting their Maiden voyage up until they won their first races. Though neither were getting much face time. In the meantime, both Harriet and Nathan had both decided to work them and get them as much experience as they could. Though Azrael was still inexperienced, and El Diablo was still too dangerous to turn loose on a screaming crowd and a full field of horses.
"We need to get more exercise riders and jockeys," Nathan said, keeping a firm hold on the overly aggressive colt. "Nothing against you, Grace, we just shouldn't be having the same rider on all the horses."
"No worries," Grace said . "Each of these guys have their own personalities."
"If that isn't true," Harriet muttered, eyeing Dee as he fixed a frigid blue-eyed gaze on her. They managed to coax El Diablo into the starting gate. Dee eyed the gate suspiciously, though the moment he seemed to realise that their intention was to put him in the metal box he struggled violently, even as they pushed him into it and shut the gates behind him. He thrashed violently for a few moments and Harriet's heart jumped into her throat.
"Are you alright, Grace?" Nathan called. Grace was murmuring to El Diablo, watching the colt's ears flick to and fro rapidly.
"We're alright," Grace responded, stroking El Diablo's jet black neck. Once seemingly convinced that the Devil, has El Diablo was affectionately known, wasn't going to smash the twenty-three year old girl up against the gate, both Harriet and Nathan went to the railing to watch the colt's workout.
El Diablo broke like a bullet and settled just a ways away from the rail. Harriet couldn't recall if El Diablo had been on the track before and the image of him ricocheting from side to side and veering all over the track terrified her.
"I don't think I can watch," She muttered, shaking her head. Nathan gently ran his hand up and down the younger Irish woman's back, his eyes glued to the pair.
El Diablo displayed mind-boggling speed as he thundered past each furlong. He dug in, his ears plastered against his black skull, nostrils flared. Grace hunkered over his neck, her body moving with the galloping colt. At seven furlongs, Harriet wasn't expecting much. At tops she expected Dee to become frustrated and gear down, but as they watched the stopwatch, they started clocking him at times from :34, :46, :57, and finally roared home and across the seven furlong pole, clocking him at 1:22.
"That couldn't have been a failed timing," Harriet muttered, shaking her head, amazed, looking at Nathan, who handed her the stopwatch, his own eyes widened. Harriet's eyebrows shot up.
"Let me go get him," Nathan said, mounting the dappled grey track pony, a Quarter Horse by the name of Atlas, moving onto the track as Grace stood in the stirrups, pulling the colt up. The yearling wasn't even blowing hard aside from the excitement that pulsed through him. As Nathan and Atlas moved up alongside the cantering yearling, Nathan leaned over and clipped the lead to El Diablo's bridle. Dee turned his head with his ears pinned, threatening Atlas with a facial expression like the yearling was imitating a shark. Atlas, being used to fending off the usual ego-driven aggressions of racers, flattened his ears in return and swung his head at the yearling.
"That was brilliant, Grace!" Harriet said with a broad, excited grin. "That was good enough for a Stakes winner's breeze."
"He was flying!" Grace explained breathlessly, though a smile was apparent on her face as El Diablo tossed his head. They definitely had something on their hands, this they knew. Dee was going to be great.
