—
To his surprise, she looked like she was at least considering what he said before turning him down. Neither could he argue with her reasoning, he thought as he also watched the passing pair pick up their pace a little as they ambled away.
“Good thing the grass is free and it’s spring, eh?” He knew what those seasons were like. Caspian had never lived like the horses in the capitol, sleeping in sheets and feeding on honey-oat mash and blackberry scones; except for winter, he could fare for himself. Money didn’t mean food but influence, and he didn’t have nearly enough of that. He watched another gaggle of horses go past, and nickered at a one of them, a chestnut with a charming heart-shaped snip she giggled and turned away and Caspian shook his head, looking back at the blue-eyed peddler. “I’d offer to do the selling but I keep busy enough as it is.” Enough so, anyway, that he didn’t want to keep making the hours-long trek to the city daily.
For a moment he was quiet, watching her readjust necklaces and bracelets, not fighting the curiosity that still rose in him like water in a tide pool. When she said you’re smart, he looked up, ready to laugh or retort, but only tilted his head when she continued. He ended up grinning, thinking of the mean old ponies he knew - cranky vicious thieves, smugglers, and rum-runners who’d happily drown them if they didn’t need him. “Plenty, but I generally prefer to do my own work.” Well, with the help of his partner - but his companionship with Benvolio was not widely divulged information, and Caspian liked it that way. “Just thought I’d make a friendly offer to a new face.” If he was hoping she’d take this opportunity to reveal more about herself, he didn’t show it; instead his gaze dropped back to the table.
He motioned to a spiraling turret shell of swirling shades of indigo and violet and rich ivory, strung on a thin cord of braided hemp. “I’ll take that one.” From a small leather satchel he withdrew a worn pair of signs and set them down. “Such unique color! I’ve never seen its like,” he said, loudly enough that a couple of young mares nearby turned with interest. Caspian lifted a brow and smiled at the stranger before slipping the necklace over his head, the curl of the shell cool against his throat. “See you around.” As he turned to go, the paint nodded at the horses now approaching the table, stepped beyond them and continued through the marketplace, beginning to whistle.
@Saphira
“Good thing the grass is free and it’s spring, eh?” He knew what those seasons were like. Caspian had never lived like the horses in the capitol, sleeping in sheets and feeding on honey-oat mash and blackberry scones; except for winter, he could fare for himself. Money didn’t mean food but influence, and he didn’t have nearly enough of that. He watched another gaggle of horses go past, and nickered at a one of them, a chestnut with a charming heart-shaped snip she giggled and turned away and Caspian shook his head, looking back at the blue-eyed peddler. “I’d offer to do the selling but I keep busy enough as it is.” Enough so, anyway, that he didn’t want to keep making the hours-long trek to the city daily.
For a moment he was quiet, watching her readjust necklaces and bracelets, not fighting the curiosity that still rose in him like water in a tide pool. When she said you’re smart, he looked up, ready to laugh or retort, but only tilted his head when she continued. He ended up grinning, thinking of the mean old ponies he knew - cranky vicious thieves, smugglers, and rum-runners who’d happily drown them if they didn’t need him. “Plenty, but I generally prefer to do my own work.” Well, with the help of his partner - but his companionship with Benvolio was not widely divulged information, and Caspian liked it that way. “Just thought I’d make a friendly offer to a new face.” If he was hoping she’d take this opportunity to reveal more about herself, he didn’t show it; instead his gaze dropped back to the table.
He motioned to a spiraling turret shell of swirling shades of indigo and violet and rich ivory, strung on a thin cord of braided hemp. “I’ll take that one.” From a small leather satchel he withdrew a worn pair of signs and set them down. “Such unique color! I’ve never seen its like,” he said, loudly enough that a couple of young mares nearby turned with interest. Caspian lifted a brow and smiled at the stranger before slipping the necklace over his head, the curl of the shell cool against his throat. “See you around.” As he turned to go, the paint nodded at the horses now approaching the table, stepped beyond them and continued through the marketplace, beginning to whistle.
@Saphira
