Tourist Challenge 4 -- Sophie Weaver
My tourist character, little Sophie, made a friend with @captain-asexual‘s Oshea Bray (and Hubble). Further thanks to Myssi for helping me develop Sophie! She’s a sassy little mainlander who the island is slowly but surely getting its hooks into. She’s 10 years old, but will likely tell you she’s 11. RP under the cut! ( @thescorpioracesfestival)
We didn’t actually finish this one until the festival was over, whoops! But I’m hoping to do more with Sophie and Kenneth and Evelyn -- if anyone else would like to RP, message me!
Her father is off talking business, which, for all her father's attempts to school her in it, are completely and utterly boring, so Sophie let Mr. Weaver alone to talk big talk with other Mister So-and-So's. It's not the first time Sophie's wandered off on her own, and won't be the last. She's considered taking off for the cliffs, but as she makes her way through town her attention is caught on the strangest looking horse.
Sophie moves closer until she can properly study the thing, then tips her body a bit to see the man nearby who looks like his owner.
"Oy," the girl asks. "Why's yer horse's ears so big?" She also really wanted to touch them, but she wasn't stupid.
Oshea hadn't expected to run out of eggs, but he had. Which is why he found himself on the streets of Thisby, Hubble tied to a remarkably well placed hitching post while he was buying eggs from a local market vendor. He wasn't entirely sure if the eggs were actually chicken eggs or eggs from seagulls on the cliffs, but either way he wasn't going to complain. Protein was protein, just like coffee was coffee.
He takes a swig of black coffee from his thermos as he walks back to the mule, wondering how exactly he was gonna fit the fragile things back in his saddlebags and get them home without them cracking. He supposed he could take his jacket off and pack them, considering his arms were thoroughly bandaged from Troll's consistent attacks on his forearms.
He shrugged the jacket off, balancing the thermos on his saddle as he stuff the jacket into the bag, placing the egg carton carefully on it. Before he can start packing the jacket around it, however, a voice interrupts him, and Hubble cranes his neck, almost upsetting his thermos before he can catch it.
He walks out from behind Hubble, and is greeted by the sight of a small girl, who looks like she very much wants to pat the mule, but is smart enough not to. He chuckles at her.
"Because he's not a horse, miss." He answers, crouching down so he's not towering above her, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting. "He's a mule - his daddy was a donkey, and his momma was a horse. Specifically, she was a crossbred mare. Part thoroughbred, part quarter horse.”
Sophie sticks her chin up and does her best to stand up as straight as possible as the man crouches down to meet her -- a simultaneously appreciated but insulting gesture. Regardless, she's used to being around adults. More than kids her own age, at least. Her eyes dart up to his hat as he tips it.
"Oh." She nods decisively, as she's seen her father do, because she thinks it looks very adult. His answer made sense -- now that he said it. "But," she made a face, nose scrunched up. "Why would anyone want to cross a donkey and a horse?" She took in the sight of the saddle and the dressings on the man's arms. So, you could ride mule's, at least. "Did he give you those?" Maybe they were like capaill. Things you weren't really supposed to mess with, but did anyway.
Oshea stands up, patting Hubble's shoulder affectionally. Hubble huffs at the little girl, his bog satellite ears rotating toward Oshea before fully focusing on Sophie, his big brown eyes soft as his juts his nose out at her and gives a gentle whuff of air.
"Well, donkeys are actually considered tougher than horses in many ways. Their feet are stronger and harder, so they handle rough terrain better, and they can go longer without water. They can haul heavier loads as well, but they aren't as suitable to riding. A lot of people consider them smarter than horses as well. So when you breed a donkey to a horse, you get an animal that has the qualities you'd like from the donkey, but grows to be the size of a horse. They also make the same sound as donkeys, and actually scare off predators." He rubs his hand on Hubble's neck at the next question. "No, he doesn't bite. You can pet him if you'd like, he loves to make friends. His name is Hubble. No, I got bit by my Capaill, she's a bit of a devil."
Her eyes dart back to the mule as his attention shifts to her. She smiles at him and tips her chin to puff a breath of hair through her nose back at him.
"Okay," she says, because she's not sure what else to say to that information, and she doesn't want to say 'oh' again. It's interesting, she learned something new, and she'll definitely be telling her father of it over dinner, but she's learned that looking unimpressed usually impresses people more than looking too interested.
But then the man gives her the real thing she wants, and she brightens, lips widening to show her teeth, and she eagerly goes to rub Hubble's velvety nose. She slides her hand up and down his head, rubs between his eyes, and tries to see if he'll lean down far enough for her to get at his ears.
"Hi Hubble, I'm Sophie," she murmurs, because she's not lost the habit of talking to animals, as much as she tries to avoid it around some people. She shifts her focus a little to address the man. "Sophie Weaver." She pauses a moment, then shoves out her hand to shake.
At the mention of a water horse, she brightens and gets a mischievous glint in her eyes, lips angled in something closer to a smirk then a smile -- expectant and excited. "You got a capaill uisce? You ridin' this year?”
Hubble sighs, licking his lips as he drops his head so she can reach the base of his forelock, his eyes drooping so they're half-lidded. Oshea grins at the normally highly opinionated and rarely affectionate mule, shaking his head a bit. Such a pushover for children.
Oshea takes the girl's offered hand, grasping it firmly but gently and noticing how his palm seemed to dwarf her little hand. "Oshea Bray," he replies with a smile.
He straightens up again, taking a swig of coffee. "Well, she hasn't killed me yet, so I'm riding until she does." Briefly, he wondered if he should be concerned with the fact he was talking about the possibility of his own death with a girl who couldn't be old enough to be a teenager yet.
Sophie grins as Hubble leans down into her touch, and rubs her knuckles in circles between his eyes, fiddles with his forelock, then scratches at his poll, slowly working her way to reach up to the base of his soft, large ears. After shaking hands, Sophie's notably smaller but that's not unusual either (she's started trying to shake hands with everyone her father talks to), it frees up her other hand to pet Hubble too.
"Good to meet ya, Oshea." She gives him another firm nod, though her attempts at an adult aura are hampered by her girlish grin amd the way she's on her toes, stretched up to get her hands on the mule's ears.
"Papa says he'll get me one when I turn sixteen," she says conversationally, like they're not talking about horse creatures known to maim and kill. "I told 'im I'll catch me one before then."
At her words, an images flash through Oshea's mind; Troll, standing over the mangled body of a seal, ugly and wild. Crow, rearing against an iron bit, straining for the sea and leaving Nolan motionless on the sand as he tries to answer the song of Scorpio. Troll craning her head to try and latch onto his leg as he's mounted on her, her blue eye boring into him.
Sophie was so young, so small, and she had already heard the siren song the Capaill sang, and she was ready to answer. It broke the man's heart, but he refused to let it shatter. He grinned at her, quirking up one of his eyebrows.
"Well, you're a smart young lady then. The traders only sell the killers, so catching one is your best bet. You know how ride already?”
"Yessir I do. I like jumping best." She tipped her chin up, and finally got a good angle to stroke the length of Hubble's ear. "Never ridden a water horse, though. Yet. How'd you catch yours?”
Oshea nods at her seriously. "I used to jump too, I loved it. Hubble here competed in eventing up to beginner novice, and he did show jumpers too. He competed in the 3'3 classes." He stroked the mule's shoulder thoughtfully. "If you want to, and as long as you wear a helmet, you can come jump him sometime."
At her next question he gave a cocky grin, and reacher over Hubble's back to take his lasso off his saddle, showing the coiled rope to her. "I caught her in the morning, before sunrise, eating a dead seal. I rode up to her on Hubble and roped her."
Sophie blinked and looked at the mule in a new light. Such a strange thing, not truly one thing or another, yet having competed in shows and competition along any other. She stroked down Hubble's neck and patted it, murmuring to the mule, "Good job."
Then she cast Oshea an excited look. "Yes!" Busy times like these, her lessons and riding took a backseat to everything else her father had to deal with. Also, she really wanted to see the difference in a mule herself. Her father would surely be impressed. Or maybe just amused. Something, at least.
Her hazel eyes grew wide as Oshea told of his capture. "You just rode up to her? And roped her? No more tricks than that?"
"Well then little lasy, you can find me at Malvern's Yard in one of the back paddocks, out by the cliffs. I keep my Capall there, and Hubble. I'll have some jumps set up by the end of this afternoon." He offers the kid an easy smile, before shrugging at her next question. "Am I supposed to use more tricks? I already used a rope and a mule, what else am I supposed to use - magic?"
"Hear that, Hubble," Sophie leaned back to grin at the mule, playing with his whiskers and rubbing her fingernails into the grit of his beard. "We'll get to have some fun." Belatedly, she offered Oshea a smile as well.
Then, she rolled her eyes and nodded. "Papa says the water horses have sea magic, and to really, really be good with 'em, you gotta use sea magic right back on 'em. Things like--" she scrunched up her nose. "... i 'unno. Powerful numbers. Like in fairy tails. I heard they don't like iron. I know the way to distract and trap fairies is to throw salt or sugar, 'cause then they gotta count all the grains. Papa says it's a cump... compulsion. But I don't think that'd work on capaill uisce. Salt would probably make 'em meaner. Also, I don't think they can count.”
Oshea scratches his chin in thought, seeming to consider Sophie's words. "Well, I got a friend who used iron on his stud the first day of training, and the horse nearly dragged him to the sea - I think you're right on the iron. And I wrap Troll's halter with seaweed and weave it in her mane, and soak her boots in seawater before training her. She does nip a lot, but I haven't really had much of an issue."
He shrugs a bit, thinking back over his training. "I also lunged her hard in the sea and let her rest away from it. If she wants the sea, she's going to have to work hard for it. I'm not ever going to break it's hold on her, but I've tried my best."
"Do you think they get dried out? Like washed up whales do? I mean, we know they can survive, but you think one of the reasons they get so sea-sour isn't just that it's their home, but it also hurts them a bit to be away from it? When my face and hands get chapped, I can still live, but I'm pretty miserable. Maybe their entire body feels chapped." She rambled a bit, considering, head tilted and eyes darting up in thought then back over to consider Oshea.
She nodded. "That make sense. You sound more prepared than some of the other riders over the years."
Oshea shrugs a bit. "It would make sense. They are a bit like horse shaped sharks in some ways. Maybe if people would stop trying to keep them away from the sea, and worked with them using the sea as a reward, so many people wouldn't die." His mind whirls, trying to figure out a way to use his own words and ideas in his current training plans.
At her next words he laughs, full and hearty. "I've been on too many horses to not realize that I could very easily die on that beach. It's stupid to think you can tame a capall, and ever stupider to climb on their back thinking so. Once you realize you're prey, no matter where you are around them, you get very, very humbled."
Sophie nodded, brows raised a bit as if to say duh. A toothy smile pulled at her lips as she made him laugh, and she gave Hubble another rub to his muzzle. Her expression tightened some as he spoke, however, as "humble" was still a concept the young girl struggled with. "Horses can kill you without meaning to. But I guess capaill would mean to. But if you're humble, how are you gonna fight against that? You need to show 'em you can be bigger and better, even if you aren't..." Her face scrunched up again, and she looked to Oshea questioningly. The girl was used to handling herself around animals several times her size and strength, but there was a difference between bossing around a grass eater and trying to tell a meat eater what to do.
"Papa doesn't let me get close." She gave a half shrug. "When he's watching me, at least."
"But that's the thing, Sophie." Oshea said, holding up a hand to pause her words. "The moment you think that you can bully any horse into doing what you want is the moment you're going to get hurt. Horses are stronger than you in every way, don't ever think you can make them do what you want."
He nods seriously. "Well, I do hope that you'll be telling your dad about coming to jump Hubble. I can't really let you otherwise. And if he doesn't want you around Capaill, I can't let you around Troll."
Sophie pouted, scrunching up a little with her shoulders at being told off, as good advice as it was. "But that's what people do. They catch and train all kinds of horses to do all kinds of things."
She sighed. "Yeah..." She dug her heal into the dirt, ground it down. Adults. "I'll tell 'im. Should be fine since you're a trainer. 'n I won't get real close..."
Oshea nods to the girl with a smile, reaching forward to untie Hubble's lead from where it's knotted and taking off the halter, which is over the bridle on Hubble's head.. Hubble chews his bit, reaching his nose down for a last pat.
"I hope to see you soon, Miss Sophie." He tips his cowboy hat at her, then swings aboard the mule.
Sophie steps back enough to let Oshea access Hubble's head, then happily gives the mule a parting pat. "Bye Hubble." She backs up as Oshea mounts, and offers him a wave. "You will. Bye, Oshea."
The girl rubs her fingers together, enjoying the way the dirt from the mule's hair gathers into little balls. She watches them off, and calls before they're too far, "By the way, your hat is funny looking!"
