CeruleanStars
‧₊˚✩彡 Antiquated Storyteller ‧₊˚✩彡
Howi was no stranger to the west. He actually preferred it out there compared to the big city; it reminded him a bit of home, back when he was a young kid and barely able to comprehend the world outside of his small community. Nowadays, he sometimes questions if he can even call that place "home" considering how long he's been away from it now. He'd been living hundreds of miles away from it for so much of his life, following in his...parents' life because, well, they knew how business worked. He was lucky enough to remain in constant contact with his older sibling and some others from his community, much of them also nomads due to some tragic events that have happened since his family left the area, but he was lucky enough to find a community once he left the bigger cities.
The bigger cities were great for business, sure, but with the speed of infrastructure around him, something never sat right with him. There wasn't a time or place for that when business took priority though, and so, that's what he did. His parents were grateful enough to provide him with anything he needed to be a successful tailor wherever they went; they had connections in every city they lived in regardless of how long the family stayed. Howi was a name known by trade as he grew older. Need a suit repaired? Howi. Need accents adorned on your dress? Howi. Need intricate beading on a wedding dress? Howi. Many were opposed to receiving work from him initially and it took a lot of effort from his family to encourage some to actually have him attempt to repair their clothing, but once they saw how incredible his work was and how quickly he was able to produce results, it didn't take long for people to arrive to the family shop from word-of-mouth.
As he grew older and his connection to his home community and sibling grew stronger, he knew he had to make a move out of the city. This isn't where he belonged and, based on his experience moving city to city, he knew he'd be able to find business wherever he went, even if it was outside a major trade town or anything similar. While cities were cropping up like flies on spoiled meat, he wanted something much more rustic, something that could at least give him the semblance of what he longed for; privacy.
It was hard finding ads for anything out in the middle of nowhere, he had even convinced his parents to help him look for empty buildings or shops that'd been run out of business for any chance of opening his own tailor shop. It took a lot of effort, a lot of hiding his longer hair under business hats, changing his clothes adorned with colors to bland black-and-white suits, and long conversations hiding the small accent he had from his native language, but eventually he found a place. Some shop that was ten years run down out in the dusty west, a town inhabited by drunkards, cowboys, and traveling folk passing through to their next destination. Surely with the travelers coming through, there'd be enough business there to sustain him, especially with all the people moving westward to steal land away from those who already lived there. Thankfully, he got the place at quite a good steal (not that he needed to save money, as his parents had bought it for him as an early birthday present).
Thus began his adventure out to the transit town. From the city he left, it took him about a week to get there with his horse and small wagon filled with his own crafting materials as well as things his parents had bought for him before he left. It felt good to look on the horizon and see a whole lot of nothing; only he and mother nature occupying the space between the earth and sky. It was so blissful. It brought a smile to his face.
Trade was few and far between on his path, but he managed to befriend some plains folks who gave him beadwork, colored stones, and similar objects of fancy for shells, metals, and other small things he didn't need. Howi was excited to use the traded materials in his own personal projects he did on the side when business was on the slower side (which was not too often, but it was something to do and display to reach a wider audience, so his parents had told him).
When he finally arrived, he observed the town as best he could on his way to the address he had been given. Wooden structures, dusty porches, barely a human in sight aside from the drunkard passed out in the small space between the bar and the next business over. It wasn't as...bustling as he was expecting, but he did want something small and out of the city, so he really had no room to complain. This is what he wanted and he would graciously make due with that. As he arrived to the address, he pulled up to an abandoned business front that didn't seem to have been taken care of in a while. The porch was filled with piles of dirt from the dust blowing around, the door had seen better days, and the windows had a thin layer of caked dust on them.
Howi hopped off his horse and, with key in hand, opened the door to the new establishment that he was to soon, call his own. Inside, it seemed to be a lot neater than the exterior, but there was still cleaning that needed to be done. He was warned of how easily storefronts dirtied out here in the middle of nowhere, but that was fine with him; he would just put in twice the effort into cleaning his shop. The upstairs wasn't so bad either for living. It was definitely large enough for him to have a sleeping area and cooking area, which was nice. He was excited to cook his first meal with proper ingredients instead of the on-the-road rations he'd prepared for the long journey. As he came back downstairs, he set the key on one of the dusty countertops on the main floor, then headed back outside to start unloading his cart and giving his horse a break. He didn't see a stable anywhere on his way in, but it was probably just as likely that he missed it on the way in.
He gave his reliable steed a scratch on the nose, then began to release her from the binds of the wagon. With one side releasing the small, wooden structure, he set the brakes of the wagon on the same side before moving around to the other. Before he could even make it to the other side though, his horse jumped and rose on her hind legs with a desperate neigh that echoed through the streets and businesses. The sudden startle made Howi run to the other side in hopes of calming her down from whatever seemed to spook her, but before he could make it, she was off galloping away with his wagon in toe. One of the wheels from the rogue cart knocked him to the ground before he could even so much as think to grab on and, soon, the contents of his wagon started splitting across the street as the wagon pitched and yawed back and forth, at the mercy of the spooked horse now.
What a way to enter the town. Howi pushed himself up from the ground and dusted off his clothes once standing, watching his horse run this way and that before turning a corner out of his sight. He looked over everything that had been thrown in the street; fabrics, beads, some spools of threads, all items of his trade. While they were important to him, his horse was a living being. Items can be replaced, companions cannot. With a sigh, he started running in the direction his horse disappeared to.
The bigger cities were great for business, sure, but with the speed of infrastructure around him, something never sat right with him. There wasn't a time or place for that when business took priority though, and so, that's what he did. His parents were grateful enough to provide him with anything he needed to be a successful tailor wherever they went; they had connections in every city they lived in regardless of how long the family stayed. Howi was a name known by trade as he grew older. Need a suit repaired? Howi. Need accents adorned on your dress? Howi. Need intricate beading on a wedding dress? Howi. Many were opposed to receiving work from him initially and it took a lot of effort from his family to encourage some to actually have him attempt to repair their clothing, but once they saw how incredible his work was and how quickly he was able to produce results, it didn't take long for people to arrive to the family shop from word-of-mouth.
As he grew older and his connection to his home community and sibling grew stronger, he knew he had to make a move out of the city. This isn't where he belonged and, based on his experience moving city to city, he knew he'd be able to find business wherever he went, even if it was outside a major trade town or anything similar. While cities were cropping up like flies on spoiled meat, he wanted something much more rustic, something that could at least give him the semblance of what he longed for; privacy.
It was hard finding ads for anything out in the middle of nowhere, he had even convinced his parents to help him look for empty buildings or shops that'd been run out of business for any chance of opening his own tailor shop. It took a lot of effort, a lot of hiding his longer hair under business hats, changing his clothes adorned with colors to bland black-and-white suits, and long conversations hiding the small accent he had from his native language, but eventually he found a place. Some shop that was ten years run down out in the dusty west, a town inhabited by drunkards, cowboys, and traveling folk passing through to their next destination. Surely with the travelers coming through, there'd be enough business there to sustain him, especially with all the people moving westward to steal land away from those who already lived there. Thankfully, he got the place at quite a good steal (not that he needed to save money, as his parents had bought it for him as an early birthday present).
Thus began his adventure out to the transit town. From the city he left, it took him about a week to get there with his horse and small wagon filled with his own crafting materials as well as things his parents had bought for him before he left. It felt good to look on the horizon and see a whole lot of nothing; only he and mother nature occupying the space between the earth and sky. It was so blissful. It brought a smile to his face.
Trade was few and far between on his path, but he managed to befriend some plains folks who gave him beadwork, colored stones, and similar objects of fancy for shells, metals, and other small things he didn't need. Howi was excited to use the traded materials in his own personal projects he did on the side when business was on the slower side (which was not too often, but it was something to do and display to reach a wider audience, so his parents had told him).
When he finally arrived, he observed the town as best he could on his way to the address he had been given. Wooden structures, dusty porches, barely a human in sight aside from the drunkard passed out in the small space between the bar and the next business over. It wasn't as...bustling as he was expecting, but he did want something small and out of the city, so he really had no room to complain. This is what he wanted and he would graciously make due with that. As he arrived to the address, he pulled up to an abandoned business front that didn't seem to have been taken care of in a while. The porch was filled with piles of dirt from the dust blowing around, the door had seen better days, and the windows had a thin layer of caked dust on them.
Howi hopped off his horse and, with key in hand, opened the door to the new establishment that he was to soon, call his own. Inside, it seemed to be a lot neater than the exterior, but there was still cleaning that needed to be done. He was warned of how easily storefronts dirtied out here in the middle of nowhere, but that was fine with him; he would just put in twice the effort into cleaning his shop. The upstairs wasn't so bad either for living. It was definitely large enough for him to have a sleeping area and cooking area, which was nice. He was excited to cook his first meal with proper ingredients instead of the on-the-road rations he'd prepared for the long journey. As he came back downstairs, he set the key on one of the dusty countertops on the main floor, then headed back outside to start unloading his cart and giving his horse a break. He didn't see a stable anywhere on his way in, but it was probably just as likely that he missed it on the way in.
He gave his reliable steed a scratch on the nose, then began to release her from the binds of the wagon. With one side releasing the small, wooden structure, he set the brakes of the wagon on the same side before moving around to the other. Before he could even make it to the other side though, his horse jumped and rose on her hind legs with a desperate neigh that echoed through the streets and businesses. The sudden startle made Howi run to the other side in hopes of calming her down from whatever seemed to spook her, but before he could make it, she was off galloping away with his wagon in toe. One of the wheels from the rogue cart knocked him to the ground before he could even so much as think to grab on and, soon, the contents of his wagon started splitting across the street as the wagon pitched and yawed back and forth, at the mercy of the spooked horse now.
What a way to enter the town. Howi pushed himself up from the ground and dusted off his clothes once standing, watching his horse run this way and that before turning a corner out of his sight. He looked over everything that had been thrown in the street; fabrics, beads, some spools of threads, all items of his trade. While they were important to him, his horse was a living being. Items can be replaced, companions cannot. With a sigh, he started running in the direction his horse disappeared to.
