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(90,000 fantasy)

        It was a cold march morning. The kind where river wind spun a thick frost, like dew, over all things. Catherine Tavers bundled herself against the gusts and turned onto Market Street. The winding cobblestone road was desolate this early. Even the merchants were at home in bed keeping warm until first light when the sun seared away the frost. It was in this gray hour that Catherine’s thoughts came easy and with vivid clarity. She reviewed the types of thread and needles for different projects, the proper proportions of fluid to keep her work pliable until she finished, and what pigments to use to add a natural color to a surface. These were things Catherine needed to know for her exam this morning, because today was the last day of her apprenticeship. All of these were skill passed down from her mother Angelina, a local tailor, but Catherine didn’t stitch dresses. She stitched corpses.

        “I’m ready.” Catherine assured herself, folding her arms over her chest to fight the wind. “I’ve studied. I can do this. I can… oh?”
/r/BetaReaders Thread