The boundary must set

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A storm visited the city at midnight, covering the whole city with a silver coating of snow and spine-chilling winds the next day. You crouched in your bed under the thick cover, head slightly dizzy from overdrinking last night. Looking out from the window as the snow fell heavily, you considered between leaving your warm room for a refilling of fabrics and threads, or just laying all day in the sweet and fluffy dent of the blankets.

Eventually, to your dismay, your stomach groaned loudly and clenched to the point you couldn't ignore it. Without a real choice, you had to get up and fill your belly with something.

Wrapping yourself with the thickest clothes you had, you wobbled down the stairs and squeezed yourself into the usual seat. The owner's wife Laura greeted you with a beaming slime, soon noticing your poor shivering figure and sparing you a bowl of hot soup and bread out of pity. You thanked her gratefully with sparkling eyes that made her chuckle, wasting no time shoving all the food into your empty stomach.

Sighing satisfyingly after having supper, you brought the cleared dishes to the kitchen and washed them up while making small talk with the chopping woman. You liked to chat with both the mother and the daughter, their energetic attitude and cheerful face always kept you smiling, and the owner was a kind man too.

Drying off your hands with a towel and bidding Laura goodbye, despite the bad weather, today there's still work to do, and you should grab some supply. After she forcefully thrust a bottle of hot water into your embrace, claiming that it should keep your trembling body warm, you stepped out of the house, immediately welcomed by the strong cold wind, and flying ice threatened to hurt your eyes.

Groaning lowly, you pulled the collar of your cloak incredibly high, trying to block the freezing air. The roads had been difficult to walk on recently, the hawkers beside them significantly reducing in number, no more kids playing around, and the pedestrians all looked like rushing in hell.

You decided to head to the nearest cloth shop that you became a frequent guest for replenishment then went straight back, even though it was not actually that close by and the trip might cause you to slip a few times, leaving the mark of your ass on this city.

Your fingers clenched the water container, seeking some warmth from it as you struggled on the streets. Slowly passing some neighborhoods, the road to the store you aimed for had taken double the time as you watched your every step with extra focus.

Luckily you made it to the front door of the shop without actually falling off, and double lucky because it was open despite lacking of potential customers. You eagerly pulled the door open and swarmed inside for shelter from the storm.

The room was cramped with low cabins in the middle and high shelves surrounding, all filled with ingredients of tailoring, but it was cozy with the smells of fabric and leather, and the hotness from the heater.

Running your fingers through the cupboards and grabbing the usual colors and textures of fabrics and threads while wobbling along the way, you put all the things you took on the counter and smiled at the old lady behind it.

"I can see your business thriving, darling." The owner amusedly said as counting and writing down the marks.

"People here in the capital are richer, I must admit."

She chuckled and nodded softly, taking some kraft paper from below the counter. "That's 15 coppers in total."

"Okay, thanks." You nodded, pulling out your bag of coins from behind the heavy layers of clothes you wore.

You counted three more coins and put them on the surface. "Could you get me another piece of leather? The more tender one, please."

Her cloudy eyes lifted from the counter and darted to you, eyeing you up and down with a hum. Her lips curled up at the corners as she looked back down, folding and putting the goods on the paper.

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