Six months later, I rented a tiny shop in Mist Bay.
This was a neutral port on the West Coast. The docks bustled with both humans and wolves, and every pack had to stow their flags the second they set foot in the harbor.
My shop sat close to the old shipyard. I mended all kinds of fabrics, and also sold hand-woven small baskets and hand-knit scarves.
The first month after opening, I only got four orders total.
After paying the rent, my bank account balance took a huge hit. I crunched the numbers late into the night, and finally deleted the clothes dryer I had been planning to buy from my shopping cart.
The second month, the owner of the workshop I used to work at sent a client my way.
The third month, the pier café ordered twenty table mats.
No one was there to bail me out, but I di
