Gwendolyn Taylor, as her name implied, was a seamstress both infamous for her obstinate attitude towards people she favoured and disliked, and famous for her skilled sowing that left almost no traces. Although her fame was only limited to the medium sized town, Cragsend, yet that didn't bother Gwendolyn as she was satisfied with the amount of attention she gathered and would have been uncomfortable with anything more than that.
Being the daughter of such a renown seamstress would have also meant Brynleigh would gain access to free patches and designs of clothing from her mother, alas, she did not. Gwendolyn believed in working hard to get the things you want, which meant Brynleigh was forced to learn by herself on how to stitch, tailor and sew her own clothes.
Although it wasn't as perfect as her mother's, Brynleigh's work was enough to hold on for a long time and functioned the same as any other garment. The only silver lining was that her mother would often present tailored clothes to her for birthdays and would randomly discard altered garments that her clients couldn't fit to Brynleigh.
Therefore, it was a struggle for Bryn to decide on the outfit to wear for the first day of the Tideswake festival. In the end though, she managed to piece together an outfit worthy of her.
For the main outerwear, a forest green mid-length layered dress was worn over a linen underdress and lightly belted at the waist. However, Bryn knew there would be a bitter chill of wind blowing from the north at dusk, and had considered a simple gray cloak but decided on a hemp-brown cloak trimmed with a row of small shell tokens to wear.
In consideration of her mother, Brynleigh wisely accepted to wearing the woven kelp bracelet that signified her emerging status of an adult, but also her youth.
Finally, as a last touch, she chose soft-soled clogs for quick movement since there was always someone needing help with boats or mending but was also practical for dancing.
What she wore can be said to represent what almost every young girl of her age at the town would also be wearing. This thought made Brynleigh sigh at the lack of different designs and clothing that could be worn, while also reminding her of how ordinary she was.
A dab of adventure would be welcomed any time, even if it meant an event that was something slightly different.
With enough pondering on how she could make her outfit more exciting, Bryn gave up and instead focused on how she would finally be allowed to wander alone after dusk since she was just a year away from being nineteen, and be able to court someone.
What if the baker's son, Gabriel would finally say 'Goo' tide, Bree, come watch the moon with me at the quay later?' After all, he had been so nervous and shy around her, always blundering his words and actions whenever he was around her. Or maybe it would be the confident and mature fisherman, Oliver, who would with much bravo offer to teach her a fisherman's knot.
For Bryn, courting someone only offered her a chance to stray from her normal routine, and not because she truly had a notion for dating them out of love and want for marriage. The one person she wouldn't mind marrying was Frederick Boatwright, Walter's close friend, her childhood friend and the son of a builder of boats.
Once again, she wouldn't marry Frederick out of love, but because of how unique and strange he was.
Frederick was an orphan found as a baby in a woven basket washed up at shore. All the villager had shared caring for him, but ultimately, Edgar Boatwright adopted him as his own son. Growing up as an orphan meant many would question how someone like him, with black hair, be the son of an ash blond-haired man.
Gradually, many stopped questioning and grew familiar and close with him, especially as Fred became a good-looking figure and was both intelligent and skillful with fishing and helping Edgar with making boats.
However, the only part that interested Brynleigh was that Fred was drawn to exploring, similar to her.
The two had met when Fred was twelve years old and Bryn was nine. Fred had been running and hiding away from a group of older boys who had been bullying him for being an orphan and had found himself unknowingly at a hidden part of the woods near a cliff. That also happened to be Bryn's secret hiding spot she enjoyed while neglecting her chores Gwendolyn would often send for her to do.
When Bryn was lazily chewing on a strip of dried beef up in her self-made treehouse hidden from below, a restrained and dry outburst of crying expelled near her hiding spot. Cautious of the sound either being made by an adult or an animal, Bryn leapt stealthily to a nearby thick branch that allowed her a better view of below.
Much to her surprise, what Bryn found was not the latter she thought the sound would belong to, but actually a boy no older than three years with astonishing raven hair and a few tears dripping down his equally dark eyes.
Upon a deeper inspection, she recognised the boy to be Frederick Boatwright, an uptight and calm looking child who would rarely react to any bullying and gossip and would instead laugh and smile at them in return.
So why would he be crying here and especially at her coveted hidden spot?