"I don't design clothes. I design dreams." - Ralph Lauren

Treetop Fashions had started as an idea within the mind of a young woman whose love for fashion far outweighed her knowledge or, indeed, her skill. At its heart it was meant to be a place where she could inspire others to try a new direction, to risk a change, to put them out of their comfort zone so as to bring a moment of understanding, a spark, back into their lives. Terri had made friends with some local fashion designers, a task that was pretty easy for the likable Beast, and using her connections, Treetop Fashions began in a grand manner. Opening night for the local Freehold, a way for Terri to finally establish herself in the community; it had been a roaring success.

And then the Dragon had came and tore a hole in the Freehold. That story had been heard many times before. Terri had been a slave and then once again freed. She’d returned to her home only to find Treetop Fashions gone and replaced by Spring. It had hurt but the Beast had gotten over it. Setting up shop in Quicksilver Gate under an agreement with Gianna, Terri had been able to sell some of her own designs but many from her friends in the local fashion world. Perhaps more importantly, it gave her the valued opportunity to do what she did best; meet and greet other of the community, and if possible, further develop her beliefs and be a help to anyone and everyone.

But like everything, doubt crept in. It was midnight in her workshop, the moon winking at her from above as it cast its pale gaze down through the window of the hollow. Scattered around was reams of untouched golden satin and torn linen that had been wasted. A pair of beige gloves were nearby but the dress she had been wanting to go with them just hadn’t come together. A matching pair of pants and blouse had been made quite nicely following Terri’s design but it hadn’t been easy, not as easy as she usually found the act of Hedgespinning. Raiment simply flowed together with her guidance and it was a beautiful experience. This...tears streamed down Terri’s face as she sobbed, her ego broken as the mundane nature of her dressmaking just collapsed under the weight of her efforts, efforts that had been meant for a local charity fashion show. Now, she had nothing worthwhile to show. The Beast felt broken, worthless, a joke parading as something more than she actually was.

The dream was no more. Snatching up her efforts, even those that had turned out okay, Terri rushed to the window of the treehouse and pushed it open so violently, it cracked as it swung against the wooden frame. As she threw her designs into the Hedge, watching as they fluttered down and became entangled in the briars, the moonlight caught her tears that stained her mascara and Terri threw a curse outwards from the hollow, a sound that rustled the leaves, filled with wounded pride and a challenge lost.

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