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Description

Stitched with Love

After a long trek through the forest, jumping bramble bushes and ducking under low tree branches, you finally arrive. A small, adorable workshop looms over you as you admire the craftsmanship of the exterior. Each piece of wood was carefully picked and shaped to fit the structure, making it a labor of love. You peer up at the sign hanging on the hinges to the side of the door; “Welcome to Kindler Knitting! Home of the finest quilts in the world!”.

You smile brightly. You’ve been waiting for years to come to this place. As soon as you were old enough you hopped on a plane and flew all the way up here, and trekked ten miles through the wilderness to get here. You take a deep breath as you open the front door.

A bell chimes above as you enter the shop. Quilts of all shapes and sizes drape the shelves, their colors rich and vibrant. Some even drape neatly from the ceiling beams, as it seems the shelves are so full they may break from weight! An ancient platinum chandelier hangs from the center beam to illuminate the shop. A small wooden desk sits near the back right, with a little old man sitting behind it. He seemed like a content fellow, watching the customers browse his store with watchful, careful eyes. When he spots you he smiles and waves.

Welcome, welcome! Please feel free to browse our wonderful selection! You may touch, all we ask is no food and drinks, and please be gentle with them.

You nod and return the smile and wave.

Of course, thanks so much!

You walk around the shop, admiring everything from the fabrics to even the smallest cross stitch that seems to complete every piece so wonderfully. Your eyes wander over to a small, pastel quilt in the back left. You trot over and gently lift it in your hands. There are adorable little stars and buttons knitted in an abstract pattern. You giggle at the cute design.

That one is one of my favorites. It’s one of the oldest ones in the shop.

You turn to see the old man still in his chair, speaking to you. His eyes seem lit up, as if he’s delighted that someone had finally noticed this one, little quilt. You smile.

It’s precious. It seems like this one was a true labor of love, even though at first glance the stitching looks abstract and out of line. But if you look closer, you can tell that it was meticulously crafted to look like this. Whoever made it must be very skilled.

The old man, taken aback from your statement, nods. His eyes look a little watery.

You couldn’t be more correct.

You giggle lightly. Suddenly, something odd catches your eye. A small animal limps through a dog door carved into the larger door behind the office, which seems to lead to the back-storage room. You barely saw the little one, and you become extremely concerned.

Sir, I think your pet is wounded. Badly.

He turns to the door. He sighs, and slowly stands. You can hear his knees and back crack as he stands. He hobbles slowly to the back room.

You look down at the quilt you’re holding and place it back where it was carefully. You cautiously begin to sneak to the back room. You can’t just watch a poor, wounded animal walk off unhealed. You need to know if it’s okay. You open the creaky door.

You peak inside to see the shelves stacked with various, colorful fabrics. Plastic bins on the floor are filled with needles, buttons of all kinds, as well as numerous types of threads. A desk sits near the door you entered with a sewing machine on it, as well as scattered buttons and threads. Beside the desk is a fluffy pet bed, which appears to be hand-sewn. It looks a lot like the quilt you picked up earlier. There is also a large sewing needle pinned in it.

You see the old man hunched over, his back to you. He appears to be whispering to his pet, which you believe is in front of him.

Little rascal…what was it this time? Bramble? A branch that fell?

You clear your throat to make him aware of your presence. He turns urgently, looking relieved to see it is only you.

Ah, it’s you young one.

He looks down at his pet, then turns back to you.

Close the door. You can join us.

You shut the door and make your way around to see the animal. You are greatly surprised to see a plushul pet there. It appears the old man is patching up a tear in its back leg.

I’ve never seen a plushul before. I thought they were myths.

The old man chuckles, causing him to cough. After the fit, he smiles at her.

So did I until the day she appeared.

He pauses before continuing, still sewing the leg up.

About twelve years ago, my wife was diagnosed with cancer. Stage four. It was too late to seek treatment for her, so we tried our best to happily enjoy our last days together here, in our little shop. This shop meant everything to her. I promised her that even after she was gone, I would continue to run the shop myself. Well, two years later, she had passed…I closed the shop for a period of time to recover. I loved her so much…

He goes silent for a moment and stops sewing. The plushul look up at him and whimpers. He looks down at the little one and smiles slightly. He begins to sew again and tell his tale.

When I re-opened the shop, I found it difficult to keep up on my own. My fingers were growing too numb and I by the time I made one quilt, five more were sold. Then, one day, there was a knock on the door before opening. I went to greet the stranger to explain we wouldn’t be opening for at least two more hours when I was surprisingly greeted by this little one.

He points down to the plushul, who yips happily. He finishes patching the leg up. Once the plushul is patched she runs to her bed and grabs the large needle in her mouth. Using the thread already tied to the end of the needle, she begins to sew a nearby, almost-finished quilt. You watch in amazement as the little one crafts.

So you were gifted with this little one to help you keep your promise…to keep the shop going…

The old man nods.

That’s right. Lyra has been helping me ever since. Isn’t that right girl?

Lyra barks happily, but it’s muffled by the needle in her mouth. You laugh and look back to the old man, who now wears a serious expression. You seem confused but let him speak.

Listen, young one. I’m afraid my time in this world is coming to an end soon…

You listen, a sad expression crossing your face.

My wife and I never had any children, and we don’t have family left…it’s just myself, and Lyra. I need someone to continue our legacy. I need a young pupil to run the shop. And I would like you to be that young pupil.

You seem shocked and surprised.

W-why me?

His eyes sparkle as he speaks.

Because when you told me what you saw in that quilt in the front, it showed me how much you truly care about each and every aspect that goes into making these quilts. I want someone like that to run this shop. And someone like that, to keep watch after Lyra when I’m gone.

You look down at the little one sewing the quilt, then back up at the old man. You ponder the idea for a moment before nodding.

It would be an honor.

He smiles.

Wonderful. I’ll keep in touch. Here, sweetie, write you address down. I’ll write to you and keep you updated about the shop.

You pull out a piece of paper and a pen from your bag, write your address down, and hand it to the old man. He nods and places it in his pocket. You get up to leave. You open the door, but stop as the old man speaks to you.

That quilt you liked…why don’t you take that with you? Consider it a gift, stitched with love.

You turn back to him. You smile and nod.

Thank you.

You leave the back room and shut the door. You go over, take the quilt gently, fold it up, and pack it in your bag. You leave the store and make your way back through the woods, to the airport, and finally, home.

In the following months, you receive updates from the old man, filled with stories, photos, even swatches of fabric that he asks for your opinion on.

However, one day the letters stopped. About a week later you receive a phone call. The old man had passed, and you feel your heart drop. You’ve grown close to the fellow. The man on the phone tells you that in his will, he left his belongings to you. You thank him and hang up. Without even thinking, you begin to pack up everything you own, which isn’t much. You schedule a flight for the next day.

Once you land you quickly gran your bags and head off down the same trail you trekked all those days ago. When you arrive, you see the little plushul sitting on the front entry mat. You smile down at her, and she smiles back at you.

You ready to keep the promise?

She yips and jumps to her paws. She moves the placemat to reveal a key to the place. You bend down and take it. You open the door. The plushul leaps in and runs to the back, ready to sew once again.

A new chapter of your life has just begun.

Name: Lyra

Age: Roughly ten years old

Gender identity: Female

Likes: Exploring, rain, sewing, collecting buttons

Dislikes: Fire, running out of a certain kind of thread, losing buttons in the floor cracks, angry people, sadness

Personality: Lyra is an optimistic pup with a knack for sewing! She takes pride in all her creations, whether it be the quilts she makes for the shop, teddy bears that she makes for children, or even patching her owners clothing. Lyra tries her best to always be cheerful, even when things look grim. She’s super helpful and ready to keep Kindler’s Quilts open for a long time!

If you guys are interested in joining this DTA, here's the thumb! (Hosted by Ambunny );

And here's the link to the group as well!!;
plushuls.deviantart.com/

Description

Stitched with Love

After a long trek through the forest, jumping bramble bushes and ducking under low tree branches, you finally arrive. A small, adorable workshop looms over you as you admire the craftsmanship of the exterior. Each piece of wood was carefully picked and shaped to fit the structure, making it a labor of love. You peer up at the sign hanging on the hinges to the side of the door; “Welcome to Kindler Knitting! Home of the finest quilts in the world!”.

You smile brightly. You’ve been waiting for years to come to this place. As soon as you were old enough you hopped on a plane and flew all the way up here, and trekked ten miles through the wilderness to get here. You take a deep breath as you open the front door.

A bell chimes above as you enter the shop. Quilts of all shapes and sizes drape the shelves, their colors rich and vibrant. Some even drape neatly from the ceiling beams, as it seems the shelves are so full they may break from weight! An ancient platinum chandelier hangs from the center beam to illuminate the shop. A small wooden desk sits near the back right, with a little old man sitting behind it. He seemed like a content fellow, watching the customers browse his store with watchful, careful eyes. When he spots you he smiles and waves.

Welcome, welcome! Please feel free to browse our wonderful selection! You may touch, all we ask is no food and drinks, and please be gentle with them.

You nod and return the smile and wave.

Of course, thanks so much!

You walk around the shop, admiring everything from the fabrics to even the smallest cross stitch that seems to complete every piece so wonderfully. Your eyes wander over to a small, pastel quilt in the back left. You trot over and gently lift it in your hands. There are adorable little stars and buttons knitted in an abstract pattern. You giggle at the cute design.

That one is one of my favorites. It’s one of the oldest ones in the shop.

You turn to see the old man still in his chair, speaking to you. His eyes seem lit up, as if he’s delighted that someone had finally noticed this one, little quilt. You smile.

It’s precious. It seems like this one was a true labor of love, even though at first glance the stitching looks abstract and out of line. But if you look closer, you can tell that it was meticulously crafted to look like this. Whoever made it must be very skilled.

The old man, taken aback from your statement, nods. His eyes look a little watery.

You couldn’t be more correct.

You giggle lightly. Suddenly, something odd catches your eye. A small animal limps through a dog door carved into the larger door behind the office, which seems to lead to the back-storage room. You barely saw the little one, and you become extremely concerned.

Sir, I think your pet is wounded. Badly.

He turns to the door. He sighs, and slowly stands. You can hear his knees and back crack as he stands. He hobbles slowly to the back room.

You look down at the quilt you’re holding and place it back where it was carefully. You cautiously begin to sneak to the back room. You can’t just watch a poor, wounded animal walk off unhealed. You need to know if it’s okay. You open the creaky door.

You peak inside to see the shelves stacked with various, colorful fabrics. Plastic bins on the floor are filled with needles, buttons of all kinds, as well as numerous types of threads. A desk sits near the door you entered with a sewing machine on it, as well as scattered buttons and threads. Beside the desk is a fluffy pet bed, which appears to be hand-sewn. It looks a lot like the quilt you picked up earlier. There is also a large sewing needle pinned in it.

You see the old man hunched over, his back to you. He appears to be whispering to his pet, which you believe is in front of him.

Little rascal…what was it this time? Bramble? A branch that fell?

You clear your throat to make him aware of your presence. He turns urgently, looking relieved to see it is only you.

Ah, it’s you young one.

He looks down at his pet, then turns back to you.

Close the door. You can join us.

You shut the door and make your way around to see the animal. You are greatly surprised to see a plushul pet there. It appears the old man is patching up a tear in its back leg.

I’ve never seen a plushul before. I thought they were myths.

The old man chuckles, causing him to cough. After the fit, he smiles at her.

So did I until the day she appeared.

He pauses before continuing, still sewing the leg up.

About twelve years ago, my wife was diagnosed with cancer. Stage four. It was too late to seek treatment for her, so we tried our best to happily enjoy our last days together here, in our little shop. This shop meant everything to her. I promised her that even after she was gone, I would continue to run the shop myself. Well, two years later, she had passed…I closed the shop for a period of time to recover. I loved her so much…

He goes silent for a moment and stops sewing. The plushul look up at him and whimpers. He looks down at the little one and smiles slightly. He begins to sew again and tell his tale.

When I re-opened the shop, I found it difficult to keep up on my own. My fingers were growing too numb and I by the time I made one quilt, five more were sold. Then, one day, there was a knock on the door before opening. I went to greet the stranger to explain we wouldn’t be opening for at least two more hours when I was surprisingly greeted by this little one.

He points down to the plushul, who yips happily. He finishes patching the leg up. Once the plushul is patched she runs to her bed and grabs the large needle in her mouth. Using the thread already tied to the end of the needle, she begins to sew a nearby, almost-finished quilt. You watch in amazement as the little one crafts.

So you were gifted with this little one to help you keep your promise…to keep the shop going…

The old man nods.

That’s right. Lyra has been helping me ever since. Isn’t that right girl?

Lyra barks happily, but it’s muffled by the needle in her mouth. You laugh and look back to the old man, who now wears a serious expression. You seem confused but let him speak.

Listen, young one. I’m afraid my time in this world is coming to an end soon…

You listen, a sad expression crossing your face.

My wife and I never had any children, and we don’t have family left…it’s just myself, and Lyra. I need someone to continue our legacy. I need a young pupil to run the shop. And I would like you to be that young pupil.

You seem shocked and surprised.

W-why me?

His eyes sparkle as he speaks.

Because when you told me what you saw in that quilt in the front, it showed me how much you truly care about each and every aspect that goes into making these quilts. I want someone like that to run this shop. And someone like that, to keep watch after Lyra when I’m gone.

You look down at the little one sewing the quilt, then back up at the old man. You ponder the idea for a moment before nodding.

It would be an honor.

He smiles.

Wonderful. I’ll keep in touch. Here, sweetie, write you address down. I’ll write to you and keep you updated about the shop.

You pull out a piece of paper and a pen from your bag, write your address down, and hand it to the old man. He nods and places it in his pocket. You get up to leave. You open the door, but stop as the old man speaks to you.

That quilt you liked…why don’t you take that with you? Consider it a gift, stitched with love.

You turn back to him. You smile and nod.

Thank you.

You leave the back room and shut the door. You go over, take the quilt gently, fold it up, and pack it in your bag. You leave the store and make your way back through the woods, to the airport, and finally, home.

In the following months, you receive updates from the old man, filled with stories, photos, even swatches of fabric that he asks for your opinion on.

However, one day the letters stopped. About a week later you receive a phone call. The old man had passed, and you feel your heart drop. You’ve grown close to the fellow. The man on the phone tells you that in his will, he left his belongings to you. You thank him and hang up. Without even thinking, you begin to pack up everything you own, which isn’t much. You schedule a flight for the next day.

Once you land you quickly gran your bags and head off down the same trail you trekked all those days ago. When you arrive, you see the little plushul sitting on the front entry mat. You smile down at her, and she smiles back at you.

You ready to keep the promise?

She yips and jumps to her paws. She moves the placemat to reveal a key to the place. You bend down and take it. You open the door. The plushul leaps in and runs to the back, ready to sew once again.

A new chapter of your life has just begun.

Name: Lyra

Age: Roughly ten years old

Gender identity: Female

Likes: Exploring, rain, sewing, collecting buttons

Dislikes: Fire, running out of a certain kind of thread, losing buttons in the floor cracks, angry people, sadness

Personality: Lyra is an optimistic pup with a knack for sewing! She takes pride in all her creations, whether it be the quilts she makes for the shop, teddy bears that she makes for children, or even patching her owners clothing. Lyra tries her best to always be cheerful, even when things look grim. She’s super helpful and ready to keep Kindler’s Quilts open for a long time!

If you guys are interested in joining this DTA, here's the thumb! (Hosted by Ambunny );

And here's the link to the group as well!!;
plushuls.deviantart.com/