for a few years but something has always been bothering you.

That dark silk he never lets you use or even touch.

That dark silk tucked in with all the other fabrics on the fabric rack is making you wonder what exactly it is.

It's beautiful. Mysterious. Shimmers with a pearlescent hue under light. You could make excellent garments with such silk.

However, your mentor, Orson Gunderson, has told you, repeatedly, that it's off-limits and only he may have access to it. Whenever you try bringing it up to him, he either doesn't answer or tells you to stop bothering him. You've respected his decision, but you cannot but wonder exactly why.

You're currently working on your next garment on a table next to Orson's and he is working on a garment with the special dark silk he has forbidden you to use with intense, almost obsessive, focus. He is flatly ignoring an elderly lion on the opposite side of the table. The lion looks annoyed, leaning his paws onto the table Orson is working on, boring his eyes into him.

"Orson, I'm concerned about you. You haven't... been the same for the last few years. Talk to me. I'm your mentor. What's going on?"

No response. Orson is obsessively tailoring a part of the garment for the suit he plans to finish.

"It's me, Reginald. Do you remember me? Orson?"

Reginald reaches over for the garment that Orson is working on, hoping to try to move it out of the way to snap Orson out of his trance, but Orson quickly snatches the garment up and gives Reginald a slight scowl before going back to his usual, monotone expression with no emotion.

"I am fine, sir Reginald. Your concern has been acknowledged. Now, please, I need to get this garment ready for my client. He is expecting it anon."

Once Reginald has stepped back to give Orson space, Orson places his garment back onto the table and starts hemming it once more. Reginald sighs, shakes his head and walks out of the room where you and Orson are working in.

After a long silence, Orson finally speaks with a bored tone.

"Apprentice, are you done with your garment yet? Your client needs it anon. I expect it to be flawless and perfect, since you represent me."

A long pause.

"Who's your client again, by the way?"