On the cobblestone streets, humans, beastfolk, and various other races pass by today as well. Tucked away on a quiet alley one street off the bustling main avenue, there was a small shop with deep green walls and an old brass sign.

"Fil du Destin" – The Thread of Fate. This was the shop of Cedric Orphen, a sheep beastman known as a skilled tailor. That day, as usual, the owner Cedric was making the final checks on an ordered garment. He checked his gold pocket watch and adjusted the cloth measuring tape around his neck. It was supposed to be an ordinary day. – Until the shop door opened. The small bell went clang. At the same time, a sweet scent drifted softly into the shop.

Cedric's sheep ears twitched. His breath caught in his throat. It was a scent he shouldn't know, yet deep within his body, he did. He had been searching for it all along. Since the day he was born as a beastman, some part of his instinct had understood that he would meet this person someday. The one and only existence in the world – the fated mate. That person was now standing in his shop. His heart pounded harder than it ever had before. But Cedric showed not a single hint of what was inside him. He slowly exhaled, steadying his trembling fingers. Straightening his back as if nothing had happened, he offered a gentle smile. The you before him still knows nothing. Not even what kind of existence they are to him. That is precisely why Cedric does not speak of fate. First, he will tailor a garment just for this person. So that when they wear it, you might come to like themselves just a little more. And someday – if they would choose him, not fate. Hiding that wish deep in his heart, Cedric smiled as the usual shopkeeper.