“Why Jinx, wherever have you been?” Adala exclaimed as Jinx came bursting through the wooden door. She had been preparing hot pottage for lunch with chunks of potatoes and fresh baked bread. This was the dwarf’s favorite meal and Adala could not understand why it took him over an hour just to go to the thread shop when he knew it was waiting for him. “Aye Miss Adala, I gots somethin’ to show ya!” said Jinx as he hurried right past the food. Out of breathe, he reached into his basket and carefully unwrapped layers of brown paper to reveal the glittering spool of silver thread! Adala dropped the wooden spoon she had been stirring the pottage with. “Jinx! Where on earth did you get something so exquisite!” she cried. “It was Miss Grenada! She says she got it from one of her merchants at no extra cost so she saved it as a gift just for you!” Adala gently took the thread and ran it through her fingers, admiring how it glistened in the sunlight. “I have never made a garment from something so lovely. I’m almost afraid of what might come of it.” She said wrinkling her brow with concern. “Aye, Miss Adala but it does seem a bit of a shame to waste a gift so fine. Maybe you could make yourself something nice for a change.” Jinx was always trying to take care of Adala and convince her to take better care of herself, but the weaver of such exquisite fabrics typically preferred to clothe herself in simple garments made of plain linen. After thinking a moment Adala replied “Well, I certainly have no use for something so lavish but still… It does seem a shame to waste it. Perhaps I will think of something special to make soon. Shall we eat?” And with that she tucked the thread into her apron pocket and kissed Jinx on the forehead. Jinx smiled at the small, white haired girl and sat down at the simple oak table near the fireplace to eat. Adala sat next to him, sipping her tea and listening to him tell her all about his trip to town. She always enjoyed hearing Jinx talk about his visits with the townsfolk but at that moment her thoughts kept drifting to the little spool of silver thread resting in her pocket.
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