The young lass was apprenticed to a counselor of camp at eight years old and over the course of a week, learned the basic skills required for a burgeoning master of the knitterly arts. Alas, she was parted from her teacher too soon and, being eight years old, lost interest in the craft almost instantaneously.
She grew into womanhood, taking up the mantle of a lady warrior. She fought against the injustices of the world and anyone who believed that she was any less for her gender, sex, or film preference (she very much enjoys the fifth Star Trek film -- she is a unique one). Still, when she discovered a small square of her former knitwork at fifteen, she found herself once again drawn to the elusive craft.
Conjuring up images in one of the magical boxes that her parents called their livelihood, she scried a vision of a knitting master and watched with rapt attention as they gave example of the craft that had been taken from her so long ago. She purchased a pair of needles and a skein of wool from an old hermit manning the local shop of departments and set to work, replicating the techniques she had seen.
Four years has passed since that fateful day and Kaitlin has left her village behind in favor of the College of Magi, where she plans on taking up her parents' wizardry at some point in the future. While at University, she writes tales such as this, that she might appeal to those devils in publishing and one day see her name upon the leather spines of books in libraries.
She has grown ever more adept in her knitting skill, but is aware of her limitations. She may be a master of the basics, but knows that she has much to learn of those elusive skills employed by the masters. For all intents and purposes, she remains a journeywoman.
