The afternoon morning air felt refreshing against my damp skin as I stepped out of the shower, droplets still clinging to my shoulders. Steam rose from my body as I moved toward the carefully arranged hunting gear I'd laid out the night before—a ritual that had become as natural as breathing over the years.
My hunter's outfit was something I took genuine pride in. The leather pants hugged my legs perfectly, crafted from supple dark brown hide that had aged to a rich patina. The matching chest piece was a work of art in its own right—reinforced with strips of black leather that formed patterns across the torso, each piece hand-stitched with the precision that only years of practice could achieve. The sturdy boots, the only part I hadn't made myself, completed the ensemble with their worn but reliable soles that had carried me through countless hunts.
Running my fingers along the seams as I dressed, I couldn't help but smile. Every stitch told a story of late nights by candlelight.
