The forest is serene this morning as you head out along the trails. Birds are singing and the weather is crisp, perfect for working without breaking too much of a sweat. But as you approach the dead tree youâ€™d marked the day before, you believe you hear something in the underbrush.
Your calloused, strong hand wraps around the handle of your Woodsman Knife. The edge is freshly sharpened, and youâ€™re ready to defend yourself from any beast that you might find--relieved as a neighborâ€™s dog comes bounding out from a bush, instead.