There are markets that appear only when the air turns cold and the lamps burn low.
It was in one such place—somewhere between medicine and myth—that this satchel was acquired. Among glass vials, ink-stained ledgers, and the quiet presence of masked physicians, it rested… marked with the unmistakable silhouette of the plague doctor.
Not decoration. Identification.
Carried by those who understood that preparation was everything, this satchel was meant to hold the essentials—tools, notes, remedies… or whatever one might need when stepping into uncertain hours.
Sturdy. Spacious. Unapologetically peculiar.
Pair it with the matching plague doctor socks, if you dare. After all, one should be properly equipped from head to toe.
Not for the ordinary journey.
But then again… you’ve never been one for ordinary.
