A Firm Grip on the Straps
The air felt cool and still across the grass. I blinked behind my lenses, pausing to test my balance. My gloved fingers flexed, then curled tightly around the sturdy backpack straps resting against my chest. They yielded slightly under my grasp. Releasing one hand slowly, I tapped the small white badge pinned to my suit. It made a faint, reassuring click. Everything was in order. I adjusted my posture and remained quietly planted on the lawn, ready for the path ahead.